by Whitney G.
“This is your sixth interview for an EA position. I thought you wanted to work for yourself.”
“I do,” she said. “But I have to start somewhere. Somewhere that’s not where you are.”
“Hmmm.” I kissed her lips and slowly slid out of her, tossing the condom into the trash. “I could help you prepare for tomorrow if you like.”
“That’s what we were supposed to be doing.”
“You can spend the night here, then.”
“I tried that yesterday, and we ended up having sex in your laundry room, Preston.”
“What’s your point?”
She laughed and kissed me, motioning for me to pick up her dress. “I’ll come back later if I finish.”
“If?”
“Yes, if. I.e., if Preston doesn’t send me a bunch of filthy text messages to distract me from my work.”
“I won’t start sending them until four hours from now.”
“Thank you.”
I clasped her hand and walked her to the elevator, giving her one last kiss to remind her to come back. Then I checked on Violet one last time before taking a seat in my office.
Not wanting to face any work tonight, I picked up my brother’s letter, but I put it down. I pulled out the manila envelope of Violet’s documents instead and spread them across my desk.
I flipped through her passport and noticed she had four full pages of stamps. France, Britain, Thailand, Australia, Mexico, Japan, and multiple stamps from the Dominican Republic.
I didn’t know Weston traveled so much.
I read through her hospital records, saving her birthdate in my calendar. I flipped through a miniature photo book, ignoring the pain in my chest as I came face to face with Weston helping her onto a horse. Him carrying her on his shoulders. Him kissing a pretty brunette as Violet smiled in the background.
As I was opening my liquor cabinet, I heard the sound of doors opening and closing. The sound of things falling onto my floor.
Standing up, I headed to the hallway and froze. Violet stood crying in front of my second guest room with Bear in tow.
“Violet?” I bent down to her level. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find my mommy and daddy.” Tears fell down her face. “Can you help me?”
I pulled her close as she cried harder. “It’s okay, Violet. It’s okay.” I picked her up and carried her to my room.
Hitting the lights, I pulled back the covers and tucked her next to her teddy bear.
“I’m sorry, Violet,” I whispered, wiping the last of her tears away. “I’ll try my best to take care of you, okay?”
“I know because you live in my bear.” She gave me a soft smile.
“What do you mean by that, Violet?” I thought she would have stopped saying that strange phrase by now, but she still said it at least once a day. “Why do you think I live in your bear?”
“I can show you.” She sat up and grabbed Bear, flipping him over and unzipping his back. She pulled out a small blue booklet that read, Violet’s Family: People Who Love Me, and flipped it open.
On the first page, there was a beautiful picture of my mother and father standing in front of our old home.
“This is Grandma Rose.” She pointed at my mother and smiled. “I have a rose in my name, too.” She pointed to my father. “And this is Grandpa P. They’re in the clouds now.”
She flipped through a few more pages of my parents until she reached a picture of my brother and his fiancée. “This is my Mommy and Daddy. They’re in the clouds now, too.”
She flipped to the very last pages of the book where there were two pictures of me, images from my Mister New York covers. “This is my Uncle Preston—you. See? You live in my bear.” She looked at me. “Are you crying?”
“No.”
“Your eyes are watery.”
“They’re not watery, and I’m not crying.”
“You look like you’re crying.” She hugged me. “It’s okay, Uncle Preston. They’re in the clouds now.”
Twenty-Nine
Tara
“the bitter end”
“Aren’t you happy you didn’t quit your job, hon?” My mother smiled when I met her at the airport a couple of weeks later. “Tell me I was right all along.”
“What? You were dead wrong. I just told you I quit, and my last day is next Friday.”
“Well, you’ll regret it eventually, Tara. Nothing good in life ever comes to those who quit.”
I shook my head and signaled for the town car. The only thing I regretted was inviting her to New York for an entire weekend. Since Preston was flying Violet to Disney World for her birthday and Ava was starting yet another new job this weekend, I thought I would personally show her the one city she had yet to cross off her bucket-list.
I knew I should’ve waited another couple of months.
“Good afternoon, Miss Lauren.” Will stepped out of the car and opened the back door for us. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Lauren.”
My mother smiled and moved onto the backseat first. “Do you have an itinerary planned for us, Tara?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t start until tomorrow. I have some things being moved out of my office today, and I need to be at my condo for at least two hours.”
She stared at me for a few seconds. “Was your boss that bad, hon? Are you sure you’re not just imagining things?”
“She’s not just imagining things,” Will said, smiling at me through the rearview mirror. “Trust me.”
I mouthed “Thank you,” to him, and he winked at me.
“Well, I guess so,” my mother said, seeming to accept things finally.
