by Stacey Lynn
“She said she didn’t have a problem. Actually, she said she’d never had wine before.”
Dad shook his head, understanding and compassion clouding his features. “Damn shame. So damn young to lose much of your life. The best years…”
He trailed off and I gave him a minute. Melissa was twenty-eight when she died. Being around Lilly reminded him of his own daughter, but in different ways.
As much as I liked Lilly, as much as I was attracted to her, I wasn’t lying on the campus that day.
Her entering our lives was going to create a mess I wasn’t sure I could clean up.
“You should tell her. Everything.”
He shook his head. “Time isn’t right yet.”
My fingers thrummed the conference table. “When will it be?”
“When it is,” he said, right as Stephanie reappeared. She wore her patient and professional smile as she stepped back and announced, “Miss Huntington is here to see you.”
“Lilly, please,” she corrected Stephanie.
“And thank you.”
She wore another thin, inexpensively made dress much like she wore the last time she was here. On Fridays, most of the office emptied out by three o’clock but while we were here, the office was casual. All except Dad. He always wore dress pants and a dress shirt. On Fridays, his idea of a casual dress was forgoing his standard tie.
As for me, I wore black slacks and a short-sleeve polo.
Lilly out dressed us both in her navy and white striped dress, a thin yellow belt tightened at the waist. Her shoes, navy sandals, looked new.
And it hit me. None of this was secondhand. None of it was faded and reused.
She made an effort with this. Both times.
And she did it while looking beautiful and put together and most likely, exactly how she would have dressed all those years ago.
Yes, Lilly was surprising in all the best ways.
“Mr. Valentine, Hudson,” she said to us, nodding in each of our directions.
“How many times—”
“David,” she corrected immediately with a shy smile. “Unless you prefer employees to call—”
“David. Everyone calls me David. In fact, you’re the only one who’s called me Mr. Valentine in probably thirty years.” He grinned at her and motioned for a chair. “Please. Sit.”
Like last time, she took a seat on the other side of the table.
This time, she did look at me, and when she did, I caught that darkening pink on her chest and throat. Hopefully it wasn’t an anxiety attack but something better. Melissa used to call them butterflies.
I called them hormones.
Regardless, I knew exactly what I was feeling while Lilly took her seat, opened up the file folder, and after a brief catch-up with my dad about her new apartment, she slid a piece of paper in his direction and said, “I’d like to apply for this job.”
Yeah… that feeling was respect. And I was feeling a whole hell of a lot of it.
“This is…” My dad trailed off and bit the bottom corner of his lip. His head lifted enough to glance suspiciously at Lilly. “This is really what you want?”
She sat across from us, poised and professional. Her hands were clasped together, softly, at the edge of the table and her back was straight. Like all the other times I saw her outside the diner, her makeup was minimal. Her hair was down this time, in a shining sheet of caramel and honey. Blue eyes sparkled.
Probably, if I leaped over the table and slammed my mouth to hers to taste her glistening pink lip-gloss that wouldn’t end so well.
“What one?” I asked and Dad slid the paper in my direction.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. With as much effort as Lilly put into fighting help, that she chose the job we offered with the smallest hourly pay and least amount of qualifications should have been a given.
Yet, I now understood Dad’s question. She could have worked with Stephanie, and I felt that same disappointment Dad showed. We’d wanted her to choose that job. And she hadn’t gone the design route with Miles which surprised me, too.
“You sure?” I asked. “You’ll be working with Brandon, a great guy, actually. But he does the financial planning for our projects.”
“I’m sure. It’s what I’m going to school for. You might be giving me these opportunities, but I can’t accept the others. It’s too much.”
“Lilly—”
“No.” She meant it fiercely and hell if my chest didn’t swell with more respect. Unfortunately, her chin wobbled as she struggled to take a breath. Next to me, my dad tensed.
“I’ve lost a lot,” she said, voice catching over her words in a way a pain went straight to my soul. “I’ve lost almost everything. The one thing I can salvage is my pride, and while I will accept help, I will not accept anything more than what I know I’m capable of. So I would like to interview for this position.”
Goddamn. The fire in her eyes was something so different than I’d seen before. So much less anger, so much more determination.
If I wanted to kiss her before, it was nothing to what I wanted to do to her now.
Next to me, my dad, in a thick and hoarse voice, said, “Go get Brandon. He’s still here, correct?”
Peeling my gaze off this woman and focusing on my dad was difficult. “Yeah.”
“Then go get him.”
I didn’t bother with the elevator. With employees leaving early on Fridays, it was always busy. I chose the space and seclusion of the stairwell, thundering down the two levels until I reached the sixth floor and headed straight to Brandon’s office. He never left early, most nights stayed late, so I wasn’t surprised to see the light on in his office and an earpiece tucked into his ear while he paced the room.
Like me, Brandon had a hard time sitting still.
Unlike me, his was due to years of anxiety from living in an abusive home life he left shortly before we met.
I waited at his doorway while he finished the call. Jenna, based on his dopey lovely grin. Also, he called her sweetheart.
