A Little Fool for You: A Sweet Office Romance (A Little Love Book 3)

by Emily Childs

  “She might be looking to apologize, and is simply keeping up pretenses with me.”

  “Wait, do you want me to meet with her?”

  Laney shrugs. “She’s done a lot of things that suck, and when you’ve wronged people, it can weigh on you. I mean, I wouldn’t know, I’m perfect. But I can imagine.”

  I chuckle and kiss the top of her head. “I don’t want to go inward again. I close off in case you didn’t notice.”

  She tightens her hold around my waist. “Maybe I wouldn’t let you.”

  “Seeing her used to do that, though. I finally feel free of it all.”

  “You don’t have to see her,” she whispers. “But if you decide to, it might be good closure.”

  I’m closed. I’m good. I think. There are moments when I still get angry thinking about Amy, and I have avoided my hometown for the better part of a year. There is something to be said to the idea of putting everything, anger included, behind me. I want to start something new with Laney. More than I want to hold a grudge, I want to give all of me to her.

  I step back and sit at my desk, pulling out my phone. “Closure,” I repeat. “I’ll need her number, I guess.”

  Laney nods, but she’s not smiling as she recites the number. She tucks her phone into her pocket and starts to go toward the door.

  “Laney.”

  “Yeah?”

  Wow, she’s forcing a smile. Even I can see that. “Are you okay? I won’t go if you don’t like it. I’m confused though, you sounded like you wanted me to.”

  “No, go. I think it’ll be good.”

  I cross the room, grinning. She’s a terrible liar. I take one of her hands and press her fingertips to my lips. “Brooks, be upfront with me. I care more about what you’re thinking than meeting with Amy.”

  She meets my gaze. “You were engaged to her. That means something. I don’t mean to be insecure, but you know, the thought is there. Maybe you’ll remember why you wanted to marry her.”

  “Engaged or not, I promise there’s nothing there. I never should’ve proposed.” I hesitate to tell her this, but it seems important. “I’ve never admitted this to anyone, but when my brothers’ proposed they described this feeling that made them dizzy. Like the happiest they’d ever been until the actual wedding, you know?”

  “Nicole said something similar,” she whispers.

  “When I asked Amy, I felt sick. Not a good sick. I wanted it to be real, but I think in the back of my head I knew we weren’t good for each other. Or maybe I had suspicions that I didn’t want to see. I know this year I haven’t handled it well, but I don’t want to look back anymore.” I kiss her quickly, then rest my forehead on hers. “I can honestly say, the things I’ve felt these last few days with you—I never felt the entire two years with Amy.”

  Laney grips the lapels of my suit and closes her eyes. “Don’t say those things, boss.”

  “Why?”

  “Because maybe I’ll start seducing you in your office. And it’s too late. I think Dan is here.”

  “I can fire him.”

  She laughs and wraps her arms around my neck. “I’m fine. Go. Give her closure, or you get it. I’m good, I promise.”

  She doesn’t leave me much room to respond before she heads to the door. But the workday is starting. When she leaves, though, I have a split-second thought of firing everyone who ruined the moment by coming to work.

  Alone, I shake out my hands. They feel numb.

  Alone, I call the number.

  When it rings three times, I consider hanging up and calling it a good effort, but on the fourth ring she answers.

  “Hello, this is Amy.”

  I scrub my face, then cradle my forehead in my palms. “Amy.”

  “Oh. Bass?”

  “I was told you wanted to talk. Why?”

  She’s quiet for a minute. “Can we meet? I’d rather talk face to face.”

  I should say no. Why do I need closure? Laney fills me up in places I didn’t know were empty. She did it within days. But I feel the tight, barbed knot in my stomach simply hearing Amy’s voice. All those memories of walking into my house, once shared by a friend, and the things I saw. I grimace.

  I’m angry.

  Maybe afraid of something like that happening again. Laney wouldn’t do that, though. For months she was probably one wrong move from hexing me, or something, because she thought I was a guy who fooled around. She’d never do the thing she despised.

  “Bastien? You there?”

