by Kyra Jacobs
“Yep. Five hundred bucks, spent two days too early.” Saying it out loud made her want to throw up. That kind of money would have given her a modest cushion while she searched for another job. Enough of a cushion she could have walked away from J.B.’s offer without looking back. “Darn it, why couldn’t they at least have given us some notice? And now Dr. Bedi suspects Tyler’s headaches are from him squinting. That means a trip to the eye doctor and possibly glasses. I’m bleeding money right now.”
“Then I guess it was just meant to be.”
“What was?”
Lauren grinned over the rim of her glass. “You, working as the personal assistant to hottie Scott Gillie.”
“Whatever. And he’s not that hot.” It was a lie, of course. The widening grin on her cousin’s face said she knew it, too.
“Sorry, Fee, but I already Googled him. He’s totally hot, and there’s absolutely no shame in admitting that. Wikipedia said he’s single, too.”
“Of course he’s single. If the guy was married, they wouldn’t need me to do his bidding.”
“Well, then, lucky for you he isn’t.”
Felicity groaned. Lauren had been prodding her more and more lately to get out and live a little. Them living in the same town meant an available babysitter for Tyler nearly any time she needed it. She had yet to take her cousin up on the offer, though it had less to do with her than it did with Tyler. He was only six, so sweet and impressionable. What if he needed her? What if he and her new beau didn’t click?
What if Tyler got too attached to the guy she was seeing and then he left?
Becoming single again had been hard enough on her the last time, but thankfully Tyler had been too little to understand what was going on. She couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be to lose someone from their lives today. It was one thing to grieve her own losses. As a mother, watching her son grieve would be downright unbearable.
Still, she couldn’t deny the way her pulse had stuttered into high gear when Scott greeted her at the front desk that morning. Usually, she could keep her emotions in check, especially with Tyler close by. But those green eyes and sandy stubble had thrown her for a loop, and that was with several feet between them. If she was his assistant, chances were they’d be closer than that at times, and what would her pulse do then?
“Oh yes, because if he’s single, that must mean he’s scouting for a spouse. It’s all we singles do.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m seriously considering calling J.B. and telling him I changed my mind.”
“But you won’t,” Lauren said, scrubbing at a sticky spot on her otherwise spotless table.
“Why not?”
“Because you want that house. It’s all you’ve talked about since moving into your wretched duplex—finding something bigger, with a real yard. A place you and Tyler can feel safe to call home. Something closer to us, to Tyler’s classmates. To the park.”
Wow, Lauren had her bags packed and out the door with that guilt trip. But was it wise to base her decision off emotions? To jump blindly into this job without knowing what she was getting into? What if Scott was a total tyrant? Or J.B. a complete liar? Then, where would she be?
“Besides, you need this, Fee. Not just for the money, but for you. Something to change things up a bit. How many times have you complained about how boring the factory was? Same stuff, different day? Now you’ve got an opportunity to do something completely different while making three times what you were. Hell, I’d be thrilled to have an opportunity like that come along.”
It was true—the assembly line could get pretty boring. Then again, she’d known stepping in the door what she was walking into. Whether the line was up and running or down for repairs, Felicity had grown to rely on the consistency of her job. With Scott, who knew what she’d be walking into? She’d take boring and consistent over the unknown any day of the week.
“Perfect,” she quipped. “You take the job, and I’ll stay here and watch your kids. It’d be a win-win situation.”
Lauren’s eyes narrowed. “You know what I think?”
“No, what?” said Felicity.
“You’re afraid of him.”
“I am not.”
“Are, too.”
“Laur, I worked the assembly line beside dozens of guys, both married and single, at Stinson. Working with men doesn’t scare me.”
“Yeah, but I’m guessing the ones at Stinson didn’t look anything like Mr. Soccer Star.”
Touché. “Regardless, I’m not afraid of working with him.”
