by Magan Vernon
Fallon bit her lip, her shoulders shaking as if she was trying to hold back a laugh. “I’m not sure.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask him when he’s done with one of his important meetings,” I said, trying to move Mum along.
Even though we were literally at the front doors of the building, it still felt like it took eons to finally get outside and I could take in a deep breath of the stale summer air.
“Darling, you didn’t even give me a tour. Should we go back in or head to that charming little pub I saw right around the corner?”
I let go of her arm and slowly took a step back, shaking my head. “What are you really doing here, Mum? You know I can’t rightfully give you a tour. This is a big company. There are security clearances.”
She opened her mouth with an angry scowl on her face. “Grace Louise, I can’t believe you’re talking to your mum like this.”
“Mum…really.”
She stuttered out a breath before clearing her throat and put her hand on her chest. “I was just having tea with Grandfather and Grandmother when your grandfather happened to mention an heir clause in the late Mr. Murphy’s will.”
“What does that have to do with anything? Why would that make you show up here with baked goods?” I huffed, gripping tightly onto the little pink box.
She glanced at the empty pavement before stepping closer and lowering her voice. “What that means is that the will states each son has to be married to earn their stake in the company. If all three boys aren’t married within a year, their shares of Murphy’s Pub will go to the highest bidder on the board.”
I shook my head, this blast of information swimming in my brain. Why hadn’t Sean told me about this?
Was she telling the truth? And if so, what did this mean for the boys and the company?
“That sounds archaic and not like something that would go in a modern will,” I grumbled.
Mum nodded, a small quirk of her lips into a half-sneer, half grin. “But it is.”
“And what about it? If you’re saying I should marry Sean, you’re out of your mind as he’s one of my oldest friends. And if it’s about Jack, just don’t even go there. I am just doing this job as a favor to Sean and Granddad.”
How could she even think I would after everything she and Father went through?
Her lips turned upward into a sinister smile, like a cartoon villain. “I’m not saying marry him at all. But you do have your womanly charms, and if he happened to fall for you, that would keep him from marrying anyone else. Thus, leaving a share of the company open to Grandfather.”
My head throbbed with this new information. No way in hell I’d do any kind of crazy scheme Mum conjured up, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about it. If Granddad bought the company, it would secure me a job, and of course whatever inheritance Mum could get. Then maybe she’d finally get back on her feet and even head back to London.
But as the thought crossed my head, it quickly floated away. I would never do that to the brothers, no matter how much it could set up my family. And that was the twinge of guilt that had now buried itself deep in my chest.
“This is ridiculous. You do know that, right?” I narrowed my eyes.
Her shoulders slumped. “Do with it what you will, but know that this is a way to secure all of our futures. Your grandparents won’t be around forever. They have some money put away, but a stake in the company could really change all of our lives.”
I sucked in a deep breath. Her words rang true, no matter how malicious they were. I just couldn’t think like that, even if it was an enticing thought. I had to go back inside. I couldn’t think about this. Not now. Not ever.
“I need to get back to work, Mum. I’ll see you for tea on Sunday?”
She blinked rapidly before straightening her dress and nodding. “I’ll see you Sunday. Maybe even invite Jack, too. I’m sure Grandfather and Grandmother would love to see him.”
I shook my head, knowing there was no way I would ever bring Jack to anything with the family. Especially not after this little conversation Mum and I just had. Besides, it’s not like we were anything other than co-workers or old family friends.
And that’s all we’d ever be.
“I’ll be sure not to ask him.”
Chapter Six
Jack
For years, I wanted my da’s position as CEO, and now that Connor was taking over the responsibilities of CFO, things were much easier. During the call with some of the franchise investors in America, Connor was the one who had to prepare the points and would eventually write up something his assistant would send out.
I dreaded that moment in every single meeting, thinking how the hell I was going to take everything we just discussed in a two-hour phone call and somehow make everyone happy with a one-paragraph memo.
Luckily Fallon was pretty quick on her heels and had gotten everything sent out in a timely manner. No other assistant had worked like her. But Grace, I had a feeling, would be a close second.
I wasn’t lying when I said her CV was impressive. How a woman with her grades, internship, and school experience wasn’t working with some big publisher was beyond me. Whoever had interviewed her before me didn’t know what they were missing.
I never thought the little punk girl with glaring brown eyes would be the one who would make me shudder and beam all at the same time. She was maddening and had always been good at getting under my skin. Even as a little girl who would hide rocks in my shoes right before I went to leave the house. She and Sean would each put the blame on each other, but that sassy little smirk of hers always gave it away.
Just like it did now.
Like it should have the night of the gala.
She may have acted like she didn’t want this position in the company, and tried to glare, but when the words actually reached her lips there was that little hint of something more. But I could never tell if it was an impending doom sort of look, or a you’re-not-bad-for-an-arsehole kind of thing.