  “I can meet you in the lobby of Everett at twelve thirty.”

  “You don’t want to get lunch or—”

  “No,” I say quickly. “We can talk here.”

  “Okay,” she says softly. “I’ll see you soon then.”

  “Okay.” Then I hang up and let out a long, harsh breath.

  I rub the bridge of my nose. What does she even want? I feel cursed. The second I finally move on, she pops back up like a recurring nightmare. I keep repeating what Laney said. This’ll be closure. That sort of thing is good, I guess.

  My hands still feel bloodless when I shoot off a text to Laney: Closure is coming in the lobby at twelve thirty.

  I can see the shadow of her at her desk, shifting.

  Laney: Then I will be drinking at the Bean until two.

  I laugh and roll my eyes.

  Bastien: Last I checked your sister’s café is not a liquor store.

  Laney: She’ll make an exception for me.

  Bastien: I can cancel. Seriously. Your feelings matter.

  Laney: So do yours. I don’t want you to wonder. Admit it—you’d wonder.

  Maybe I would a little. It’s so out of the blue. When I heard she broke up with Byron I thought she might reach out, but she didn’t. Now seems weird, and I don’t like it.

  Bastien: It’ll be good to get it over with.

  That’s the best I can come up with.

  My door cracks and Laney pokes her head inside. “Want something to distract you?”

  I smile. “Always.”

  She laughs. “Hmm, I think you have other things in mind. Unfortunately—” She holds up a thick binder. “It’s report review day.”

  I groan and slump in my chair. The most tedious part of my job, and one Laney and I both complain about, though I think she despises it a little more. But when she scoots her chair right beside me and rests her hand on my leg, I’ve a feeling this time will be astronomically more enjoyable than before.

  Soon enough, Amy is forgotten, reports are being organized, and it’s not until Janna pokes her head into my office inviting us to a diner most of the others are going to for lunch that I even realize it’s quarter after twelve.

  Laney bites her bottom lip, stands, and starts raking her fingers through my hair. I’m not sure she realizes she’s doing it.

  “Okay,” she finally whispers. “Good luck.”

  I kiss her palm. “It’ll be quick and painless. It’ll be nothing.” I say the words as much for me as I do for her.

  “Bass, maybe we should keep her out of us for a second. It might be awkward.”

  “You called me Bass,” I say. “I like it.”

  “Focus,” she says with a laugh.

  “Amy doesn’t need to know our business.”

  “I don’t care if people know, don’t get me wrong—”

  “I get it. It’s weird with her and the history between all of us.”

  Laney nods and presses a kiss to the side of my head, but I twist and kiss her lips. Slow and needy.

  She smiles against my skin and pulls back. “I’ll see you later.”

  About fifteen minutes after Laney leaves, my phone buzzes again. I didn’t add her number, but when all the message says is, I’m here, it’s not hard to figure it out.

  I crack two knuckles and head toward the lobby. Time to turn the page at long last.

  Chapter 22

  Laney

  I’m about to lose my thumbnail if I keep chewing it.
Leaning over the bar counter, I pick at an uneaten plate of garlic knots. My thighs are tired from my knees constantly bouncing.

  Nicole smacks my shoulder. “Relax.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She snorts. “Right. Why did you tell him to go if it was going to bother you so much?”

  “I don’t want him to wonder. That would drive me crazy.”

  “Well, stop with the knees. You’re shaking the entire bar.” She laughs. “Lane, quit worrying.”

  “We’re still so new.”

  “So. New doesn’t mean less important.”

  I rub the bridge of my nose. “I know, but it’s not like I don’t come with a history. And not a pretty one.”

  Nicole stops drying water glasses. “Seriously? You’re going there again? Like somehow you’re this unlovable thing?”

  “Whoa. I didn’t say unlovable.” I wring my fingers together, imagining those darker moments that I should share with Bastien. Bits and pieces of the road behind me I’m too afraid to bring up. I’d like to think Bastien wouldn’t care, but others have in the past. Guys like him, the ones who’d be committed and honest. None of them cared much for the mud I tracked into their comfortable lives. I was often told the past is in the past, so I’d spill it all. Then the past became too colorful to stomach.