“Then, sweetie, take the job. You’ve worked too long and hard to rebuild your life. Setbacks suck, they do, but everything happens for a reason. You can’t beat the money, and if that agent sought you out today—in a pediatrician’s office no less—then, trust me when I say it was meant to be.”
“I don’t know…”
“Just do it, and remember—no pain, no gain. And that it’s only temporary. In the meantime, I’ll ask around to see who else might be hiring. There’s got to be something out there for you.”
Only temporary. Lauren was right. She’d be a fool not to take the job. It’d help restock her savings account and give her some peace of mind, even if only for a while. And after the hellacious day she’d had, peace of mind sounded pretty darned good right about now. Felicity drained her drink, seeking some liquid courage.
Besides, J.B. would surely talk some sense into Scott and help ease his anger, wouldn’t he? Scott had seemed nice enough when he’d first walked into Dr. Bedi’s office—that was probably how he usually behaved. Once he got over the idea of having her around, maybe he’d go back to his easy-going, smiling self. Then all she’d have to do is keep a reasonable distance and resist the urge to see him as anything other than a work assignment.
How hard could it be?
…
“Promise me you’ll play nice.”
Scott sat on his grandmother’s couch the next morning, talking on his cell phone and trying to decide what was bothering him most—the snoring Pomeranian sofa-hog beside him, the dull throb in his knee, or the agent rambling in his ear. The ache in his knee was nothing new; he’d likely have to deal with it to some degree from here on out. That’s the way it’d been with his nose and wrist, anyway. Rain moving in? Expect an ache. The Pom was also nothing new, and, as Edna would boot her grandson out the door before her beloved canine, it did him no good to complain about the snoring. But now a lecture from J.B. on manners? Really?
“Pot calling the kettle, Mister Working Deals Behind My Back,” Scott answered. “And when am I ever not nice?”
“Yesterday, for starters. The glare you shot Felicity when she said ‘yes’ would have put most people six feet under.”
Yes, he’d been ticked off in Evan’s lobby, but not at her. It was J.B. who’d been wheeling and dealing behind his back. She’d just had the unfortunate privilege of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, thanks to his meddling agent, she would soon be at Edna’s following him around like a damn candy striper. Still wrong time, definitely wrong place.
“Well, clearly she’s not most people. And what do you even know about her, really? She could be a serial killer. If I die, it’s on your head.” J.B. chuckled on the other end of the line. “And for the record? That glare was for you.”
“You can glare at me all you want; it makes me no difference. But I won’t tolerate you being rude to my new part-time assistant.”
“If she’s your assistant, why does she have to come work with me?”
“Because you’re not in the big city anymore, and your grandmother doesn’t drive.”
Scott cursed himself for letting that detail slip. Hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
“Whether you want to admit it or not, Scott, you’re going to need help. In all honesty, I’d decided to offer her a job the minute she left that seat behind the reception desk. Figured she could work remotely and help clean up a few spreadsheets for me, so I can focus on my clien
ts. When she’s not assisting you, she’ll be doing work for me. So don’t go getting any wild ideas about trying to run her off.”
“Give me a little credit, will you.”
Scott hadn’t planned to run her off…just convince her not to come back. They were two entirely different approaches. Besides, having Edna here with him was more than enough estrogen for one household. She’d gone from elated that he was staying longer to scolding him for not picking up his dirty laundry in the same breath. The last thing he needed was more mothering…which was why he had to come up with some way to send Felicity packing. Nicely, per his agent.
And not just because the mere thought of her had his pulse racing again. She was a single mom, from what J.B. had told him on the car ride home yesterday, and out of work. Being his PA was a dead-end job. Sending her away would be doing them both a favor, wouldn’t it?
The image of her from yesterday came to mind yet again, that sexy, messy bun and legs that seemed to go on forever…
“I’m serious, Scott. If you do anything that leads to her quitting before the week is out, you’ll have to find yourself another agent.”
He forced the memory aside with a snort. “You’re bluffing.”