I was supposed to be finding a wife, not thinking about a girl from the past whom I wasn’t even sure I liked as anything more than a friend of the family.
Connor was right that we couldn’t talk about her like she was a piece of meat to fight over. She was just supposed to be an assistant. Not a love interest.
That’s what I had to keep telling myself and ignore the rush that rattled my body every time I saw that smile of hers.
“I don’t know how you did this shite for so long. There has to be an easier way.” Connor shook his head, going through the pages of scribbles on the desk.
“Hey, if you’ve got one, I’m all ears,” I said, putting my palms out.
He shook his head, looking up from his papers. “Maybe that new assistant of yours has an idea. Heard she was an assistant editor at some publishing house. They know how to tighten and cut what’s needed.”
I narrowed my eyes, unsure what kind he was trying to get at. “She was an assistant editor. Now she’s my assistant, and I don’t think editing romance novels works the same way as procedures in a company.”
He shrugged, picking up the papers and going toward the door. “Yeah, but it couldn’t hurt.”
Then he opened the door before I could respond.
Instead of the two women huddled over the computer, Fallon sat in the seat outside of my office.
It was past lunchtime, but surely Grace would have sent a note if she was leaving.
Or quitting.
My pulse quickened, my eyes widening as I stalked toward the door, looking at the empty chair then to Fallon. “Where is Grace?”
She blinked, looking up from the computer. “Uh, she was just walking her mom out. She brought some croissants which she pronounced all French-like.”
I listened to about half of Fallon’s rambling but focused on my still racing heartbeat.
“Sure she didn’t try to escape? Because that’s a pretty good excuse,” Connor said with a wink before he turned toward me.
“Already have the new girl running for the hills? And I thought she’d be able to handle you.” He laughed.
I knew she probably hadn’t already gone through the process of quitting, but what would I do if she left? Would that give me the green light to proceed with something more outside the office?
But then again, I did need an assistant. The turmoil played over and over in my head.
Relief finally washed over me when Grace’s heels clicked on the wooden floor as she crossed to the desk and dropped a bakery box on the corner as if it were just another piece of office furniture.
“Sorry. Just had to slip out for a minute. But I’m back now if you need me to do anything. Oh, and there are croissants. Mum brought them as a first-day-of-work thing. I know, weird, but she means well,” Grace said, her voice on the edge of frazzled.
“You can take lunch if you need to. Your mam coming to visit doesn’t count, so you can have the extra time.” I nodded, trying to ignore the new pang in my chest.
“It’s fine. I can work through it. I have a lot to catch up on. I’ll finish these forms now, so I won’t have to worry about it later,” she said quickly, going to her chair.
Connor opened the pink box on the desk, then closed it before smiling at his wife. “I need more than bread. I think we should head for a bite before I try to tackle my own work.”
Fallon tilted her head slightly, and he nodded in return before her mouth formed a perfect O, and she stood. “Yeah. I’ll be back soon, Grace, and we can go over the system again.”
Grace nodded at the blonde who now scurried around the desk, grasping onto Connor’s outstretched hand. “Okay.”
As soon as the couple was out of earshot, I leaned on Grace’s desk, opening the small box for myself.
I wasn’t much for croissants or really any kind of pastry. But the buttery smell wafted from the box and my stomach rumbled.
I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. Which was a regular occurrence, with a hurried cup of coffee in the morning. But just because I was too busy to think about a lunch break, didn’t mean my new assistant had to suffer as well.
“Why don’t you take a break?” I asked.
“What? No. I’m fine.” She waved her hand, but her eyes shifting to the box said something else.
“I know that look. This is exactly what you need.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine really.”
“It’s me telling you that I know you’ve been working your arse off half the day and probably forgot to eat. So we’re going to sit here and eat something.”
Slowly I circled her desk and took the seat next to her. I tried to ignore that our bodies were only a few inches apart and the need to reach out and brush my fingers along her skin was growing more and more urgent. I had to clamp these feelings down, and fast.
“You’re seriously crazy if you think I’m going to sit here and stuff my face. I’ll just grab something later. Don’t worry about me,” she quipped, her eyes on the computer.
I grabbed the box of croissants, taking one flaky pastry out, then plopping it on her desk.
“What the bloody hell?” She snapped, scooting back and brushing crumbs off her skirt.
Her eyes widened as she looked up at me. “Shite. I didn’t mean to burst like that. But this is a new skirt and…”
She sighed. “Bollocks, I need to learn to control my mouth. This isn’t going to HR is it?”
I licked m lips, grabbing a pastry for myself out of the box. “And what would they do, exactly? Tell me not to look out for the well-being of my new assistant? That maybe I need better aim when scooting the food across the table, so I don’t drop crumbs all over you?”
She blinked hard and groaned. “You don’t have to be nice to me, you know.”
“I think I do. I’m just trying to help you out. So, one small bite of the pasty and I’ll be out of your hair.” I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face.
