by Emily Childs
Bastien: All true. So? Police? Or are you not worried if someone’s dying in your house? I can stand out on the porch and wait for them to come, or you can let me in. Up to you.
I hop off the chair, limp back to the bathroom and gurgle some mouthwash, while trying to keep my wet, wild curls from turning into a sticky bramble around my face.
Bastien: Okay, maybe you weren’t sure if I was kidding. I’m not here to kill you. Scout’s honor.
Laney: You weren’t a scout.
Bastien: Was. I can show you my merit badges sometime.
I roll my eyes and finish fluffing my hair, convinced it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to impress Bastien, especially not on rude, drop-ins outside of work. Holding my breath, I open my door.
Those blue eyes, I’ll always notice those eyes first. Bastien leans one shoulder against the doorjamb, all casual in his tight T-shirt and blue jeans; hair tousled and a smug smirk already in place on his mouth. He’s the worst.
“Hi, Laney,” he says, as though we always meet after work. On my porch. “May I come in?”
“Not if you’re asking me to do work related tasks. I’m off the clock.”
“Good, so am I.”
“Your mother will be so proud.”
He laughs, and the sound of it tightens like a coiled ball of twine in the pit of my stomach, tight, and warm, and heavy. I’m still deciding if it’s a good feeling or not. I cave and move aside. Bastien slips inside, close to me, so I get a heaping whiff of his spicy, sweet scent, and I’m keenly drawn to my oversized sweatpants and lifeless hair.
Doesn’t matter. I cross my arms over my chest and keep a good distance between us. “What are you doing here?”
Bastien turns from where he’s studying an old family picture, the last one with all four of us. I’m hugging my dad’s neck from behind, still cursed with braces.
“Want to sit?” Bastien gestures to my loveseat as he sits on my extraordinarily heavy couch.
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Laney. I just want to talk.”
“Why?”
“Are you always so skittish with people?”
“No.”
Bastien chuckles and relaxes against my sofa. He looks good there. Relaxed and casual suits him. I swallow past a knot, avoiding his gaze and finally sit.
“How are you?” he asks.
“Concerned, a little hesitant. How are you?”
“Anxious,” he says as though we’re in therapy together. “I need to discuss something with you; semi-work related, semi-personal.”
“Are you firing me?”
He lifts a brow. “No.”
“You sure? Because you’re being really nice, and it sort of seems like you’re bracing me to take a blow, like I’m about to be jobless.”
“I’m not firing you. I need a favor from you.”
My knees starts to bounce. “And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“It’s not entirely work-related, remember? And I figured in case you punch me or something, it’d be better outside the office.”
My eyes widen, but I grin. “You have my attention with talk of punching you. Let’s get right to it then.”
Bastien stares at his hands, he slides his palms together a few times before he meets my eyes again. “I’d like to offer a compromise for this Friday’s day off, plus I’ll give you three days off before the wedding.”
I’d been dying to spend the bulk of the wedding week with Nicole before she ties the knot. A final sister hoorah and all that, but truth told, I never believed Bastien would approve it. I never asked.
I’m intrigued. “What’s the compromise?”
“For the next few weeks there are a few company events for management. The football game this Sunday, a charity auction next week, and the wedding.”
“Not a company event.”
“No, but Holly and a huge amount of our colleagues will be there. I’d like you to attend these with me.”
“Well I am the Maid of Honor,” I tell him. “But why do you need your assistant at the game and an auction?”
“No, attend them as my date.” He clears his throat and I note the twitch in his jaw as he scrubs his palms together. “More specifically my girlfriend.”
I guess I forget how to breathe for a second. He’s making fun of me. How pretentious can he be, coming all this way to tease me over a misunderstanding? I think he had the right idea about me punching him. I narrow my eyes, voice rough. “Did Holly talk to you? Because I corrected her immediately.”
Bastien leans over his knees, face unreadable, fingers laced together. “I know what she said, and I sort of unwound what you told her.”
