by Emily Childs
My phone buzzes and I hurry to answer. “Olive? Are you here?”
“Yes.” It sounds like she’s trying to whisper, but it’s the loud kind. “And I think I might die of boredom. I’m at the cocktail bar.”
My eyes flick over the heads in the crowd to the golden lights surrounding a moveable bar. A man in a white suitcoat is serving grossly overpriced drinks and cocktails. I smile when I see her. She’s in a glittering emerald evening gown, but slouching over the bar, chin propped in one hand.
“I see you. It’ll be an hour until I can cross the room to you, though. I’m in heels.”
She giggles and tells me she’ll send a search party before I hang up. Maybe it doesn’t take an hour, but it takes longer than crossing a ballroom should.
“Laney!” she waves when she catches sight of me. Olive Cutler is vibrant, and although she’s part of this world of finance and powerful wealth, she sticks out as someone who doesn’t fit. In a good way, like she follows her own drum.
“You look amazing,” I say when she squeezes me. “Where do you even get a dress like this?”
“Italy,” she tells me, as if it’s natural that outfits are imported. “But look at you. Girl, you have the legs that’d make a saint green with envy. You alone?”
“No, Bastien has been surrounded by the sharks for the time being.”
She snickers and follows my pointed finger. “I wondered if y’all were an item. I’ll need to introduce him to my daddy. He was impressed with your man’s analysis or whatever.”
Heat floods my cheeks. From pride, maybe? “He’s good at what he does. Sort of a nerd, but a hot one.”
She laughs and drags me to the counter, insisting I order drinks with her while we wait for Bastien. He arrives, a little exhausted, a few minutes later.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Olive says once the bartender hands us glasses of strawberry champagne. She taps Bastien’s shoulder like we’re all best friends. “Rafe and I did go to your family’s bakery. Boy, it was to die for. How are you not a thousand pounds?”
I didn’t think I’d get so much satisfaction hearing Bastien laugh. He rarely did before, and that’s a shame. It’s a sound I could get used to.
“As a kid I could eat anything I wanted. Now I have to pace myself,” he tells her.
“I want recipes, but they’re probably super-duper secret, huh?”
“Some of them,” he admits. “But if you tell my grandpa that the Danish should rule the world, especially if you say it in front of his Swedish business partner, I think he’d tell you anything you want.”
Olive laughs at that and insists she’s going to try out the plan. She nearly chokes on a sip of her drink when she catches sight of something in the crowd. “Oh, here they are. I want to introduce you to my daddy.”
Bastien and I both stiffen, back in professional mode. Olive waves as two men in fitted suits, polished shoes, and important looking haircuts carve their way through the crowds.
“Bastien and Laney, I’d like to introduce you to Lon Cutler, the guy you both confused in the best ways with your reporting skills. Daddy, these are the two I was telling you about.”
Lon is tall, slender, and not as intimidating as I imagined. I think it’s his smile. He takes my hand between his. “Pleasure to meet you both,” he says like a true southern gentleman. “Ollie’s been goin’ on nonstop about the work y’all put together for us. I’m impressed, and made it clear to Ms. Everett that I hope to have the likes of you both on the team for our firms. Grateful to be growin’, but tracking business and handling the data is growing too tedious to do in-house. We need folks like you.”
I smile, unsure what to say, so I murmur, “Thank you, sir.”
Bastien is more coherent. “We’re looking forward to working together as well.”
Lon chats a few numbers with us and it’s amazing to be included like I’m part of the team already. Most of these tycoons, when they find out I’m an assistant, ask me to get the coffees. Lon Cutler doesn’t even flinch when he asks my opinion on market strategy.
“Excuse me,” he says after a few minutes. “I’ve found a competitor I need to ruffle a bit.”
He winks, and I assume he’s half-joking. Maybe? He could be friendly, but cutthroat for all I know.
“Laney and Bastien,” Olive says, her voice not quite as spritely. “I’d like to also introduce my fiancé, Tom Abernathy.”
