Then There Was You: New York Times Best Selling Author

by Contreras, Claire

  I hung up the phone and readied quickly, dressing as if I was going to a business meeting, even though I had no set destination just yet. Surely there must be at least a dozen realtors nearby. I always saw the open house signs scattered around. My heels clicked on the marble floor as I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. I started a pot of coffee, set a pan with some oil on the stove to fry some eggs, and had just popped two slices of bread into the toaster when the doorbell rang. I nearly dropped my jam.

  I looked around the kitchen and put a timer on just in case. The last thing I wanted was for the oil to get too hot and for the entire house to smell like smoke. As I walked to the door, I tried to figure out if the insurance coverage was worth the potential jail time. I opened the door, my mind still on jail and whether or not the food was as bad as they said it was when my breath caught at the sight of Rowan on the other side. His hands were tucked into the black slacks he was wearing, his eyes as piercing as the blue tie around his neck. Why did he have to be so handsome with his perfectly brushed back hair and perfect body? And why the hell was he at my house? I gripped the door.

  “What are you doing here?”

  His head tilted. “You aren’t going to invite me in?”

  “No,” I said. “How’d you know I was here?”

  “This is your house, isn’t it?”

  I searched his face for a beat and realized he really had no clue what was going on in this house.

  “Still. What do you—“ The beep, beep, beep of the timer filtered through the house.

  “Shit.” I let go of the door and strode back to the kitchen, putting the toast on a plate and setting the bubbling oil aside for a moment. It had gone from not hot at all to too hot too quickly.

  “You move impressively fast in those heels,” Rowan said behind me.

  “You want eggs?” I asked out of courtesy. He stayed quiet for a moment too long, so I turned and found him leaning against the threshold, his arms crossed, and a strange look on his face. “Is that a yes or no? Did you eat?”

  “I . . . eggs would be great.” He pushed off the jam and joined me, walking to the coffee machine and pouring two mugs. “You still take it black?”

  “Like my soul.”

  He set the black one aside and poured a shit-ton of sugar and cream into the other. He glanced up at me, grinning. “One of us has to have one.”

  “Do you want your eggs scrambled?”

  “Please.”

  “Ham? Cheese? Hot sauce?”

  “My mouth is watering. I’ll eat whatever you give me.”

  I smiled and got to work. Rowan watched me from the barstool and sipped his coffee. I kept my back toward him as I prepared his food in silence because the air was already charged with enough strange energy. Once I was finished, I set our plates down, leaving a chair between us. His arms were too long and sitting beside him when he was eating had always annoyed me.

  “This is great,” he said, stuffing more eggs into his mouth. “I could get used to this.”

  “You shouldn’t, but I’m glad you like it.”

  He smiled, wiping his mouth on his napkin. “Where did the maid go?”

  “We don’t have one.”

  “Where’s your sister? Freddie? Your dad?” He frowned, looking around. “I know your mom’s in France.”

  “Everyone’s gone.”

  “Who are you staying here with? Joan?”

  “No. Joan has her own place, she’d never leave that hill.”

  Rowan stared, chewing slowly. “Why are you all dressed up?”

  “I always dress like this. Not that you would know.”

  His lips twitched. “I’m used to seeing you in converse and ripped-up jeans.”

  “I’m used to seeing you in spandex.” My face flamed as I thought about him in his rowing outfit . . . and halfway out of it. I’d seen pictures of a well-celebrated calendar that he and his rowing crew had been a part of. It was . . . impressive to say the least.

  He chuckled softly. “You saw the calendar.”

  “Who didn’t see the calendar? It was all anyone talked about.”

  “Does my brother know that you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

  “I haven’t, and it doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it matters.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked despite myself.

  “Because it means you’re still interested in me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “I don’t need to.”

  I rolled my eyes and took a bite of my toast, swallowing my snappy comeback. I didn’t have time for this game today.

  “Why isn’t Sam staying with you?”

  “Why would he be?”

  “You have a huge empty house all to yourself, you’re together now, why wouldn’t he?” He raised an eyebrow. I realized two things: Sam hadn’t told him the truth and Rowan was trying to call my bluff. Tough luck. I wouldn’t budge on this.

  “You’re right. I’ll invite him over tonight, tell him to pack a bag.”

  His jaw clenched. “Why him?”

  “Why not?”

  “Why him?” he asked again.

  “Why her?” I fired back.

  “Why do you keep bringing her up? Because of the rumors back in college?” He dropped his fork and ran both hands through his hair in an exhale. “It was never serious between us.”

  “It never is with you.”

  He stared at me a moment longer. Seconds ticked by. Minutes. My heart felt as if it were on a frantic free fall from the highest rollercoaster imaginable. I hated that I felt this pull between the two of us, hated that it had to be him to make me feel this way every time. I broke the staring contest first, and he stood and gathered our plates before taking them to the sink and washing them while I sipped my coffee. The entire exchange may have been the most domestic thing to ever occur in this kitchen, argument and all. The thought made my heart heavy.

  “So, where to?” he asked as he dried his hands and faced me.

  “I need a realtor.”

