Best Kept Secrets

by Shelly Ellis

  “Hi, Leila!” one of her neighbors shouted from the lowered window of a Toyota Civic as she rolled by the couple.

  Leila waved. “Hey!”

  The nosy neighbor stared at her, Evan, and the Town Car with interest a bit longer before finally pulling off. When the car disappeared, Leila whipped around to face Evan again.

  “Look, I know your deadline is today, but you told me that if I didn’t contact you by now then you’d take my answer as no. So why the hell are you here? Would you like me to say no to your face?” She took a step toward him. “Is that it? Well, then no! No, Evan, I don’t accept your offer!”

  “I came to apologize.”

  That knocked the wind out of her sails. “To . . . to apologize?”

  He nodded, looking solemn.

  She hadn’t expected that. When she’d walked out of his office a week ago, an apology was the last thing she’d thought she would hear from Evan. He had seemed so sure of himself, so cocky.

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “Because I was wrong, and I can admit when I’m wrong. I messed up when I made you that offer.” He took a deep breath. “I still want to help you, if you’ll let me, but there are some things we still have to hash out, Leila. I’ve carried around this anger toward you for too damn long.”

  “What anger? Why? Is it because I lied to you about the money . . . because I said it was going to my mom and I gave it to Brad?” She shook her head in frustration. “Look, Ev, I know what I did was wrong. I—”

  “It’s not just that!” He stared at her in disbelief. “You honestly think I wouldn’t talk to you for ten years because you lied to me about loaning Brad money?”

  “Well, if it’s not that, then what the hell is it?”

  He sighed and closed his eyes. “Did you help Brad and his friends rob my dad? Did you know they were going to pull guns on him and rough him up that night, or was that some dumb shit they decided to do without telling you?”

  Leila blinked in amazement. She was struck speechless for a few seconds but finally regained her words. “Rob your dad? When the hell did Brad rob your dad?”

  Evan opened his eyes then sighed gruffly. “Leila, please don’t play stupid. You know what I’m talking about! Dad saw you drive the getaway car. I just want to know if—”

  “Your dad said he saw me there?” She brought her hand to her mouth. “Is that why you’ve refused to talk to me for all these years? You thought I was involved in that? You really thought it was me?”

  He didn’t answer her, which was all the answer she needed.

  “Jesus, Evan,” she breathed.

  Had things really gotten that bad between them that Evan thought she was capable of doing something so horrific?

  We’re worse off than I thought!

  “Ev, I wasn’t fond of your father—by a long shot, but I would never, ever rob him, let alone hold him at gunpoint! What do you take me for?”

  He pursed his lips then shrugged. “I didn’t know who you were, Lee. I didn’t recognize you anymore.”

  “Obviously,” she muttered, now more than hurt.

  “So I guess you’re saying you didn’t do it. Dad was mistaken?”

  “Of course, I didn’t do it! That’s not even something I’m capable of doing!”

  “But Dad swore he saw you at—”

  “Then your dad was wrong! Either that or he was lying, Evan!”

  And she wouldn’t put it past Evan’s father to make up a lie like that. George Murdoch had despised her and had barely masked his loathing. George had hated that she and Evan were friends, even back when they were kids. She couldn’t understand why at the time. Was it because he didn’t want Evan associating with a poor girl like her? Was it because her parents were divorced? It wasn’t until she and Evan were much older that she’d figured it out. Leila realized that George had wrongly assumed she was trying to maneuver her way into the Murdoch family. He thought, like many in Chesterton, that Leila was only friends with Evan to move up the social ladder. He had thought her goal was to get Evan to marry her, when that couldn’t have been further from the truth!

  Evan now narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her. Slowly, his features softened. “I believe you. Shit, I believe you!” He leaned back his head and groaned. “My father played me like he always did. And I fell for it—hook, line, and sinker. Shit!” he shouted, balling his fists.

  “I wished you would have told me this years ago, Ev. Why are you just confronting me about it now?”

