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BRAD AND I AGREED THAT a night spent apart was in order. We didn’t want to rush things and find ourselves right back where we started. He drove back to his place, and I got into my car. It was a toss-up between my apartment and Corey’s, but since I was feeling much better in my own skin, I decided to cut the trip short and just go home.
It had been a few days since I’d watched any television, and though all of my art supplies were in Corey’s garage, I had something much more enticing waiting for me at the apartment: a couch. Donning sweatpants and a sweatshirt, I climbed onto the couch and settled down until I was basically horizontal. Fluffing the pillow beneath me, I allowed the newest Christmas rom-com to transport me to New York City, where a flustered ad executive fell in love with a bus driver.
The next day, I texted Brad to ask him where and when he wanted to meet. Since I was a personal assistant instead of an executive assistant, I wasn’t clear on the work hours. He responded almost instantly, making me think he was probably already at the office.
You can come into Retro at your earliest convenience, he wrote.
I scrunched my nose up at the formality of the message. Sometimes Brad was casual in his language and appearance, but it was equally as likely that he would be uncommonly stuffy. I knew one activity that was guaranteed to get him to let his hair down, but that would have to wait until later.
Dressing smartly, I got in my car and drove into the city. Parking in the garage, I spied Brad’s car in the executive section. Just as I suspected, he was there early. It didn’t seem to matter that he no longer held much responsibility where the company was concerned. His habits remained the same.
I walked through the lobby and showed my temporary badge to the guard. It was a dance that we had to do every day, no matter how many conversations we had. He knew me by name, and I knew him well enough to ask about his holiday plans.
“Are you done shopping?” I asked.
“Never,” he said with a laugh. “The kids are constantly coming up with new toys they want.”
“Don’t I know it,” I responded, even though I had relatively little idea what it was like shopping for young children at Christmas. Sure, Chloe and Cassie needed presents, but I wasn’t their primary caretaker. Anything I got them was a bonus; anything their parents forgot was likely to cause a tantrum.
“Have a good day,” the guard said as I got on the elevator.
I rode up to Brad’s temporary office alone, crossing the hall to find him relaxing behind his cardboard cutout of a desk. One foot was crossed over the opposite knee, and he was missing a tie. His shirt was open at the collar, and the suit jacket he wore gaped in the front, nearly pushed up and over his shoulders.
The image was stunning. I had never been so attracted to him. He looked more like the leader of the company than he ever had before, so rich that he didn’t give a fuck. I approached him like a moth drawn to a flame, setting my purse down before I dropped it.
“Hey,” he responded, “I have to go.”
I realized he was on a video call with someone. Even more intriguing, since he didn’t seem bothered by his own appearance. He snapped the laptop shut and gave me his full attention. The smile that spread across his face was golden. It took me several deep breaths to get my libido under control.
“How are you?” he asked, shifting in his seat to put both feet on the floor.
“Good,” I managed. “You look comfortable.”
“Oh.” He glanced down at his wardrobe, affecting a carefree shrug. “I’m happy.”
“I’m so glad,” I said, taking a seat opposite him. “You deserve it.”
He gave me a meaningful look, and I felt my heart flutter. “I hope you’re happy too.”
“I am,” I assured him.
“Great.” He looked down at the surface of the desk, hunting with his eyes until he came across a stack of folders. “I’m just getting some things ready for Tony Silvano, the new owner.”
“Of course.” I reached for the folders in question.
“Pull out everything that has to do with the company’s finances,” Brad instructed.
I got started, leafing through some poorly organized paperwork while he pulled out his phone. He made a few calls, most of which seemed to be to friends who were also business associates. It felt very domestic, working together in the shared space. Thoughts of jumping his bones faded from my mind, replaced with a deep contentment. The dual failures of my time at Annie’s gallery and Nikki’s lawsuit didn’t seem so important anymore. The future looked bright, and I was looking forward to celebrating Christmas with my newfound love.
“Will you order lunch for the staff?” Brad asked suddenly, hanging up from his third and final call.
“Sure,” I answered, setting the files aside. “What do you want?”
“Something that everyone will appreciate. Maybe sandwiches from the deli.” He stood up, bending down to kiss the top of my head. “I’m going into a meeting with Silvano.”
“Okay,” I replied.
He pulled a credit card out of his wallet and laid it on the desk in front of me. I recognized it as his personal card, which meant a great deal. He trusted me with a direct line to his bank account, and he was going to foot the bill himself rather than charging it to the company. I pulled out my phone to call the deli, putting in an order for sandwiches of every kind.
They needed two hours to pull the order together, since it was so large. I paid over the phone and arranged for the delivery drivers to bring it up to the conference room. Afterward, I sent an email to the staff workgroup to let them know that lunch was on us, so they wouldn’t make other plans.
I was just getting back into the organizational task when there was a knock on the door. I thought it was open, so I looked up to check. It was indeed open, but the person in question had knocked on the adjacent wall to get my attention. I smiled automatically, the joy in my heart spilling over to every random interaction. But when I recognized who it was, the feeling dried up. I had to fight to keep the smile in place when what I really wanted to do was stand up and slam the door in her face.
It was Alyssa, daughter of Nick Pierce and Brad’s old girlfriend. I thought she lived in Paris. She had been there when we visited on our first and only overseas trip together. She’d interrupted our evening at the Louvre to fawn all over Brad and try to coax him away from me. I was ninety five percent certain that he wasn’t interested in her anymore, but there was a nagging kernel of doubt that poisoned my mind.
The woman was gorgeous. Balanced on four-inch high heels, she wore a pantsuit that made her look more like a model than a businesswoman. Her hair was perfect, her makeup flawless. When she spoke, her voice was angelic, and I couldn’t imagine any red-blooded man passing up an opportunity to be with her.