I started to change the subject, to ask her if there was anything in particular she wanted to eat tonight, but my mother quickly reminded me that she didn’t accept shit when it came to quitting.
“Look at Bill Gates!” She faced me. “He never quit.”
“He dropped out of college.”
“Steve Jobs never quit.”
“He dropped out of college, too.”
“Well, Ellen DeGeneres—”
“She lasted one semester of college.”
“Well, those are only three examples.” She pulled out her phone. “Let me find some people for you to admire so you can rethink your decision.”
I looked out the window and held back a sigh.
By the time we made it to my condo, my mother had read me the biographies of over eighty “business people” who didn’t quit, and I didn’t have the energy to tell her that A) None of those people were currently alive; and B) Half of them were fictional characters from bestselling books.
The doorman smiled at us as he let us inside, and she finally put her game to rest. I checked my mailbox and noticed it was stuffed with beautiful, bright postcards from employees at Parker International.
* * *
Dear Miss Lauren,
Please don’t leave us with him.
Thanks.
* * *
Dear Miss Lauren,
Can I come with you? (Like, just me.) I don’t think my job is safe if you’re not around.
Thanks.
* * *
Dear Miss Lauren,
Your boss is more than willing to keep you onboard here.
At least, that’s what I’ve heard.
-Preston Parker
* * *
I laughed and read the rest of them, noticing that for every one card that was from an intern, there were five more from Preston. As touched as I was by the gesture, and as much as I enjoyed spending more time with him, I knew we were better off working separately.
I just hoped he felt the same way I did about keeping our personal lives entwined.
“Wow.” My mother twirled around the lobby. “How much does this place cost a month? Actually, no. Don’t tell me. I don’t even want to know.”
I laughed and hit the up button for the elevator. “It’s expensive, but my boss covers most of it.”
“Will he be co
vering it for a little while longer after you’re gone?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t asked.” I knew that even if he didn’t, I had more than enough in my bank account to cover things for quite a while.
As we stepped onto the car, my mother leaned forward and gave me a hug—catching me completely off guard. “Your father would be very proud of you if he could see you now, you know?”
“Even after I quit something?”
“Absolutely.” She smiled. “Your father was the biggest quitter I knew. Why do you think I pushed you so hard to be the opposite?”
I laughed and let go as the elevator stopped on my floor. When the doors glided open, I showed her to the spa room that was on the left, and when we walked to the doors that led to my front door, Preston moved away from the wall and smiled at me.
“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.” My mother playfully fanned herself. “Who is this?”
“I’m Preston Parker,” he said, extending his hand. “I apologize for all the things you’ve had to hear about me over the past two years, and it’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Lauren.”
“What?” My mother’s eyes widened as she shook his hand. “Tara, this is your boss?”
“The terrible boss that she hates.” He smiled, correcting her.
She stood utterly speechless, still shaking his hand, still staring at him.
I waited for her to let his hand go, but it started to feel like that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. “Mom?” I cleared my throat. “Mom.”
“Oh, sorry.” She finally let go, but she still stared at him.
Preston laughed and pulled me into a hug. “How did your mom get to New York?”
“By plane, of course.”
He raised his eyebrow. “She took a commercial flight?”
I nodded.
“Why?”
“Because that’s how us regular people get around.”
Laughing, he let me go. “You could’ve used one of my planes.”
“I still don’t think you need four.”
“That’s why I have five.” He smiled. “She’s more than welcome to take a private plane on her way back.”
“Am I allowed to use one when I start my new job?”
“Only if you’re flying somewhere to see me.” He looked as if he was tempted to push me against the wall and kiss me, but he thankfully restrained himself in front of my mother.
“Tara, this is your boss?” My mother repeated. “I thought you said you hated everything about him.”
“I do.” I looked at him. “I thought you were going to Disney World.”
“We were until a certain someone started crying because she wanted Tara to come,” he said. “No, excuse me. Bear wanted Tara to come. They’re waiting in the car with Simon.”
I smiled. “Well, I’d love to come, but can we leave another day? I’m waiting on some things to be delivered from the office, and my mom wants to see New York.”
“I’m open to going to Disney World,” my mother said. “Today. With him. Whenever.”
I held back a laugh, and Preston clasped my hand.
“I’ll ask Will to stand guard for the delivery of your things,” he said. “Do you need to grab anything from inside first?”
“I can’t believe you’re asking me if I want to pack before I go on a trip.”
“It’s a yes or no question, Tara.”
“No,” I said. Then in German, I added, “I remember my boss saying that he’ll buy me whatever I need when we get there. I wonder if that offer still stands.”
“You’re lucky your mother is standing here right now,” he responded, in perfect German. Then, in English, “Good. We can go now. Unless Mrs. Lauren needs to get something from your condo or get a tour of it first?”