  “Honestly?” He paused and thought for a bit. “I guess it was easier to believe the lie. It was easier staying angry at you. That way I had an excuse to cut off all contact. I wouldn’t have to . . .” His words drifted off. He looked over her shoulder at her neighbor’s lawn, breaking their mutual gaze.

  “You wouldn’t have to what?”

  His dark eyes drifted back to hers. “I wouldn’t have to see you with Brad. I wouldn’t have to let the jealousy eat me up anymore.”

  Her heart sank. An ache welled inside her chest. “Oh, Ev. Evan, I am so—”

  “Don’t,” he said, holding up his hand, cutting her off. “That’s old news. We can put it in the past now that we’ve hashed it out. Let’s focus instead on the real reason why I’m here.”

  She squinted. “Which is?”

  “I want to offer you a job, Lee. A legitimate job . . . if you’re willing to take it.”

  Well, Evan was just full of surprises today! That certainly wasn’t what she had expected. “What . . . what kind of a job?”

  “Before I go into too much detail,” he began, “I guess I should start by saying that if you take this job, you’ll be working for me directly.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Would that be an issue?”

  Leila hesitated. Sure, they had “hashed things out,” but considering he had tried to pay her for sex a week ago, maybe working for Evan wasn’t the greatest idea. It was obvious their relationship as employer and employee would be starting off on very awkward footing—to put it lightly.

  If it was any other guy, Leila would say “no” outright. But this was Evan. She had known him since she was nine years old, and for many of those years she had trusted him without question. Maybe what he’d done a week ago had been a momentary lapse in judgment. Maybe he did legitimately want to offer her a job.

  Who knows? she thought. But at this point, she was willing to hear him out. She was willing to trust him again.

  “No, working for you wouldn’t be an issue,” she finally answered. “What’s the job?”

  “My executive assistant. And I’m going to be honest with you, Lee. I’ve had a hard time keeping the position filled. I’m a hard boss to work for. I can have pretty exacting standards.”

  “I know. I remember you in sixth grade . . . how you had to have your pencils lined up just so. You even had a certain way you liked the housekeeper to stack your food in your lunch box. Didn’t you have an order system for your locker in high school too?”

  Evan pursed his lips, looking annoyed at being prodded about his OCD tendencies. “Well, anyway, if you agreed to take the job, you might find it a little challenging, but you would get a good wage and benefits. Do you have any office experience?”

  She eagerly nodded. “Sure, I had a few office jobs in college and now I’m doing part-time office work for a law firm.”

  “Good! Good, so you won’t raise any red flags with HR.” He licked his lips. “Well, email me your resume. I’ll have my human resources director set up an interview with you. We’ll schedule it first thing next week. It’s a given that I’ll hire you, but for legal reasons we still have to go through the formal hiring process.”

  She nodded again, feeling elated. It was like the sun was starting to finally break through the storm clouds that had been her life lately. “I understand. That makes sense.”

  “Well, then, I guess I’ll see you in my office next week for the interview.” He turned like he was heading back to his car, but then suddenly halted.
“Oh,” he said, holding up a finger, “before I forget . . . there was also the issue of your mom’s mortgage.”

  Had he managed to take care of that too? Judging from his facial expression, Leila surmised that he hadn’t.

  “It seems that I don’t wield quite as much power as I thought,” Evan began. “I tried calling the bank president, but it looks like the wheels of bureaucracy can’t be stopped once they’re set into motion. He was very apologetic, but he basically said that your mom’s house will go into foreclosure. I heard that they want you guys out—”

  “In three weeks,” she said, finishing for him. They had gotten the final letter already. “I’m sorry, Lee. There’s nothing I could do to stop it.”

  She sighed. Her shoulders slumped. “I understand. Thank you for trying anyway.”

  “But what I can do is offer you one of my rental properties. I’ve owned a few condominiums and town houses since college. Most have been good investments. You should be able to afford the rent on one of them with the new salary you’ll be getting.”

