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“I’M BEING TRANSFERRED.”
My face paled as my mouth fell open in horror.
“Rose! Oh my gosh—NO! To where?! California?! This is all my fault! I pretended I was being transferred from there, and now you’re being transferred to there as some sort of karmic punishment! Who told you—was it Trish?! She’s always been jealous of your talent—of course she’s behind this! Oh, Rose! Don’t worry! We’re going to fight this thing! We’re going to fight it to the very end! I’ll talk to Tom first thing in the morning and—”
“Jenna! Breathe!” She offered me the bottle, and I took a steadying sip. “I’m not being transferred to California, I’m being transferred on loan to...” she closed her eyes as if it was killing her to say this, “...the financial department.”
I blinked. Wait. The financial department? But that was—
“Oh my gosh! This is so great!” I jumped on top of her, shrieking and clapping my hands in glee. “We’re going to be working right next to each other! Maybe even on the same floor! I wonder if they’ll let us share an office...”
“Would you stop?” she complained, reaching for another cookie. “You know how I feel about finance—it’s the worst! It’s so boring!”
“Hey,” I chided, coming back to earth, “I happen to live for finance.”
“It makes you boring too,” she assured me. “Whenever you talk about it, I tune out and start re-watching old episodes in my head.”
I snorted with laughter and reached for the cookie bag. Oreos. I’d recently become quite fond of Oreos...
“So why are they sending you over? The merger is basically finished. I thought that if they were going to request backup from PR, it would have happened already...”
“I have no idea.” She threw back her long hair and perched on the counter. “I just go where Trish tells me to. Like a slave.”
“Like a slave, but so much better because you’re going to be with me!”
Even she had to smile at my undaunted enthusiasm. She threw an Oreo at me and took another swig of vodka before her face screwed up in a sudden frown. “Wait—why would you have talked to Tom about it?”
I froze in the middle of licking the white cream from the center. “Oh...um...”
Lies didn’t come as easily to me with Rose. That and she happened to be one of the most intuitive, observational people I knew. While it was literally killing me to keep this a secret from her, I was half amazed she hadn’t figured it out already. It was thanks to Tom’s precautions, not my own prowess, that Rose remained in the dark.
“Jen, you’ve got to let that go,” she said sternly.
Ever since Christmas, she’d come down firmly against Tom Larchwood. In her eyes, he was a prick, and then abandoned me the second the holidays were over.
“The man doesn’t deserve you. He’s a jerk; you’re a gem.” Her blue eyes sparkled wickedly. “On that note, I hadn’t thought about it yet, but I’m actually looking forward to coming over to the finance division. It’ll give me a chance to speak my mind...”
My throat clenched. “Rose—don’t.”
“Maybe at the staff meeting tomorrow.”
“You wouldn’t—wait—you’re going to the staff meeting?”
“I’m running it.” She hopped off the counter with a sigh. “Someone has to tell you nerds what society is being groomed to think about you.”
I rolled my eyes and held the bottle to my lips. “I’m so sorry that you’re going to have to spend time with people who focus on actual facts and instead of public perception.”
She sniffed. “Yeah, me too.”
“You are incorrigible! What do you think’s more important to the world—how it runs or how it looks when it’s running?”
She gave me a long look. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”
“I’m going to bed.” I grinned and headed down the hall. “Good luck at the meeting tomorrow.”
She laughed. “Don’t be silly—we’ll ride in together. Now that we’re going to be working in the same place, we can share a cab. Maybe one of those new fancy cabs you like so much!”
* * *
I WANTED TO SPEND A few minutes with Tom at work. I got him alone in the hallway and shot him a seductive look.
“Remember the rules,” Tom said. “Remember professionalism and discretion is key.”
I sighed. “I know. Between nine and five, romance must appear to be the last thing on your mind. Maintain a work like demeanor at all times. We must avoid touching, lingering looks, or intimate conversations.”
I glanced around. Nobody was coming. “Then let’s set up a rendezvous.”
“I’m swamped,” he said. “I have to get the Johnson account...”
“Just ten minutes,” I said. “Please. I need to feel your lips on mine. The Johnson account can live ten minutes without you, I promise.”