The second man turns away from the bar, a drink in hand now. He’s tall and lean with a handsome face, all sharp edges and chiseled. His smile isn’t as friendly as Lon’s, more obligatory.
“Tom, these are the friends I met last time.”
He snorts and looks at her like she’s a child who said something funny, but ridiculous. “Olive, you didn’t come to meet friends. You met with professionals who are now working for your family.”
Uh, what?
Bastien rests a hand on the small of my back, trying to hide a smile because I narrow my eyes. I’ve never been one to hide how I’m really feeling. He shakes Tom’s hand, but makes everything better when he says, “We are professionals, but we know how to have fun too. I think I speak for both of us that we’d consider Miss Cutler a new friend.”
Olive’s smile spreads, wide and bright and I could tackle the man with kisses, right here, right now. I don’t. I can control myself.
“See Tom? Not everyone is sucking up to close the deals,” she says.
He lifts his glass, that same condescending look on his face when he looks at her. “My mistake.”
Tom dives into Bastien. Apparently, I don’t have as much say anymore. After a few attempts on Bastien’s part to include Olive and me, I nod at Olive to step away from stuffy talk.
“Sorry about all that,” she whispers, eating the olives from her drink. “Sometimes Tom forgets women can rule the world too.”
I snort. “That’s okay.” It isn’t, but I’m not going to tell her that her fiancé is a total tool. “You ought to stop by the bakery before you leave. Get a treat to take home to Rafe.”
Yes, I’m leading and don’t care.
The smile in the corner of her mouth tells me everything. “He’d like that.”
“So what does he do for your father’s company?”
“Oh,” she says as she takes a drink. “Really he only works a bit on weekends. He landscapes our property. During the week Rafe’s a mechanic.”
No wonder he looked so uncomfortable. I lift my brows. “That’s great.”
“Yeah. His mama has always worked as one of our housekeepers. She’s a gem, but that’s how we’ve been friends for so long. Rafe, his mama, and his twin brother lived on our property.”
“Oh, he’s a twin? Bastien has twin brothers too.”
Olive grins. “I love how that’s what you ask about. Most people turn up their noses when they find out he’s elbow deep in grease. At least in the circles I’m expected to run in.”
“You’re kidding? I thought this was the twenty-first century.”
“Ha. Tell that to Honeyville.” She gulps a long drink, lips tight as she swallows.
I sympathize with Rafe, understanding what it means to feel inadequate. “I liked him, and think it would be wicked handy to have a mechanic around. No matter how much money you make, we all need them, right?”
“That’s what I say,” she says with a bit of disgust, as though she’s been shouting to a crowd who refuses to listen. “Lately, I feel like even Rafe is falling into the noise and is keeping his distance. When we came here, that was the first time we’d seen each other in a month. People can be quite vocal about the idea of us being friends.”
When she says the words, she’s looking directly at Tom. I assume he’s part of those people.
“Well, ignore them,” I tell her. “You seemed like you’re comfortable around Rafe, and being friends that long, it’d be a shame to let that go.”
“I knew I liked you,” she says with a smirk. “We’re on the same page. But enough about me.
I want to know the saucy details with you and your lover.” She points her glass at Bastien and winks.
Lover? I like that word. “We haven’t really dated that long.” I leave out the details of how we got together. It’ll seem crazy that we both wanted to work with her account so desperately we became a couple to impress a romantic boss. “But I like where it’s going.”
“You two are so cute together. Like I’ve counted at least five times that he’s looked over at you while Tom’s been grilling him.”
My stomach flips. I take my turn and find Bastien. Our eyes meet. He smiles, then dutifully turns back to Tom who seems determined to quiz Bastien all night. We are good together, aren’t we?
He’s so much more than I once thought of him.
He’s kind, loving, funny. He told me he’s falling for me. Maybe not I love you, but as for me, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it inside much longer.
I’m one hundred percent sure that I’m falling in love with Bastien Olsen.