  Leila’s throat tightened. Tears welled in her eyes. So they wouldn’t have to live in an apartment that smelled like cat pee, after all!

  “Thank you, Evan.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “No, I mean it! Thank you so much. I hadn’t . . . I hadn’t expected any of this.”

  “I’m not sure you want to thank me yet. You haven’t started working for me. Being my executive assistant could be your worst nightmare.”

  “But it’s a real opportunity. It’s what I’ve been hoping for . . . hell, praying for! You have no idea what all this means to me!”

  “Well, glad to help . . . and glad to have you on board.”

  They both stood in silence for a long time. She could feel that electric charge erupting again. It was the same feeling she’d had before he’d kissed her. It was building with each second, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

  “See you next week,” he said abruptly, ending the tense moment. “We’ll work out the details about your lease then too.”

  He turned to head back to his car again, and she got the distinct feeling that he was fleeing. She wondered if he had felt the electric charge too. Was he getting goose bumps? Had his pulse also quickened?

  The driver instantly stepped out of the car and rushed to beat Evan to the rear door.

  “Bye! Thanks for everything, Magoo!” she called after him. She clapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment when she realized she had accidentally called him by his old nickname.

  Evan paused just as the driver opened his door. “Leila, I’m your employer now,” he said grimly, fixing her with a steely glare. “If you’re going to work for me, you have to have some decorum. All right?”

  Oh, shit. Here was the exacting boss he had mentioned, the one who had caused his other executive assistants to quit. What had she gotten herself into?

  “That’s Mister Magoo to you,” he said with a wink, before climbing inside the Lincoln Town Car, making her sigh with relief.

  She grinned as the driver shut the car door behind Evan. Less than a minute later, the Town Car pulled off.

  Leila turned and strolled up the walkway, relieved to have a new job, to have a place to live, and to finally have her best friend back.

  Chapter 14

  EVAN

  “Charisse!” Evan called as he stood in the middle of their immense foyer. He glanced at his wristwatch and sighed. “Charisse, we’re going to be late!” His voice echoed off the coffered ceilings and plaster walls.

  “All right! All right! I’m coming!” she exclaimed as she stomped down the staircase leading to the east and west wings. “Just . . . keep it down. No need to shout the roof off.”

  Evan looked up to find his wife wearing dark-tinted sunglasses—definitely a sign she was recovering from the latest hangover. But at least she wasn’t stumbling down the stairs. She looked presentable, wearing grey capri pants, a white halter top, and a lavender cashmere sweater draped around her shoulders. Her hair was in a chic chignon at the nape of her neck. Her look was befitting the wife of a CEO and co-hostess of the golf tournament fundraiser being held today. Whether she remained in such an immaculate state was the question.

  “You look nice,” he said.

  Charisse waved away his compliment. “Let’s just do this, Ev,” she muttered before striding toward their French doors. “I’ve got an exfoliation treatment scheduled for five-thirty. I need to be back by then.”

  He sighed. So much for his halfhearted attempt at politeness.

  A half an hour later, they pulled up in Evan’s Maserati at the entrance of the Chesterton Country Club, where the Murdoch family had been members for decades. Evan had foregone using his driver today, giving the father of four the Saturday off so that he could spend it at home with his family.

  The sports car’s engine rumbled, then quieted to a soft growl when he drew to a stop on the country club’s asphalt driveway between two orange cones designating the valet station. Evan quickly spotted Leila standing in the shadow of the country club’s green and white striped awning. She waved.

  At the sight of Leila, he smiled. From the safety of the tinted sports car window, he let his eyes trail over her—those long, sculpted legs, the curvy bust, and the tiny waist. Then he reminded himself for the umpteenth time that he was a married man with his wife sitting only a few feet away, no less. He also was now Leila’s boss, which came with its own list of rules of conduct. But it was hard having a daily reminder of his lack of a sex life walking through his office door.