  “Laney, where are you?” Nicole breaks my thoughts. “Don’t tell yourself you’re not on his level. It’s not hard to see the guy is totally taken by you.”

  “Just old insecurities,” I whisper.

  “I love you,” she says, squeezing my hand. “But you need to trust me when I say Bastien isn’t that guy who’s going to hold what’s been done against you. And if he does—he’ll regret it.”

  “You’re scary.”

  She laughs. “I know Bastien. He wants you for you, and the past has made you who you are.”

  I snort, a little embarrassed. “I’m going to miss your philosophical talks.”

  “Hey, I already have a deal with Oscar that we get one sister only night a week. Come on, you think he doesn’t get that it’s you and me, forever—”

  “And for always,” I finish the saying our family used to say to each other. Our parents began the phrase as a cute spin on I love you.

  Nicole winks and scurries to help her customers and wait staff, leaving me watching the clock. I entertain myself by checking work emails. More than typical today. But with new teams and positions opening, Holly must be taking the opportunity to do annual trainings all at once. Oscar will be plenty busy before he heads off to the sun and sand with my sister.

  I grin when I see an email from Olive Cutler.

  Laney! (Do you mind if I call you Laney? You can call me Olive, cross my heart)

  The best news. My daddy was invited by Ms. Everett to attend some fancy schmancy charity event this weekend in your neck of the woods. Word has it, you might be attending. I hope you are because I would love to see a friendly face. Daddy insists I come along again to introduce him to everyone we met with earlier this week.

  Hoping to see you soon,

  Olive

  P.S. My fiancé will be coming along this time. I’d love to introduce y’all.

  I offer a quick reply telling her I will definitely be at the auction. I’m interested to meet this fiancé since I could’ve sworn the woman had eyes for Rafe. Spending an evening with her sounds fun. She might be the daughter of our client, but it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like I had a solid non-familial girlfriend. She seems like the true friend type.

  I even send my personal number so we can communicate easier.

  I never do that.

  “Still hiding?”

  I jump, nearly sliding off my stool. Praise to the emails since they served their purpose. I was distracted enough I didn’t see Bastien come inside. He laughs and helps steady me on the stool.

  “Hi. You’re done.” I glance at my phone. Not quite a thirty-minute conversation.

  Bastien takes my hand and guides me to the kitchen. I wave at Nicole to let her know we’re invading her space, but honestly, she won’t care. I stand close to him when he stops us in the corner. My hands run over his chest, and I study his face. He doesn’t seem upset, or flustered.

  “So?”

  He kisses me. There’s meaning behind it, I’m simply not sure what kind.

  My fingers trace his jawline when he pulls back. “I need words,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “As much as I love kissing you, I don’t know what that’s supposed to tell me about what she said.”

  He glances to the ground. “She told me she wanted to put the past behind us. Said a lot of things like she’s grown and learned a lot. Then she said she wanted to get back together.”

  My stomach melts out through the bottoms of my feet. “She what?”

  Bastien runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Then she left.”

  “What did you tell her?” My voice is all wrong. Breathy and high.

  “I told her I’d moved on. If she wanted my forgiveness, then she had it, but I didn’t want a relationship with her.” He pauses and meets my eyes. “I told her I’d fallen for someone else.”

  And when he kisses me, I feel like I can breathe again.

  ***

  “I think you should come. You’ll keep me from making a total fool of myself.” I adjust the dainty gold necklace Nicole brought so the charm rests over my heart.

  “Thankfully, Holly realizes we’re a week out from the biggest day of our lives and gave Oscar a break. Perfect timing since our florist is ghosting us.” Nicole inspects the royal blue dress. I’m not entirely comfortable. The cap sleeves are hardly there, and the neckline doesn’t swoop like my sister said it would; it plunges. But I do like the shape of it, curving tightly over my hips, the hem just over my knees.

  “Your florist will be there. I told you the kid at the register said his wife just had a baby. Stop worrying about the details, that’s my job as the Maid of Honor, right?”