“Hey,” he said, tapping a button on his phone. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”
“Dad has someone in the conference room on eight he wants you to come meet.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
His brows furrowed, hands to his hips. “About what?”
“He’s looking to hire you some extra help for a part-time position next to Sandra. Is she here?”
He gaped at me like a fish. Opened and closed his mouth a handful of times before his brows rose on his forehead. “No. She’s already left for the weekend but let me make sure I’m clear on this. My assistant is getting an assistant?”
We hadn’t told him or anyone else of our plans. No one would argue with Dad anyway, but I didn’t blame him for being shocked. There was a reason for this, though. “Yup.”
“Since when?”
“Since Dad decided you work so damn slow you need more hands on deck.”
“Asshole,” he muttered. “Not Dad. You.”
“I know.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my pants and rocked on my heels. “So are you coming?”
“To give an interview I wasn’t aware was happening for a position I didn’t know I was hiring for?”
“Yup.”
His eyes narrowed right before he tossed the phone to his desk and shrugged. “Sure. Why the fuck not. Interested to find out what Dad’s doing now, anyway.”
I directed him toward the stairwell for privacy’s sake this time and opened the door. “Interview is for a Lilly Huntington.”
I hopped up three steps to give myself some space.
Five, four, three, two… suddenly, I wasn’t running from Brandon anymore but was thrown backward, back to the cement wall with one strong forearm braced against my chest and the scent of Brandon’s BLT sandwich from lunch inches from my face.
I waved my hand in the air between us. “Jesus. Lay off the bacon.”
“Tell me it�
��s not.”
“It is.”
“She’s—”
“On parole.”
“And Dad’s…”
“It’s what Melissa wanted.”
His shoulders heaved, face turned purple. Right before I went to get him off me, he shoved me harder into the wall and stepped back, scrubbing his hands in his hair.
“You knew about this?”
I should have felt like an asshole for keeping this from him, but I couldn’t quite summon the emotion up. Brandon did better when he didn’t have to overthink things. And this was something that would have made him struggle. This way, he could meet her, decide he likes her, and move on. “For the last year, yeah, knew he wanted to help her.”
“This is fucked up.”
“Yup.”
“Shit.” He leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees. Breathing slowly, he tilted his head back. Pain. Memories. Hell, painful memories, etched into the lines on his forehead. “You both owe me some serious expensive fucking bourbon for not clueing me in on this earlier.”
“Dad thought it’d be easier if we kept it between us.”
“So what? She’s his new runaway project?”
“It worked for you.”
He closed his eyes then and stood. Dad found Brandon under a bridge at the age of thirteen years old and brought him home. After a call to the police station, several to family services, he was placed in our home after the cops arrested his parents. That wasn’t unusual but considering Brandon had been living on the streets for over a week and when the cops went to his house his mom was high as a kite and in possession of enough heroin to make a small country rich with drug money, he never saw her again.
She was still in Mitchellville Women’s Prison. On her third stint.
Clean, for all we knew, but Brandon had never gone to see her.
When he was sixteen and getting close to aging out of the system, Dad and Mom legally adopted him so he knew he’d always have people who loved him.
While we were always close, always best friends after several months of adjustment, it was Melissa who he was closest with.
“You are so damn lucky Jenna and I have dinner with her parents right after I leave here or otherwise, I’d be bloodying your face with my fist.”
I had no doubt. Brandon’s anger issues ran deep along with his fear of abandonment. A handful of others. Jenna soothed him in a way I never could. After he raged for months after Melissa’s death, it was Jenna who pulled him back.
“Come on.” I slapped his shoulder. “You have a new assistant to hire.”
“Seriously. This is messed up shit. She know anything?”
“Dad wants to tell her when the time is right.”
“When’s that?”
“Whenever he says.”
Brandon huffed. I lost my grin.
There was only so much I could do, so far I could push, before Lilly was sure to find out the truth.
We were destined to explode before we ever began.
I had every intention of riding this wave of borrowed time for as long as I could.
19
Lilly
Hudson returned minutes later and knocked on the doorframe before reentering the conference room.
“Brandon had to use the restroom. He’ll be here in a minute.”
This was happening. My palms went clammy and I pressed them to my thighs. I was sitting here. Interviewing for a job. All the nerves I’d tried to fight back all day bubbled and threatened to boil over.
“Okay,” I rasped, my throat parched. I reached for the bottle of water, but as I did, my hands shook. I shoved them back to my lap.
Across the table from me, David smiled at me in an understanding way. “There’s no need to be nervous. Brandon’s a good guy.”
Beyond David was a massive wall of windows, highlighting the Des Moines skyline and the bright shining sun. The peace of the view did nothing to quell the racing of my heart.
Hudson waited in the doorway, leaning against it like he was relaxed, but as soon as he glanced down the hall, he stood, back straight, hands to his hips. The easy look he had when he arrived vanished and hardened.
My pulse kicked it up another ten notches. At this point, I was at risk of a heart attack.