  On any given day, he would see Leila stride toward his desk in her black pencil skirt, silk blouse, and high heels or a formfitting wrap dress and have to force himself not to stare. She would lean over his shoulder, pointing out something on his computer screen, filling his nose with her alluring scent, and his mouth would literally water. When they had to work late and she sat across from him with a carryout container and chopsticks in her hands, with her feet propped up and her head thrown back, laughing at one of his jokes, he would have to fight the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. It was like he was sixteen all over again. He remembered this slow agony well, and he had no idea why he was putting himself through it all over again almost twenty years later.

  Because you want to help her, he silently told himself. Because she’s doing a good job and you need an assistant and she needs the money.

  Letting her go wasn’t an option. Not only would he have no justification for doing so, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Leila in that way, to turn his back on her again. So he pushed down his desires and focused on being as professional as possible around her, but it wasn’t getting any easier.

  Evan watched as his wife lowered her Chanel shades and glared at Leila over the plastic rims.

  “Who’s that?” she asked with a curl in her lip as Leila strode from the entrance and walked toward their car.

  He threw the Maserati into park and removed the car keys. “My new assistant, Leila Hawkins.”

  Charisse turned to her husband and squinted her bloodshot eyes at him. “New assistant? What happened to the old one?”

  “She quit. Couldn’t hack it. Leila filled her position. She’s turned out to be a good fit.”

  Charisse raised her sunglasses, pushed them back up the bridge of her nose, and pursed her lips. “You don’t say.”

  Just then, the valet opened Charisse’s car door. She stepped onto the brick walkway and Leila instantly rushed forward and extended her hand in greeting while Evan got his valet ticket.

  “Hi, Mrs. Murdoch, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you! Evan has told me so much about you.”

  That was a lie. Evan preferred not to talk about Charisse, especially to Leila, for fear of blurting out some sad detail about his marriage like the fact that his wife openly loathed him or that they slept in separate bedrooms.

  Charisse glanced at Leila’s hand but didn’t
shake it. Instead, she turned back to Evan. “So what’s the agenda for today? Who are we schmoozing?”

  Leila pulled back her hand and loudly cleared her throat. “You’re going to meet fellow sponsors of today’s fundraiser. We have representatives from some companies and a few foundations. Some of them brought their wives and they’re all mingling in the clubhouse right now. We’re serving hors d’oeuvres and cocktails.”

  Evan inwardly cringed. Cocktails? Jesus Christ, he thought.

  Maybe, if Charisse kept it to just one or two mimosas, she wouldn’t get too bad, but once she started moving on to the Bloody Marys and martinis, it would only go downhill from there.

  “Please follow me,” Leila said with the smoothness and professionalism she regularly showed back at the office.

  “We know where the clubhouse is,” Charisse said curtly, making Leila halt in her steps. “We are members of this country club, you know. Or did your new boss neglect to mention that?”

  Leila’s smile faltered. “Of . . . of course, Mrs. Murdoch. I didn’t mean to . . . I mean . . . I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  “I wasn’t offended.” She paused to look Leila up and down. “Evan was telling me how you’re such a great assistant. May I ask, where did you work prior to taking this job?”

  “Well, uh . . . I did freelance secretarial work for a law firm and um . . . I was a waitress.”

  “A freelance secretary and a waitress?” Charisse tilted her head. “And now you’re the personal assistant to a CEO at a major corporation. That’s quite a climb up the ladder!”

  “I guess it is.”

  “A woman like you must have some interesting skills to make it up all those rungs.”

  “Charisse,” Evan said warningly. He had no idea why his wife was acting so hostile to Leila, but he wasn’t going to stand there and let her abuse his assistant and his friend.

  Leila shrugged, now looking uncomfortable. “I’m a hard worker. Even though I may not look qualified on paper, I’ve tried my best to meet Evan’s expectations.”

  Charisse chuckled. “Oh, I bet you do.”