I stare, incredulously. He can’t be serious. My stomach aches, like he’s slugged me right in the middle. I’m not one to shriek and lose my head when tossed into an insane situation, but I’m not one to stay silent either, so I don’t. “What do you mean, unwound what I said?”
“I said you were simply being shy.” He pauses, letting that sink in, and funny enough, I’m speechless. “Laney, this will have no adverse effect on your job. Coworker dating isn’t against policy and all it will take is one signature on one of Oscar’s forms.”
“What?” My voice comes out in a sort of raspy breath.
“I want others at these events to think you’re my girlfriend.”
“No, I heard you, but . . . why?” He’s lost his mind. That’s what’s going on here.
“Because Holly is under the impression that you are my girlfriend.”
“Wait. Wait,” I say, holding up my palm. “You told her I was your girlfriend, basically telling her I lied to her face?”
Now, Bastien cracks a few knuckles. He better be squirming as much as me or I might slug him like he predicted. “No, I made sure she knew we hadn’t discussed it with anyone and you were taken off guard.”
My eyes bug out. “Me and you?”
He nods. “Actually, she said she’d been anticipating us getting together, and was really excited to get to know you since you sent your resume.”
“She mentioned my resume?” Everything is hot. I see red. “Bastien, why did you do this?”
He frees a long breath. “I made a mistake; a split-second, crazy decision.”
I jolt to my feet, pacing and snarling, “That is not good enough! Explain yourself.”
He sighs. “Can you sit? You’re making me nervous.”
“Oh, forgive me, boyfriend.” But I sit anyway.
Bastien rolls his eyes at my tone, but goes into the entire meeting he had with Holly once assistants were excused. Every, gritty, sneaky detail. By the end of it, I don’t know if I should laugh, or cry.
“You told her I’m your girlfriend, so she thinks you have a life outside the office?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t.”
“I know.”
I bury my face in my hands and groan, and consider cursing again. “Bastien—”
“Look, I know it was stupid. But the way I see it, this can help us both.”
“How? Tell me how lying to the woman who owns the company we work for can help us.”
“You get to know her because you’re with me. She starts to like you. She’s impressed with you, then hires you for a position in marketing. Off Laney goes to the fifth floor.”
“And you?”
“I get the executive position I want. Really, working together on this is in Everett’s best interest. We’re both intelligent, driven, we know the company, the accounts. We’re assets to Holly.”
“And you think we can’t get promoted without each other.”
“We could. Maybe. Like it or not, we have a romantic boss who borders on inappropriate by prying into the love lives of her employees. She liked the idea, that’s all I’m saying. I realize my proposal is unorthodox—”
“It’s crazy.”
“But has merit, all the same. Because Holly is Holly.”
“And you led her along
. I see this being a problem for you, not me.” I clench my fists, heart racing.
“True,” he admits. “I made the mistake and I can confess. I’m sure I won’t get promoted. You’ll stay my assistant, trying to compete with hundreds of applicants, both in-house and from the outside vying for a job. There will be stiff competition for a nice marketing job in a stable company with competitive salaries.”
“Are you trying to guilt me into this?”
“No, just painting a picture.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper. “Your reference.”
I scoff. “So, you’ll give me a good reference if I agree to be your girlfriend for the next three weeks?”
He shakes his head and I swear there is something like hurt in his eyes. “No,” he says. “I already sent it back to Piper. Since I stuck my foot in my mouth, I’ve been thinking, and I haven’t been fair on this. You’re the best assistant I’ve had.”
My stomach jumps. A compliment from Bastien, well, I didn’t know it could sound so nice.
“You deserve a shot,” he says. “I brought this so you could read what I said if you want. Three events, Laney. Then we can break up.”