  Nicole balks. “I have nothing else to think about. You look perfect, Lane.”

  “My feet are going to fall off by the end of the night. Why do I let you talk me into shoes like this?” I turn sideways and prop up one foot to study the black stilettos. I’m going to fall and break my nose.

  “They fit the dress. It’s one night.”

  “Yeah, and stupid of you allowing me to walk on these a week before the wedding. Just saying.”

  She laughs, but hurries to the door when a knock echoes through my house. I inspect myself once more in the full-length mirror on my wall. I let my hair fall over my shoulders tonight, and I’m wearing actual lipstick. Agnes would approve. My stomach is all tangled up in knots. I have no idea how to function at one of these events. Despite being for charity, the hotel ballroom will be packed with the wealthiest clients and trustees of countless businesses from here to Minneapolis.

  Doesn’t matter, I tell myself. I won’t be the one who is expected to woo anyway. That’ll be up to Holly, the executives, and managers. I offer a mental good luck to Bastien like we’re stepping into a formal version of the Hunger Games, then abandon my room.

  I smile at the sound of Nicole laughing with Bastien. It’s convenient they were already friends before this beautiful whirlwind started. He’s leaning over my counter while she bustles around simply because my sister can’t sit still longer than twenty seconds.

  I fumble on the heels and draw his eyes to me. “Wow, Laney.” He doesn’t hide the way his eyes mark every inch of me. I don’t mind, but it makes me want to kick my sister out. Bastien comes over to me. “I say we stay in.”

  “Same wavelength,” I tell him, my fingers trailing down the smooth black tie he’s wearing. “But it took some effort to get fancy, and the world deserves to see you like this. It’s cruel if we keep you locked up.”

  He laughs and kisses me gently, careful not to smear my lips.

  “You two are sappier than me and Osc,” Nicole says. The woman is a maniac. She’s w
iping my already clean counters.

  “Nic, you’re not at the Bean. Go get Oscar.”

  “I’m meeting him in an hour,” she says. “And wiping counters is my Zen. Go away.”

  I roll my eyes, clutch Bastien’s hand too tightly, but he is officially my personal walking stick. If I’m going to be in heels, he’ll need to get used to it. The drive downtown takes ten minutes. Lights and cars line the walks outside the hotel. There’s a valet; I’m impressed, but utterly out of my element. These corporations who throw these parties don’t hold back. Funny, though, how much money is spent to invite the people with money to come spend more money.

  “Don’t look now, but I think the mayor found you,” I whisper against Bastien’s ear when we’ve barely stepped into the ballroom.

  Dan from our office is sipping from a tumbler, listening to the stout man bark whatever topic he’s on now. The mayor has a rough voice that overpowers all other sound. When he catches sight of his favorite statistician, he practically catcalls.

  Bastien sighs, but waves. He looks at me as though he might apologize. I hold up a hand. “Say nothing,” I insist. “Go and get those fancy people he’s with to switch their marketing needs to us.”

  “I’m not a salesman.”

  He sounds uneasy, even nervous. I straighten his tie. “I’ve been your assistant for six months, boss. I think it’s time to tell you that when you start talking about all those brainy things you know it draws people in.”

  “It does not. More like freaks them out that I care about probabilities and algorithms so much.”

  “I mean it. You don’t see it, but you have a knack for getting people to trust you. Enough they’re convinced their livelihood is safe with you.”

  Bastien’s eyes sort of cut through me. He’s uncertain of his own talent, and I sort of love seeing this side of him. Not that I want him to feel unsettled, but I’m grateful he feels comfortable showing vulnerability with me. “You mean that?” he asks.

  I lick my lips to keep from kissing him. Having the mayor as my audience is cringy. “Every word. Now, I will get us some drinks, see if I can find Olive, and I’ll meet you in a second.”

  Bastien flashes me that grin that leaves a lasting simmer deep in my lower belly, and joins the growing circle of elites. I take in the silent auction items, gawking that someone was gusty enough to auction a diamond necklace that is probably worth more than my house.