  “I thought you wanted to get out and never come back.”

  “We’re selling the house.”

  He blinked. “This house?”

  “We don’t have another one that I’m aware of. Unless you want to drop some more knowledge on me while I’m in town.”

  “You love this house.”

  I shrugged. “What is love anyway?”

  He looked as if he wanted to say something but just shook his head. I hated when he left my curiosity scrapping for more, but I wouldn’t give in to it this time. I’d purged and wasn’t allowing myself any luxuries.

  “Do you know any realtors?” he asked.

  “No. Do you?”

  “A few. Want me to make some calls?”

  “No, thank you. I’m sure you’re busy. You’re all dressed for work and stuff,” I said and then frowned. “You never told me why you came by.”

  “You didn’t answer my call yesterday.”

  “You called once.”

  “And you didn’t answer.”

  I laughed. “You call someone one time and then show up at their place if they don’t answer? This is something that women are actually okay with?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t call people unless I’m interested in doing business with them or fucking them.”

  My heart launched hard against my chest. “Oh. Are you trying to hire me?”

  “Not exactly.” His smile was sinful. “Although, I do have a job if you want one.”

  “Want and need are two entirely different concepts,” I said. “I know they’re entirely foreign to you, but you should become familiar with them just in case.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that,” he said. “Do you need one?”

  I hesitated. “I’m only here for two weeks.”

  “You’ll probably be more efficient than half the people there in those two weeks.”

  I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and peered up at him. I h
ad a little money socked away, but I could definitely use the extra cash just in case. “What positions are available?”

  “I need an assistant.”

  “An assistant?” My eyes widened. Work in close quarters with him? “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not? It’s only temporary. The assistant I hired bailed on me yesterday, and I need to start going into the office to sort shit out, but I can’t do that and book appointments. I could use someone I trust.” He paused, watching my reaction.

  Having Hawthorne on my resume would look pretty good, even if it were only a two-week assistant job.

  Don’t do it. He kissed you the other day and awakened things you hadn’t thought about in years. He’s here because he clearly wants to fuck you, and that will never end well. Don’t do it.

  “So, I’d be doing you a favor.” I heard myself speak, but I hadn’t meant to. It was as if my brain and my heart were having an invisible tug-of-war and my heart was winning by a mile.

  “Huge favor.” His eyes glittered in a way that made me shift from one foot to the other.

  “What’s your position?”

  “Officially? CFO.”

  “Well, la-di-dah.” My brows rose. “Must be nice.”

  His expression soured. Rowan hated talking about things like that. “Do you want the assistant position or not?”

  “When would I start?”

  He eyed me up and down. I tried not to let that sweep affect me. “You can start right now.”

  “I need to find a realtor.”

  “You can make some calls from the office.”

  My heart pounded. “Okay.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Rowan

  I hired her before thinking it through. I seemed to do that a lot where she was concerned. Still. I could use the help. I hadn’t lied about that.

  “How much are you paying me for this?” she asked from the passenger seat.

  “Well, I’m doubling as your taxi driver right now, so that should shave off a few bucks.”

  She sputtered out a laugh. “Nice try, hot shot.”

  My heart did a little dip. I glanced over at her and couldn’t help but smile. I knew I needed to take things slowly with her. If I didn’t, she’d chop my head off and run away. At the first sign of discomfort, she would run. At least she used to. I reminded myself that I didn’t know this Tessa well enough yet.

  When I reached the stoplight, I studied her profile. She was so goddamn beautiful and she didn’t even know it.

  “Did you sketch any more dresses yesterday?”

  “Just the one.”

  “Are you still sketching furniture?”

  Her smile was slow and wide. “Here and there.”

  Here and there. That meant she had a drawer full of sketches no one but her had ever seen. I’d kill to see the room, the drawer, and have her show me the sketches. That ship sailed long ago, though.

  Camryn, I reminded myself. Fucking Camryn and the stupid rumors she’d spread. Not that they’d all been completely false. Unfortunately.

  “I’d love to see them.”

  “Maybe.” She looked over at me as I pulled into the parking lot. “So, you’ll tell me what I need to do, right?”

  “Yes, and I’ll walk you to HR so that they can discuss payment with you.”

  She shrugged. “I mean, I’m only here for two weeks. Is it worth me filling out all the paperwork?”

  I parked and turned toward her. “What happens in two weeks?”

  “I check out both locations and pick what apprenticeship I’m taking.”

  “Hm. New York or Paris. What companies are offering the apprenticeships?”

  A small smile splayed on her lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  She got out of the car and sauntered toward the front of the building. I gave myself two, three seconds to look at her ass before I got out of the car and jogged over to her.

  “I would like to know.” In truth, I was dying to know, but I wasn’t sure why. I chalked it up to curiosity.

  We walked toward the building. It wasn’t a big high-rise by any means. It was only four stories, but every floor was filled to the max. After buying Monte from Tessa’s family, we were able to secure their office building and their factory. It was important to her father that the employees kept their jobs, and my dad agreed with that, but that meant we had to house more employees than we had room for. We walked to HR, where I quickly explained Tessa’s position and salary, and then told them to prepare the papers.