We started planning how to get a few minutes together like secret undercover agents. We planned cover stories. Tom made me mesmerize all kinds of stories for different situations. Every single move was plotted out. We’d even plan how we’d arrive from different directions, not to mention, planned escaped routes. We knew places we wouldn’t be found and left nothing to chance.
“The north stairwell,” he said. “Meet me there at two p.m.” He winked. “The camera is accidently out.”
I laughed. “Why there?”
“It’s empty. And we can hear people coming. And I don’t have a lot of time, baby. But I’m dying to have a few minutes with you.”
Those precious ten minutes met everything to us.
***
I DON’T THINK I HAVE ever been more proud of my best friend than I was at the staff meeting the following morning. Not when she graduated first in her class from Yale, not when she organized a boycott of our high school beauty pageant.
She was on fire.
From the second she walked in, the entire room sat up to attention. Everything from her glowing olive skin to her silky black hair, to her long, shapely legs screamed ‘look at me!’ But it was when she started to speak that they really took notice. Most PR types fit a certain brand, just like us finance kids did. Little designer dresses. Professionally vapid. Beautiful, but in the grand scheme of things, expendable to the cause.
Rose blew those stereotypes out of the water.
Knowing her audience as she did, she came at us with numbers. Quoting statistics and polling data like it was written on a screen in front of her, concisely summarizing the PR department’s image strategy with the merger while simultaneously proving the need for such action to be immediately taken.
Even if she wasn’t making perfect sense—which she was—I don’t think anyone would have opposed her.
Patti Macer, my supervisor, was staring at her with huge eyes, amplified even bigger behind her thick glasses—like she didn’t know a single woman could present such a force. The lawyers, Kiev and Mariska, were staring at her shrewdly. Jamie, as usual, was nodding along but thinking about Stacy. And even the unreadable Trask was showing some life in his eyes.
But it was Michael who was the most telling.
He was staring at Rose like he’d never seen a woman before. Like if he hadn’t been frozen in his chair, he might have fallen right over. I knew she was now on his radar. Despite my chilly feelings toward him after our kiss, I couldn’t help but stifle a little smile. He looked completely shell-shocked, gulping nervously as her ice blue eyes swept his way.
“So in short, we’re going to be re-vamping our image,” she summarized. “Focusing on the two dynamic brothers to give the company a more youthful, charismatic appeal. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be working up profiles on the both of them for a release to be timed out with the merger. Any questions?”
No one moved a muscle. She glanced my way, and I gave her an encouraging wink.
“Then Henry, if you have nothing to add, I think we’re dismissed.”
I turned with the rest of the room to stare in shock at Trask. He had a first name?
“Oh—um, yes, yes, Miss Bell. And thank you for the presentation. I think I can speak for everyone here when I say we’re very happy to have you.”
Rose nodded graciously and swept from the room as everyone began clumsily stumbling out after her. I made my way slowly to the door, relishing the stunned reactions around me.
“...did you see her shoes? How can she even walk...?”
“...telling you, we should have gotten into PR...”
“...how can someone terrify and turn you on all at the same time...?”
I was grinning ear to ear by the time I met up with her outside. She was leaning against the door of my office, taking stock of the floor as she waited for me to arrive.
“Well congratulations,” I beamed, “you’ve got them all running for the hills.”
“I can see how you could go a little power crazy in here,” she murmured. Her eyes narrowed speculatively as she glanced around. “This place makes me want to rule something.”
I nodded knowingly. “And this is only the seventieth floor.”
“Miss Bell—”
We turned around to see Michael slowly making his way through the crowd. He was approaching Rose cautiously like she was some mythical creature he didn’t want to scare away.
“Or is it Rosalie?”
Her eyes swept him impassively. “Miss Bell is fine. What can I do for you, Michael?”
His handsome face paled, taken aback to be questioned so directly. “Well, I was, uh, I was just coming over here to introduce myself, but I guess you already know who I am.” He laughed nervously, and she stared coldly back.
“I most certainly do.”
There was something chilling about the way she said it, and he dropped his eyes to the floor. “I...I didn’t know you knew Jenna. You guys meet...at the gym?”
Rose smiled sweetly, but there were daggers in her eyes. “No, but I hear that you two did.” She linked her arm through mine in a protective, vengeful gesture. “Jenna’s been my best friend since high school. Now we’re roommates.” Her eyes narrowed. “She’s like a sister to me.”