“I can see the inside of her condo when we get back.” She started walking toward the elevator, and we laughed as we followed her.
When we stepped onto the car, he took a call on his phone, and my mother nudged me in my shoulder.
“I take back what I said about quitting,” she whispered. “With a boss that looks like that—especially one who is clearly into you, you should never, ever quit. Is it too late to ask to have your job back?”
Thirty
Preston
I stared at Tara as she slept next to Violet, as the plane taxied down the runway. She was holding Bear in one hand and a bag of Mickey Mouse lollipops in the other. Unlike me, she had no problems limiting Violet’s daily sweets, and I was beyond glad that she’d come along on the trip.
Her last day of work was this coming Friday, and although I wasn’t one hundred percent sold on her successor, I was officially sold on us. The moment after her farewell party ended, I was determined to ask her if the two of us could continue whatever the hell had been happening over the past several weeks.
I had no interest in dating anyone else, and I knew, without a doubt, that the feelings I had for Tara went deeper than sex.
“Is it too late for her to get her job back?” Her mother stepped into the cabin. “You can tell me, and I’ll find a way to get her to change her mind.”
“She made the right decision.” I looked over at Tara again. “It was time for her to go in a different direction.”
“You think she has chief attorney potential?”
“No,” I said, honestly. “I think she has CEO potential. Anything else would be a waste.”
She smiled and picked up a bowl of apples. “You know, she’s a pretty light sleeper, and she hates grand declarations.” Her mom looked at me as if she could read my mind. “Tell her how you feel now. I mean, I would, if I were you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I smiled. “We’re just friends, and she’s my former employee.”
“I’ve spent the past three days with you two, and this is the only time when you aren’t touching.” She gave me a knowing look and headed back to the rear suite. “You’re far more than friends.”
When the door shut, I contemplated waking her up and asking her to join me in the front suite, but my phone buzzed on the table. An email from George.
* * *
Subject: Tara Lauren’s Recommendation
Preston,
Please don’t tell me you gave Tara the recommendation for her next job.
George Tanner
Chief Attorney, Parker International
* * *
Subject: Re: Tara Lauren’s Recommendation
Of course, I did. I was more than happy to do so. I even wrote the latest recommendation letter myself.
Preston Parker,
CEO & Owner of Parker International
* * *
Subject: Re: Re: Tara Lauren’s Recommendation
Now is not a good time to joke with me, Preston. I'm serious. Dead ass, I’m-not-smiling serious.
George Tanner
Chief Attorney, Parker International
* * *
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Tara Lauren’s Recommendation
As am I. (You could’ve used quotes instead of those two hyphens, by the way.)
Preston Parker,
CEO & Owner of Parker International
* * *
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Tara Lauren’s Recommendation
So, you personally recommended her to be the interim general counsel? That’s nice. Very sweet. The only problem is the goddamn company she’ll be doing that with.
Please see attached.
George Tanner
Chief Attorney, Parker International
* * *
I opened the attachment and lost my shit.
What the fuck?
Thirty-One
Tara
“Cheers to the best executive assistant in Parker International history!” Cynthia raised a glass of champagne. “Tara Lauren!”
Everyone in the room cheered and knocked back their drinks, and I gave them my best smile. So far, there’d been farewell songs, a group poem called “Please
Don’t Leave Us, Tara,” and a dramatic dance of some kind called “No, Really. Please Don’t Leave Us, Tara.”
For some reason, Preston wasn’t here, and ever since we’d returned from Disney World, he’d been on edge. As if he was upset about something.
Probably because the Von Strums haven’t signed the contract yet.
“Thank you all so much for this party,” I said, standing on top of a chair. “It really means a lot to me. Although I have to leave, I’ll do my best to stop by for some Sweet Seasons Coffee to chat with you whenever I can.” I paused. “Well, some of you.”
Everyone laughed.
“Make sure that you give my successor, Taylor, all of the support he needs.”
“What’s his real name?” Cynthia asked.
“Taylor.”
Everyone in the room laughed, except Taylor and me, so I shrugged and stepped down.
I pulled out my phone and sent Preston an email.
* * *
Subject: My Farewell Party.
You’re missing it.
Tara Lauren
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
*Please forward all requests to his new assistant Taylor Milton via [email protected]
* * *
Subject: Re: My Farewell Party.
I’m aware.
Preston Parker
CEO & Owner of Parker International
* * *
Subject: Re: Re: My Farewell Party.
Is something wrong? You can tell me. (You’ve been off all week.)
Tara Lauren
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
*Please forward all requests to his new assistant Taylor Milton via [email protected]