Chapter 23
Bastien
Laney leans against me as we sort of stumble up to her front porch. She giggles when I catch her around the waist. Then I laugh, and I’m not even ashamed that it sounds like a giggle too.
“Are you tipsy, Bastien?”
I grin. “Yep. Why do you think we took a car, Brooks?”
She snorts against my shoulder. “That’s funny.” She tosses her arms in the air. “We did it. We went to the charity thing together. Holly loves us.”
I chuckle. She’s not wrong. Holly complimented us three times throughout the evening about how good we looked together. I couldn’t agree more with our CEO. And I’m certainly not complaining that the charity auction was vastly different than I originally thought it would go when I first presented the idea to Laney. I’d hoped, but never thought she’d be in my arms like she is now.
Laney stops at the end of the walk, and sighs. Exasperated. “I don’t think I can climb my steps.”
“I’ve got you,” I say and make an awkward attempt to lift her.
She laughs and stumbles. “No, no. I’ll do it. I’ll do it.” Laney takes the first step, her ankle rolls, and she goes down.
“Whoa, you okay?” I crouch next to her.
“Ouch,” she says, but she’s still smiling. “I hate high heels, Bastien. I’m going to fall on my face at the wedding.”
“Nah,” I say as I take her shoes off and help her limp up the stairs. “I’ll hold you up. Did you hurt your ankle?”
“I think so, not bad, but it sort of hurts.”
She hands me the key to her house, it takes a second, but we make it inside and somehow I get her situated on the couch. I blink until I can focus and call Axel.
“Laney’s ankle needs you,” I say the second he answers.
“Bass?” His voice is groggy.
“Her ankle needs you,” I say again. Laney covers her mouth to muffle a giggle. “What do I do?”
I hear Axel curse at me under his breath, hear rustling in the background, then his voice is a little clearer. “What happened? Do you need to drink some coffee before you talk to me? I would’ve appreciated it before you woke me up.”
“You’re fine,” I say. “She fell off her shoe.”
“Is it bruised or swollen?”
I press my phone to my chest. I don’t mean to shout, but my voice is raised. “He wants to know if you’re bruised and swollen?”
She checks her foot. “Nope. All good.”
I go back to the call, and catch Axel complaining to Elle’s sleepy voice. “Hey. I am absolutely, one hundred percent not sloshed, Ax. I heard that.”
“Whatever, little one. You’re going to owe me,” he says. “Ankle?”
“Not bruised.”
“She probably just rolled it. Prop it up and put some ice on it. Can I go back to bed now, or did someone snap a hamstring?”
“Thanks, Doctor Olsen. You have a doctorate, right? Yes, you do.”
I think I finally get Axel to laugh, but he does hang up after calling me a rather impolite name, and I tuck that away for future, possible ammunition against him. I invite myself into her kitchen and toss some ice in a plastic bag, then wrap it up in her dish towel.
“Why are you slamming my cupboards?” she calls to me.
“I’m looking for things.” I wiggle the handmade ice pack when I return to the living room, and prop her foot onto pillows over my lap. “This’ll help.”
Her lashes flutter, but she links her fingers with mine. “I had plans tonight. The kissing kind, but I ate so much, and my head is spinning. I don’t think I can move. Want to do the couple thing, the one where people have been together forever, and we Netflix and chill?”
I let my head flop back against her couch, gently run my fingers over her ankle, and nod. “Sounds like you read my mind. But we will raincheck those original plans.”
“I’ll put in on your schedule, boss.”
Before we’re through the first episode in The Office, the ice pack has melted and fallen to the floor. I fall asleep, suit and all, with her back to my chest, my arm wrapped possessively around her waist. Truth told, I can’t remember a time when I’ve been so at ease, so comfortable. It’s a sweet feeling, and one I never want to lose.
***
“Well, you look more awake,” Laney says once she opens her front door the next morning.
Sometime after five I slipped out, and took a car to my house to clean off the scent of strawberry champagne. She hadn’t even budged when I’d kissed her forehead and tucked the blanket around her chin.