Michael backed away, speechless, as the silent message was understood.
“Oh, well I mean...that’s wonderful, I...” He fumbled around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out his phone. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”
Rose watched him shrewdly as he hurried away to the elevator.
“That’s the same guy who kissed you?”
“Yep.”
“Think there’s any chance he actually got a phone call?”
“Nope.”
She nodded, taking it in stride. “Well, we sure have a long way to go.”
That night, the two of us went out to dinner to celebrate Rose’s presentation success before settling down on the floor of the living room with a bottle of wine to start going over the company files on both men. As it turned out, the PR department had rather different files than the regular personnel ones we kept in finance. And, given the expansive scope of the project in question, Rose had been given carte blanche.
We poured through them for hours, taking our time and laughing our asses off at some of the more ridiculous things we stumbled upon. And when I say ridiculous...I mean, Michael.
His file was endless. From newspaper clippings to confrontations with the paparazzi, to his long, long list of conquests. From princesses to pop stars, it was all there. But what was even more telling, was that it was all right there in the open. Is seemed as though he’d never done anything he’d want to hide. His life was an open book. A very...interesting open book.
Tom was a different story.
After nearly three hours searching, I had yet to find a picture of him smiling. While his little brother seemed to live for the limelight, Tom avoided it like the plague—positioning himself in the back of pictures, or better yet, making sure he was the one taking the pictures. His reputation was meticulously cultivated and cared for. There was never a misstep, never the slightest hint of scandal. And while he’d had a few girlfriends over the years, none of them ever lasted more than a few months, and all of them were of the highest pedigree.
It was almost daunting to imagine myself as the unlisted member. How did I compare against the others? Were there other secret women of the group, unlisted like me?
One bottle of wine turned into two.
The jokes got funnier, the laughs got louder. Rose was just starting to create a sketchy timeline when my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out, then quickly shielded it from view when I saw who it was from.
‘No meet-ups and no ride home? What am I supposed to do with myself all day? Work?’
I grinned and held the screen against my chest, but Rose was in her own world, chewing on a pencil as she tried to string together Michael’s many flames.
‘What do you expect? My best friend is just down the hall—you think we can really get away with doing that right under her nose?’
“Jenna! Pour me another glass!”
I slid the bottle her way and laughed aloud as she held up a picture of Michael floating in a zero gravity chamber along with several members of the Rockettes.
‘I perform exceedingly well under pressure. My primary concern is something far greater...’
I bit back a smile and typed as quickly as I could.
‘Oh yes, and what might that be?’
There was hardly a second’s delay.
‘Making you fall in love with me...”
I snorted aloud, then paused, considering his words. My eyes flickered over the stack of photographs in Rose’s lap before I typed again.
‘Like all your other women? Would that include Katherine? Penelope? Imogen?’
This time, the pause was much longer. I could picture him sweating it out on the other side and almost laughed aloud when I finally got his response.
‘...um...’
Thomas Larchwood was never at a loss for words.
“Did you know he’s been married once before?”
I almost dropped the phone. “Tom or Michael?”
The question was too quick, too concerned, and she gave me a strange look before answering, “Michael, of course. In Vegas when he was nineteen. She was almost fifteen years older than him, and he was apparently drunk out of his mind. His father had it annulled.”
My heart started tentatively beating again. I honestly didn’t know how I would feel if Tom had an ex-wife. And that alone, was enough to bring me close to panic. Why did I care? I’d dated guys who had been married before, and it’s not like I was falling for the guy.
Right...?
My fingers flew again over the tiny buttons as I poured another glass for myself. After we made it through the second bottle, Rose and I had switched to whiskey. It might have been a bad idea. Everything was fine and good now, but leave me to stare drunkenly at pictures of Tom’s perfect ex-girlfriends for too long, and things might start to get a little dark.
‘I’m helping Rose put together dossiers on you and Michael. Not going to lie, it’s a little awkward, lol!’
Before he had a chance to answer, I followed it up with:
‘You’ve never been married, right?’
“And in this one, he showed up to a party literally riding on the back of an elephant.” Rose squinted at a dated photo in the dim light. “They had to settle a lawsuit with the City of New York for an estimated four million dollars...”