  When we walked by the marketing area, Samson’s head snapped up from his computer. He frowned at the sight of Tessa beside me. I watched him closely, noting the way his eyes said something to her and hers said something back to him.

  They had a wordless, two-second conversation, and even though I only caught one end of it, I decided they were both full of shit. Maybe I didn’t know my brother the way I once did. Maybe we weren’t on the best terms anymore, but I knew when a man was in love with a woman, and this wasn’t it. Annoyance ripped through me. Why would they lie to me about something so stupid? It made no sense. Still. It didn’t change the fact that if they were lying, my brother was an asshole. If they weren’t lying, he was a bigger asshole because he was trying to get under my skin. I placed my hand on her elbow to guide her in the direction of my office, made the introduction between her and the people who worked in that area, and then lead her into my office, shutting the door behind us.

  “Why did you lie to me about Sam?”

  Her eyes widened slightly as she took a step back. “What?”

  I didn’t repeat myself. She knew I wouldn’t. I kept my hands balled at my sides in an effort to keep from reaching out to her. What I wanted to do was grab her arms, push her back against my door, and kiss that surprised look right off her face. The way she molded against me during our kiss the other day hit me in a flash, and I felt myself harden in my slacks. I wondered if she knew how she affected me. Probably not.

  “Lie to you about what exactly?” she asked. “Being with him?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “What do you want us to do? Jump each other every chance we get? He respects my space, and I respect his. He is at work, you know?”

  I watched her for a moment and decided that I didn’t believe her. Maybe I just didn’t want to. Something was going on there. Maybe they were just hooking up; I wanted to punch the thought away. The door opened behind her before I could question her further, and my father peeked his head in, his lips pulling into a welcoming smile when he saw Tessa.

  “My girl, it’s been so long.”

  “Al. Always a pleasure.”

  He stepped in and gave her a warm, albeit quick hug. Dad wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, but he’d always loved Tessa. “What brings you by?”

  “I need a new assistant.”

  Dad glanced up. “Again? This is what, assistant number three in one summer? What the hell are you doing, Rowan?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, fix it,” Dad said sternly. His features softened when he turned to Tessa. “Don’t let him scare you away, and if he tries, you come talk to me.”

  “I will.” She smiled. It was a smile she hadn’t directed at me in four and a half years. The realization shook me.

  “I spoke to your father the other day. He keeps inviting me up to go fishing. Have you been?”

  “I visited last summer. It’s truly beautiful out there. So peaceful.”

  “A lot of wineries, too, I heard.”

  She nodded. “We visited one. It was breathtaking.”

  “I’d love to hear about it. Maybe I can plan my visit around fishing and wine.”

  “Hey, you don’t need much more than that,” Tessa said, smiling. Dad chuckled. I stared dumbfounded. In five minutes, she managed to turn him into a nineties-sitcom father. He was a no-good father, no-good person I reminded myself. He was a cheater, a liar, a user. He was a fake. Even Tessa had to see th
rough his act.

  I was still stuck firmly in disbelief when he turned to me, saying, “Rowan, I’ll be expecting you in my office in five minutes.” Then he turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

  Tessa turned to face me. “So, do I get a desk?”

  “It’s right behind you.”

  She pivoted slightly, looked, and then turned back to me wide-eyed. “We’re sharing an office?”

  She looked so absolutely horrified that I stifled my urge to laugh.

  “We are.”

  “Did the last three assistants have to share an office with you?”

  No, but she didn’t need to know that. “I already told you, we’re running out of space.”

  She blinked, looking exasperated. “This is crazy.”

  “It’s only two weeks.”

  “Right. You’re right.” She dropped her hand. “Two weeks.”

  “Look through the Rolodex on my desk. I should have some realtors in there.”

  “Oh my god, you have a Rolodex?” She brought her hand up to try to stifle her laugh, which didn’t work. What escaped her lips was loud and full of mirth. The sound stirred something inside me, and I found myself laughing right along with her.

  “It keeps things neat.”

  “Neat,” she squeaked, laughing harder. “You can keep things neat on your smart phone or computer.”

  “A Rolodex is a perfectly fine tool. It’s alphabetized and easy to use.” I felt myself scowl. “Besides, I don’t want my secretaries going through my smartphone or computer.”

  “Oh my god. You’re such a dork.” She was still laughing lightly as she said it. “Do your admirers know how big of a nerd you are under all those hot muscles?”

  “I don’t know. Are you one of my admirers?” I grinned as I watched the expression on her face morph from amusement to complete embarrassment. She looked away. When she looked at me again, she’d already schooled her expression into one that screamed haughty attitude.

  “Isn’t your dad waiting for you?”

  Shit. He was. He hated waiting. I looked at her a second longer, wishing she’d drop pretenses and let me read an unfiltered expression. She wouldn’t, and I knew it. I begrudgingly walked out of my office and headed toward my dad’s. I took a breath when I reached it, knocked once, and pushed the door open. I sat across from him, crossing my ankle over my knee as I waited for him to finish his phone call.