“If I take a small bite can we never speak of this or the gala again? Call it tit for tat?” she asked, clearing her throat.
“Maybe.” I took a small nibble of the croissant, trying not to focus on the curve of her red lips when she smirked.
She grabbed the bread from her keyboard, taking a large bite, swallowing hard, then setting the rest of it down. “There, we even?”
“I guess it’s a start.” I stood up, circling to the front of her desk.
“You didn’t need to do that you know. The food or ignoring my incompetence.”
“You aren’t incompetent and we both know that. And really, you do need to eat. Can’t have a good assistant ignoring her lunch hour.”
She looked down at her computer.
“I do eat. If you can’t tell by these,” she muttered, putting her hands on those curvy hips I was just thinking about. I had to mentally shake my head to ignore the warm thrill blazing through me at the thought of my hands there instead of hers.
“I work from sunup to sundown and sometimes forget to have a snack here and there or cheese with my nightly whiskey. If it wasn’t for Fallon making sure she brought in lunch or getting an afternoon snack every day, I would have probably passed out on my desk multiple times.”
She shook her head, but still didn’t meet my gaze. “I’m not going to bring you coffee and food at your beck and call. I mean I could if that’s what you really want, but probably not the best use of my time.”
“I didn’t say you had to. But if you need to take a break, take it. There’s no shame in taking care of yourself. And if you feel like bringing something back, I’m always grateful when someone reminds me to eat.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to tell me about a company gym pass now, too, are you?”
I shook my head, instantly taken back. “What? No. I mean, we do have discounts at local gyms if you wanted to go to one. Not that I’m saying you need it.”
Feck. What was this woman doing to me that I was rambling like Fallon?
I didn’t want to be the creepy boss, so instead I met her gaze. “I should get back to work and let you finish your training.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Probably.”
The conversation should have been over, but I found myself lingering and absently tapped on the wood surface underneath my palms. “When you’re done with lunch and your HR paperwork, we should talk about your editing experience and how it can help with some procedures in the company. I’ll make sure to send you an detailed email with some instances and things I think could be improved on. Then you can look over them and have some notes before tomorrow.”
She widened her eyes with a blush pinching her cheeks. “I don’t think what I did…or do…or…”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips. She always tried to make herself out to be put together, and when she got flustered there was something absolutely adorable about it. “Don’t worry. I’m not penning a novel I want you to help me get published in there. I just need some help possibly changing up some procedures to make things easier for all of us.”
I finally stood upright and buttoned my suit coat. “Put it on your calendar. Meeting tomorrow at half past nine. I’ll bring breakfast. Or maybe we can even meet up at a café down the street.”
“This sounds like a date instead of a business discussion with a café and breakfast. You know HR probably wouldn’t like that.” She may have said the words, but I had a feeling the coy little quirk of her lips meant something else.
“Then I guess it’s a meeting and you’re getting the coffee.” I nodded and headed to my office, closing the door before she could protest.
…
Grace was always prompt.
My smile broadened when I approached the café near Murphy’s Pub headquarters. She sat at a little bistro table with two steaming coffee cups and trays of pastries in front of her.
Instead of the starched blouse and stiff skirt, she wore a flowy green dress with a silk sweater. She looked more casual than
I’d seen her, and somehow more relaxed than the girl who had been in my office the day before. Something about the dress with her hair down in soft curls made me think about what the woman was like when she did let loose.
Now it was just the two of us, outside the office, and I had to mentally keep myself from saying anything to make me look like a gobshite.
“So you did get my coffee?” I asked, taking the seat across from her.
She barely looked at me, but a slight smile crossed her lips. “Don’t get too used to it. I figured I couldn’t order just one cup and not bring one for you, too.”
“Noted. But I think this means you might kind of like me.”
I grabbed one of the cups and nodded curtly.
She shook her head, but a smile reached the corners of her lips. “You’re okay. But I’m hoping you’ll hear me out with these ideas I have.”
I blinked. “I’m all ears.”
She sighed. “You know my experience is limited to publishing so I don’t know how much this will actually help.”
She opened a leather portfolio, spreading out papers covered in excel spreadsheets and graphs.
I leaned forward and picked up one of the sheets with my free hand. “Did you prepare all of this just for our meeting?”
Briefly I looked over the sheet, glancing at the brightly color-coded categories and percentages.
“I did a little extra research on the company, after reading through your notes in the email. I wanted to show how one process would correlate to some others,” she quipped and sat up straighter. It was evident in her wide eyes that she was proud of her work yet feared rejection.
I nodded. “If you were going to work late, I’d prefer you stay at the office to do it so we can make sure that goes on your timecard. But I will say, this is impressive. Your chart here about how much of my time is spent in meetings that could be forwarded in an email makes me re-think what I’ve been doing all day. Do I really spend that much time in a conference room?”