“Try me.”
Gone was the humor and patience from J.B.’s voice. Scott wasn’t buying it but knew better than to poke the bear.
“Fine, I’ll try not to run her off. But if she quits because this isn’t her thing, that’s not on me.”
“She won’t,” J.B. said. “Not with what I’m paying her.”
Scott disconnected and dropped his head onto the back of the couch. One bad tackle, and now his whole world was getting turned upside down. If Scott hadn’t gotten greedy, there’d be no mandatory down time, no reason for J.B. to think he needed a personal assistant, and no being stuck under his grandmother’s firm but loving thumb.
“Move it or lose it.”
Speak of the devil. He glanced up in time to see Edna spraying half a bottle of Pledge on the coffee table he’d been using as an ottoman. Lemon-scented cleaner filled his lungs and elicited a sneeze from Bruno…who added an entirely different spray to the air.
“Ew.” Scott shifted his leg aside and fanned the contaminants from his face. “Are you sure I can’t help, Grandma?”
She’d been a flurry of activity all morning—cleaning bathrooms, folding laundry, and vacuuming. Each time he’d offered his assistance, she shooed him away, insisting she’d cleaned the house for the past five years on her own and would clean it herself for another twenty.
“Does it look like I can’t handle this job myself?” she demanded.
“Of course not. But just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”
“Bah.” She waved the idea away with her dust rag. “You sound just like your grandfather, God rest his soul.”
Scott grinned. Quail Hollow had never met a kinder man than his grandfather, or one more tolerant. It was the only way he and Edna could have possibly stayed together all those years. The heart attack that stole him only seemed to make her that much feistier. Since then, everyone in town knew it was best to let Edna have her way, family included.
“You let Grandpa help you?”
“Are you kidding? That man didn’t know a dust mop from a sock puppet. When he got too insistent, I’d just send him off on some important errand.”
“Oh?”
She shrugged. “We were gonna run out of toilet paper and denture cream eventually.”
Scott laughed.
Wait! That was it—important errands.
Just because Scott wasn’t allowed to run Felicity off didn’t mean he couldn’t send her out on whatever mundane trip he could come up with. The more trips, the less time she’d be hovering. He nearly jumped up to hug his grandmother.
“So what’s the hurry to get everything spotless, anyway? You haven’t taken a break all morning.”
Edna moved to the next piece of wooden furniture and unleashed a fresh fog of cleaner. “Is it so wrong to want my house clean for our company?”
“Our company isn’t coming for a leisurely visit, Grandma. She’s coming here to work. So stop being such a try-hard. The place looks great.”
Edna gave him a swat that said she disagreed and migrated toward the front entryway. The sound of aerosol filled the space, intensifying the old farmhouse’s lemony aroma. If she kept up with the cleaner assault, any company that showed up would drop dead before they reached the living room.
And wouldn’t that just piss J.B. off to no end?
Ding dong.
In an instant, Bruno went from sawing logs to impersonating a hundred-pound pit bull. He pranced on the couch like a boxer before a fight, teeth bared and ears back. It would have been an intimidating view, had the rest of him not looked like a fuzzy, overinflated basketball.
Scott shifted away from the tiny beast, strands of slobber now dangling from its snapping jowls. “Guess our company’s a little early.”
“And you criticized me for hurrying.” Edna came to stand before the hall mirror and primped her cotton-ball bouffant. “Now, are you going to be a gentleman and let our company in, or not?”
Knowing it really wasn’t a question, Scott grabbed one crutch and hobbled his way to the door. Bruno followed, each vicious-sounding bark momentarily lifting him off the floor
“Shouldn’t you grab Bruno?”
His grandmother waved him off. “Oh, he’ll be fine.”
Sure he would, if you considered “fine” splattered all over the road. No way was the little monster going to stay inside.