I bite the tip of my thumbnail. I’m not a liar, but I’ve also never seen Bastien so . . . desperate. I know he wants this promotion. I can understand why it would be disheartening to hear his hard work backfired. Vague as the memories are, there was a time when Bastien would go home to Lindström as much as Oscar. Amy had gone with him all the time, that’s how I know. Maybe she had something to do with his withdrawal from family life, but that mess was his fault.
For the first time in the six months that I’ve endured our strange, tenuous working relationship, I wonder if Bastien has a bit of brokenness beneath his arrogance.
He chuckles dryly after I’m silent too long. “You know, the longer I sit here, the more stupid this is.”
He stands from my couch. Gosh, he’s tall. And lean. Strong. I blink rapidly to force my eyes off the man. Vulnerable Bastien doesn’t work well. Not with me, apparently, since it causes me to like him. Too much.
“I apologize for holding days off over your head,” he says. “This is my mess. I’ll clean it up.”
Let him go.
I grip the arms on my chair, remembering the way Holly tried to gossip like a bunch of teenagers in the hallway. There is a draw to make the woman happy, I can kind of see why Bastien vomited out the idea being alone with her. I don’t need Bastien to do this, he doesn’t need me. This is ridiculous.
I stand from my chair, pulse thudding. “Okay.”
Chapter 7
Bastien
Laney trains her eyes on the carpet as I stop at the door. My voice is low. “Okay?”
Taking a defensive position, she crosses her arms and lifts her glare. “I will go to things with you. The wedding, we need to figure that out, but I’ll be there Sunday and we can see how it goes.”
“Laney—”
“But you need to stop being a hardnose about time off,” she barrels on. “And start treating me like I know more than how to answer phones. You know that I do.”
I fight a smile. This is the Laney that leaves my head foggy. Bold and determined. I’m glad she’s bringing her own conditions. It wouldn’t be her if she simply agreed.
“I can work on it,” I say.
“No, you’ll do it.”
Her grumbly voice widens my smile, and I think she might gut me if she glares any harder. I probably shouldn’t enjoy this, after all I came here for a business arrangement at best, and a lie at worst. Muddling the already murky waters with an unwarranted attraction to this woman—not wise.
“Alright,” I say haughtily, returning to the thousand-pound couch. “Tell me your conditions. I’m open to negotiating.”
She rolls her eyes. I love the way her hair is long around her shoulders. She’s hard not to gawk at, especially when she abandons her chair across the room and joins me on the couch. I smell her shampoo, like oranges and flowers. I swallow to wet my mouth and study my hands.
“I’m not a liar,” she says. “So, we can be seen together, but we don’t need to, you know, be the first to tell people anything. Let them make their own assumptions.”
She gathers one knee against her chest. I glance at her and wish I hadn’t. Laney bites her bottom lip, and I see the hesitation there. I’ve caused it all, and if I had any kind of brains, any kind of heart, I’d let her off the hook now.
I scoot an inch closer. Laney takes a sharper breath, but she doesn’t move away. “What if we’re asked? There ought to be an agreed response.”
I note the way she swallows. Those honey-colored eyes are locked on me, unblinking. Her voice is rough when she talks. “We don’t . . . need to lie.”
“What do you mean?”
Laney groans, pressing her forehead against her knee for a few seconds. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.” She clears her throat. “We . . . date. But officially.”
“You want to date me? You?”
“No. I don’t.”
She answered that quickly. Ouch. “Oh, well perfect.”
“Well excuse me,” she snaps. “I hadn’t anticipated my boss to sweep me off my feet tonight. The sweet nothings I usually whisper are a little rusty. I’d prefer honesty.”
I don’t need to let on that I’m nervous, so I laugh to hide the way my blood is rushing to my head. “Did I really sweep you off your feet?”
She scoffs. “You did something. Look, I know our rapport is weird—”
“Rapport? Laney, you hate me.” That slipped out. I turn my stare back to my hands.
“But I think—what?” She pauses. “I don’t hate you.”