I went to the kitchen and grabbed the bag of cookies as my phone buzzed against my leg.
“That one I actually knew about,” I said between mouthfuls, “it was for the annual New Year’s party, and according to urban legend, the elephant was a gift from an Indian diplomat.”
Rose raised her eyebrows. “An Indian diplomat?”
I shrugged. “Probably more like an Indian diplomat’s daughter.”
I pulled out the phone.
‘You and Rose have gotten into the whiskey again, haven’t you?’
I grinned, typing away.
‘Jamison and Oreos. My new favorite meal. But you didn’t answer the question...’
“Why isn’t there anything on either of the boys from February to March of 1990?”
I glanced up to see her scribbling furiously on a notepad. “They were staying at Kensington Palace for a month before a royal birth—no press allowed on the grounds.”
‘Wish I was there with you. I have one or two ideas as to how we might occupy our time.’
My cheeks flushed. Either from the whiskey or the texting.
‘Oh yeah? And how might that be...?’
“This is freaking unbelievable...” Rose’s eyes grew wide as she read through a story clipped from the Times. “Did you know he got arrested for riding a motorcycle through the halls of the Met?”
I rolled my eyes. “That sounds like Michael.”
“Not Michael this time—Tom.” She held out the picture. “He’d just turned twenty-one.”
What?! I couldn’t believe it!
I snatched away the photo, unable to imagine in what a dimension Tom would do such a thing. But sure enough, there he was. His dark hair was longer and unkempt, blowing back in the wind as he tore down the steps, chased by police, grinning from ear to ear. The caption read:
‘Billionaire Abe Larchwood’s Eldest Son Raises Hell at the Met’
“Doesn’t really seem like him now, does it?” She munched on a cookie and slipped the photo back in with the rest. “I can’t imagine him even loosening his tie.”
The image of Tom’s back arching against the seat of the limo flashed through my head, and I dropped my eyes quickly to the floor.
“Yeah...me neither...”
The phone buzzed again, and I whipped it out.
‘The first thing I’d do is run my teeth along your neck... I seem to recall you like to be bitten—’
“Who have you been texting this whole time?”
My head snapped up, and I saw Rose staring at me accusingly, all her attention focused on me and my phone. I slipped it quickly back into my purse with an innocent shrug. “Nobody.”
Her eyes flashed mischievously. “Oh my GOSH—you are lying to me right now!”
“No, no I’m not—”
But before I could make my defenses, she was diving for my purse. We came up with it at the same time, but she twisted it away, so I had to let go. A second later, she was holding up the screen, reading dramatically.
“‘Run my teeth along your neck?! I seem to recall you like to be bitten?!’” Her mouth fell open in delight. “Who is this guy?”
“It’s no one you know—give it back!” I made a mad grasp for it, but she held it out of reach, scrolling through my contacts.
“Camden?” She said with a frown. “Who’s Camden?”
I thought Camden had been a rather brilliant idea of mine. It was the name of the town where Tom’s woodland cottage was located, but it could also double as the name of a person. Since I obviously couldn’t program Tom’s name into my phone, I’d thought Camden was a perfect substitution.
“He’s a guy I met,” I muttered sheepishly, trying, and this time succeeding, in yanking the phone from her grasp. “It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal?” She threw up her hands. “Jenna—you never keep secrets from me! Does he live here in town? Can I meet him?”
A feeling like a leaded weight settled in the pit of my stomach, and I got to my feet, hiding my face so she wouldn’t see the lie.
“No, he doesn’t live around here. It’s just stupid flirting.”
“What?!” She put her hands on her hips and grinned. “That is so obviously untrue!”
I hated lying to Rose. More than anything in the world. But not only would she viciously disapprove of a relationship between Tom and me, she could actually get fired for knowing about it without reporting it. I couldn’t ever put her in that position. Even if it meant keeping this to myself. And feeling like crap about it.
“Hey, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning, alright?”
I headed down the hall with a forced cheerful smile. She was still sitting on the floor surrounded by pictures from the real ‘Camden’s’ past. It was unnerving.
“Camden,” she murmured to herself, “sounds Irish.” She raised her voice teasingly. “You know I’m going to find out who he is sooner or later, Jenna! You can’t hide him forever!”
That’s exactly what I was afraid of...