As expected, the Pom squirmed his way out the door as soon as his furry little butt could fit. But instead of taking off at a dead run, he began dancing on his hind feet, pawing at a pair of shapely legs. Scott opened the door fully to find Felicity on the front porch, kneeling to stroke Bruno’s soft fur. She’d traded yesterday’s casual look for dark capris, a silky peach blouse, and strappy sandals that revealed pink-painted toes.
“Good morning, Scott.”
He wasn’t usually a big fan of pink, but on those toes it looked pretty amazing. And he always did have a thing for painted toes. In fact, he could think of several places those pink toes of hers would look amazing, strappy sandals need not apply.
Stop it. There will be no foot-fetish fantasies played out with Little Miss Cute Mom. She’s the assistant you don’t want, remember? It’d be like sleeping with the enemy.
“Good morning,” he said.
Felicity rose with a smile, the sight a sucker punch to his senses. She’d looked cute at the doctor’s office yesterday, but this outfit had bumped her into the sexy category. Add in that smile, and the woman was downright dangerous.
“Will you invite her in already?” Edna whispered from behind him.
“Oh, right. Come on in. Felicity, I’d like to introduce you to my grandmother, Edna Gillie. Grandma, this is Felicity Shaw.”
Felicity passed close by, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla teasing his senses. It was infinitely better than the lemon nightmare he’d been enduring. Unfortunately, it began to wake a hunger Scott hadn’t realized he had. It’d been nearly a year since he’d ended a very turbulent relationship, one that kept the Columbus media on their toes. And while Heather had satisfied his every itch, the emotional roller coaster had seriously messed with his head, both on and off the field.
Yet another reason to keep his distance from those lovely pink toes.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Gillie.”
His grandmother bypassed Felicity’s extended hand and reeled her in for a bone-crushing hug. “Please, call me Edna.”
With that, she hauled Felicity inside, talking a mile a minute as Bruno pranced alongside them. That left Scott standing on the doorstep. Alone.
Great. In order to send Felicity off on a day full of mindless errands, he needed to find a way to peel her away from his social butterfly of a grandmother. It could take hours. Days, even.
But wait—m
aybe Edna jumping in wasn’t such a bad thing. The more time Felicity spent with her, the less time she’d have to spend with him. Goodness knew his grandmother could keep a person occupied from sun up to sun down. Finally, her tenacity was being put to good use.
Thank you, Grandma.
Chapter Three
Felicity sat on Edna’s dated but comfy plaid couch, waiting for her hostess to return from the kitchen after she’d insisted on fetching them each a cup of tea. The sounds of a hushed argument drifted from the other room, leaving her feeling anxious and out of place. She’d tossed and turned half the night, questioning her sanity at taking a job she knew nothing about and which would have her spending most of her time with a complete stranger. Time and again, though, she’d come back to the same two arguments: it was only temporary and it’d get the yard for Tyler she so desperately wanted.
She had to make this work.
“Sugar or cream, dear?”
Felicity glanced up from the furry Pomeranian belly she’d been petting. Edna’s puffball of white hair was peeking around the corner, her matching eyebrows raised in question.
“A little of both, please.”
“Smart girl.”
Her hostess ducked away for a brief moment, then re-emerged with a cup and saucer. The delicate china rattled as she moved, age rendering her less fluid in transition. Drink delivered, she angled for the kitchen once more.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Mrs. Gillie?” Felicity asked as the smell of Earl Grey thankfully began to displace the room’s heavy citrus scent.
“No, no. You sit right there, I’ll join you in a moment.”
As if in cahoots with his owner, the ball of fluff on the couch beside her laid a paw on her near leg. Felicity glanced down to find his lips curling into what she would swear was a smile. Or a snarl. Maybe a little of both. Needless to say, she was relieved when Edna returned, her own cup and saucer in hand.
Edna, but no Scott. Interesting.
The woman nestled into a cream-colored armchair to Felicity’s left and took a sip of tea. With a nod of approval, she lowered her cup and smiled. “So, tell us a little about yourself.”