Now, she wiggles the ladybug sticky note with my scribbled explanation on it. “I never thought I’d be the girl who liked finding little notes in the morning, but here we are. Admit that you like my ladybugs.”
I laugh and step inside. “They’re growing on me.”
She’s in pajama bottoms, but her hair is in bouncy curls. “They’re here. Come in and eat!”
Oscar waves from the kitchen table, Nicole smiles like she’s never been happier to see me as she dishes up a plate of sausage and eggs. A spur of the moment breakfast together. All to talk wedding, but I don’t care. It’s strange to be out on a Saturday and I haven’t even thought of going into the office. I have a feeling this is exactly what Holly was talking about.
I clap Oscar on the shoulder before taking my seat next to Laney. “Thanks for getting my car.”
I’d sent my sheepish text explaining I’d needed to abandon the thing at the hotel parking lot. He didn’t even question, and went with Nicole to grab it.
“Thanks for not driving,” he adds. “How was the auction?”
“Pretty fun, actually,” Laney says. “Bastien got two new businesses interested in working with us. A sporting goods chain, the CEO about asked Bastien to marry him when he explained how the team could fix his data reports and help boost that bottom line.”
“Well, it’s always about the bottom line,” I say as heat floods my cheeks.
“Then he schmoozed some hot-shot stockbroker from New York. Straight off Wall Street. He wants his entire firm to meet with us.”
I give her a glance, feeling like I can take on the entire world. “I only talked to them because you told me to.”
“But you did the rest,” she insists, her hand resting on my back. “I’m telling you, something happens when you start talking about binomial, parameter statistical inferences or nonsense like that.”
“That’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”
Nicole barks a laugh, but I study Laney as she moves on to talk about the plans for the wedding week. We were teasing just now, but there is truth in what I said. Last night, she empowered me. I would’ve never approached heavy hitters before, likely would’ve left them to the executives. But she reminded me that being an executive in Everett is exactly what I want. All it took was a few nudges, a few simple words, like ‘you’ve got this’ and I went. Because of her. It strikes me all at once how she mak
es me better.
She always has. As an assistant, I’ll never find a better one. As a woman, well, there is no woman like Laney Brooks.
She’s only working one day this week. The office suddenly seems cold and ominous in my head, but I won’t admit that. Because I can’t ask her to work instead of spending time with her sister.
I can’t tell her how she broke me free of my own gloom. The words won’t come.
I can’t tell her how she’s becoming the one thing that makes the day worth living.
How do I put into words everything reeling through my head when she touches me, when her laugh lightens my mood, when her kisses make me forget my name?
“Bass,” Oscar says.
I blink, not realizing I’d zoned out. “What?”
Laney chuckles and says something about late nights, but then slides her phone over to me. “I have an interview.”
She bites her lip, waiting for my response. I’m both dreading this, and over-the-top excited for her as I read Holly’s personalized invitation to come in Monday morning. I rest my arm around her shoulders. “You’ll do awesome.” Then I look to Oscar. “You better start advertising for a new assistant.”
Laney’s cheeks grow red. “I think you should consider Janna. She knows the office and she’s organized. If I even get the job.”
I tilt my head as I consider it. Janna is young, but Laney isn’t wrong. She’s liked by everyone and she knows how it works.
“But what about if Bass gets promoted?” Nicole says.
I take a deep breath. Hopefully. “I’d still be over the same office. Smart to get out while you can.” I squeeze Laney’s shoulder. “Double the work.”
“You’ve figured out my diabolical plan because everyone knows you’ll get the job,” she says as she takes a strip of bacon.
“I have a feeling this week is going to be wicked perfect,” Nicole says wistfully as she rests her head on Oscar’s shoulder. “The wedding being the best part, of course. But I’m excited about all the changes with you two. Work, late nights together. Bastien, as Laney’s sister I hope you were a gentleman yesterday.”