His demeanor changed so suddenly, I felt my own posture respond in response right before he stepped into the room and another man followed him.
“Lilly. This is Brandon.” He waved his hand out to the side.
Brandon walked in, similarly dressed as Hudson in dress pants and a golf shirt with two bold strips across his chest. Their clothing were the only similarities. Where Hudson was sharp lines and olive-skinned and jet-black hair, Brandon’s was side-swept and sandy brown, looking more surfer boy or Abercrombie model.
His dark, piercing blue eyes held me hostage, though. They were tight, along with his lips and the way he held himself said he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be here meeting me.
I glanced at David to see his own expression had gone weary.
“Lilly,” Brandon said, and came toward me with the grace of a panther and the friendliness of an alligator.
I stood, shoving back my chair so harshly in surprise I stumbled over it, almost falling into him.
A furious heat hit my cheeks as I stammered, “Hi. Sorry. Lilly… so nice to meet you.”
He shook my hand, warm and strong, and I cringed at the sweat on my palms. If he noticed he didn’t react, but those blue eyes of his narrowed.
“Yes. Nice to meet you.” He stepped back, dropping my hand.
It was a lie. That much was obvious and sour milk curdled in my stomach. How was I already blowing this so badly?
“So, Hudson tells me you’re here to interview for an assistant position with my assistant, Sandra?” As he asked, he swung his gaze toward Hudson and David, brows lifting on his forehead.
Both of them nodded. It was David who said, “Yes.” And patted the chair next to him at the conference table.
Oh God. Nerves pricked at my fingertips for an entirely different reason. Had he not known? He seemed as equally uncertain as David appeared confident.
I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. Of course.
This had to have all been some kind of setup. No wonder Brandon looked pissed. I doubted he had any idea about this until a few minutes ago.
But this wasn’t an opportunity I was going to pass up, not now that I’d decided to take the plunge. I cleared my throat and waited until three sets of male eyes focused on me. “Can I please… can I please speak with Brandon alone?”
Hudson pushed from his perch at the doorway and stepped toward the table, placing his palms at the edge. “Lilly.”
His tone was edged with a warning, one I quickly dismissed.
“I’d like to do this interview with Brandon alone,” I said quietly but managed to strengthen my voice.
Across from me, Brandon looked impressed and slowly, his tightly pressed lips lifted into the hint of a smile.
“Yes, Hudson,” he drawled out, twisting to face him. “Give Lilly and me a few moments to discuss the position.”
Said with all the venom of a snake waiting to attack, I swallowed the jumble of nerves gathering in my throat and nodded at David.
At my look, he pushed back from the table and clasped Brandon on the shoulder. “Take good care of her,” he quietly whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.
But I did hear it, and a strange sensation pulsed down my spine. Both Brandon and I waited until they were gone and the door was closed before he faced me again.
“So. Lilly. Tell me about yourself.”
“Excuse me?” My head spun. I would imagine the question was a standard interview question, but given the fact I assumed he’d had no idea about this, it wasn’t what I expected.
Some of the tension seemed to melt from his shoulders and softened his tense expression. “Lilly,” he said and leaned in, smirking. “I think we’re both smart enough to know
this is some ruse, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I think I just figured that out. But—”
“No buts,” he replied and flicked his hand in the air. “I’m going to be bluntly honest, is that okay?”
It was about time someone was with me.
“I’d actually really appreciate that,” I said on a rush, releasing some of the coiled tension in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Hudson and David, standing only a few feet outside the door through the slightly opened blinds. We only had the illusion of privacy and based on Hudson’s pacing, he didn’t like me asking for it.
But why? Yeah. Honesty. I could use a few large doses of it.
“Please,” I said when Brandon hadn’t spoken.
He grinned, losing more of the harsh attitude, and settled back in his chair. “Until Hudson came and got me, I had absolutely no idea my assistant was getting help.”
“I sort of figured that out.”
“Good. Then you’re smart and to be further honest with you, I’ve known David and Hudson for a long time. An incredibly long time, so I know them well. We’re practically family and so I know if David wants me to get help, I’m getting the help. Essentially, you have whatever job they offered you so I would just like to take a few minutes and learn about you. See your strengths, what you can do so I can at least come up with a game plan for Sandra. Does that work for you?”
“What?” He was hard to follow and left me speechless. “David didn’t give me this job,” I said stupidly, because it was clear I was going to get whatever job I asked for. “I chose this one. Out of that stack.” I pointed to the file David left on the table.
Brandon’s brows rose with surprise and he pulled it in front of him. “May I?” He gestured.
“Please. And I… I was under the impression this would go differently.”
He barely glanced at me as he quickly flipped through the papers and job listings, humor loosening his features with almost every flip of paper. “If David and Hudson want you working here, you’ll be working here, it’s as simple as that.”
“Why?” My hands had balled into fists and I flexed them beneath the table. I’d known, in some way, they were essentially giving me a job. But Hudson had said something else that helped minimize the anger of feeling like I’d been played. It’s up to you to keep it.