I meet her eyes; there’s sincerity there. Knowing she doesn’t completely detest me lightens the pressure in my chest more than I thought it would. “Be clear in what you’re saying then. I don’t want to misunderstand. We do have a work relationship and we’re going places that could cause problems.”
“I’ll do this, Bastien,” she says. “It benefits us both.”
“Why do I feel like a ‘but’ is coming?”
She smirks, and with this one look, officially, Laney Brooks has the upper hand.
“But ask me. For real.”
I know what she means, but truth told, watching her squirm is fun. A twitch turns my mouth into a lopsided grin. “Ask you what?”
Laney crosses her arms as a sort of challenge. “You better ask me to be your girlfriend, or all bets are off.”
I take a deep breath and a jolt of heat rushes the length of my spine when I scoot closer to her on the couch. The warmth of her body tangles in mine. For a moment I’m frozen, trapped, entirely at her will. I should’ve left when I had the chance because I’ve lost my mind. Drawing my face alongside hers, I take some pride in the way her breath hitches. “Laney, you are the girl of my dreams, please oh please, date me. Exclusively.”
Any tension in her body shatters. She rolls her eyes and nudges me away with her elbow. “You’re a little despicable.”
“Is that a yes?”
She taps her chin. “Fine.”
“Your sweet talk is making it impossible for me to keep my hands off you.” Maybe she takes me seriously because she stands and abandons the couch. It’s colder now.
“What do we do about Nicole and Oscar? I’m not sure I can keep the underlying motives from my sister. She’ll catch on or be heartbroken when it ends.”
My smile fades. “Heartbroken?”
“Nicole drops hints about as subtle as a bulldozer that I should give you a chance.”
“Really?” Nicole hasn’t ever said anything to me.
“Yeah. She totally disregards that you’re my manager and chosen nemesis.”
“Chosen nemesis? This relationship just got more interesting,” I say, stretching out and lacing my fingers behind my head.
“Trust me, you’ve earned it.”
“I’m interested in hearing how I’
ve earned it.”
She chuckles nervously. “Stories for another time, right now we need to figure out where we go from here.”
“Sunday. Football game. Laughing. Eating. Seems simple.” I still want to know why I’m the chosen enemy in her life. I must be a pathetic villain if she’s smiling and laughing—sort of—with me.
“And what about the office?” she asks.
“We keep it professional. We’re adults, but I mean if you need a bit of passion, I can oblige.”
“You’re a pig.”
I laugh and am glad when she smiles too. “We’ll need to talk to Oscar. Those forms, remember? Holly will expect it.”
“Then I’ll digress—what do we say to him and Nicole?”
I let out a long breath, coming up blank on a good answer. “We could say I asked you out, and to get ahead of anything since I’m your boss we need to fill out the form.”
“You think he’ll buy that? Nicole won’t. She’ll dig it out of me.”
“Don’t say anything you’re not comfortable with,” I say deliberately, and mean it. The idea of Laney feeling uncomfortable, or uneasy around me leaves a heavy feeling in my gut. “I realize the trouble this could cause in work and family. I mean, my family will see us at the wedding.”
“Are you going to tell them the truth?”
I shake my head. Sorry Mom. She’s going to be ecstatic to think I’ve started dating again. Telling her it’s temporary would bring out the Viking in Sigrid Olsen. Not to mention my brothers. Jonas and Axel would never let me live it down. “No,” I say. “Nothing more than we’ve gone out. But the part about doing this to impress Holly, no. I’d rather not explain that.”
“Lies of omission.”
I shoot her with my fingers. “Exactly.”
Laney plays with a lock of her curls, and she really needs to stop biting her lower lip. “You know, even though we said we’re dating it really doesn’t change that this is a means to the end. It’s not real.”
I shrug. It’ll be real for a while, and I hope that’ll be enough to satisfy this need for Laney Brooks I keep inside. “It’ll help me sleep at night knowing you don’t need to lie.”