We hadn’t really talked about prior relationships, though I knew that Alyssa had hurt Brad by running off to France when he wanted to settle down. I hoped that was enough to sour him on her for the long run. Things were going so well between us; the last thing I needed was the one who got away from him to worm her way back into his life.
“Teddy, isn’t it?” Alyssa said, pointing a manicured finger at me.
“That’s right,” I said, standing up. “Alyssa.”
“Are you still Brad’s assistant?” The words were delivered perfectly, seemingly chipper but with a core of insincerity that was evident.
“Yes,” I answered, leaving out all the bits in between when Brad and I hadn’t been speaking. “He’s in a meeting.”
“Will you tell him I stopped by?” she asked sweetly.
“Of course,” I responded automatically.
“Thanks,” she said, giving me a predator’s smile.
I watched her turn and walk away, wondering how she had managed to get in the building in the first place. How had she found Brad’s new office? Who did she have to charm to get permission to walk around unescorted?
It took a long time for the creepiness of Alyssa’s visit to wear off. I was still feeling tense when Brad walked back in. He didn’t notice at first, offering me half a turkey sandwich on a paper plate.
“Lunch is here,” he announced. “Thanks for that.”
I stared at the food as if it were an alien artifact, glancing up at Brad as he took his seat. He reached for the laptop automatically, not bothering to check in with me until he was halfway into his next task. But as soon as our eyes met, he could see that something was wrong.
“What happened?” he asked, suddenly concerned.
“Alyssa Pierce stopped by,” I said dryly.
Brad frowned. I had been hoping for some kind of vitriol, a dramatic pronouncement of his disgust for the woman. Nikki and I had broken into Retro’s offices and suffered legal consequences. Shouldn’t Alyssa’s intrusion warrant a little bit more than a lowered eyebrow? I held my breath, waiting for Brad to assimilate the information.
“I wonder how she got in,” he finally said.
“I don’t know,” I replied, searching his face for clues. Was he trying to mask any amount of excitement over the prospect of seeing her again? Did he still hold a torch for her, or had it burned out a long time ago as he’d previously claimed?
“What did she want?” Brad asked, still refusing to get overly upset.
“I don’t know,” I said again. “But I don’t think it’s smart to talk to her without your lawyer.”
“Good thought,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone.
All the tension within me relaxed as I watched him hunt for his lawyer’s contact number. He wouldn’t be calling for legal help if he secretly wanted to talk to Alyssa alone. He would make up some excuse about how he could handle things, and make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. By following my advice and erecting a formal barrier between them, he proved that he wasn’t interested in her any more. She might not be as offensive to him as she was to me, but he clearly wasn’t fooled.
“Hey,” Brad said into the phone, holding my gaze as he relayed the situation to his attorney. “Alyssa Pierce showed up here without an appointment. I don’t know. She said she wants to talk to me.”
I waited a heartbeat while the lawyer said something, and then smiled inwardly hearing Brad’s response.
“I agree. Sure. Thanks for doing this on such short notice.” He hung up and reported back to me. “I’m going to call her now, but my attorney agrees with you. He’ll be there wherever and whenever Alyssa wants to meet.”
I swallowed carefully, trying not to look like I was upset. It was a relief to have both Brad and his attorney on my side, but I still didn’t trust Alyssa. I wouldn’t put it past her to make suggestive comments even in the presence of a third party. She certainly hadn’t hidden her distain for me, obviously considering me to be a lower life form.
I held my breath as Brad dialed a phone number that was obviously in his contacts. I don’t know why that bothered me, except that it did. I knew they had been together at one point, but the fact that he kept her number seemed to confirm all the self-doubts that were rattling around in my brain.
“Hello,” Brad said in a monotone. It was small comfort that he was being less than cordial with her. I was struggling with my irrational brain, telling it that Brad was mine and I didn’t have to worry about Alyssa. But no matter what I did or said, there was still that deep-seated desire to watch him hang her out to dry. “I understand you stopped by.”
He paused for a moment, looking up at me. I met his eyes, and suddenly we were on the call together. As if understanding what I was going through, he pulled the phone away and pressed speaker.
“Yes, I had the pleasure of running into your little assistant,” Alyssa said.
“What do you want?” Brad cut through all the pleasantries, if that’s what they could be called.
“I want to talk to you.” She sounded hurt.
“I’m only going to talk with my lawyer present,” he said.
“Okay,” she agreed. “But I’m flying home in the morning, so it has to be tonight.”
“All right,” he allowed. “My office?”
Alyssa’s voice changed tone, and I could almost see her flipping her hair at the other end of the line. “Let’s not be enemies. Have dinner with me.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass.” Brad shot her down.
I put my hand over his, lowering the phone so that I could whisper freely. “Maybe you should just go ahead and meet with her.”
Brad raised his eyebrows, concerned with the optics of going to dinner with his ex. Are you sure? he mouthed.
I nodded.
“All right,” Brad decided. “I’ll meet you for dinner, but it’s not a date.”
“Of course not,” she replied hastily. “What about the Green Room?”
“I don’t have a reservation,” Brad replied.
“When has that ever stopped you before?” she purred.
Brad rolled his eyes, and I nearly laughed out loud. He wasn’t being taken in by her ego stroking. He didn’t care about her anymore. I was the one he was sharing the phone call with, and I didn’t have to worry about his loyalties.
“Seven,” Brad replied, hanging up before she could attempt any more tricks.
We looked at each other for a moment before I said, “Should I make a reservation at the Green Room?” I didn’t even know how I was going to do that. Brad’s name probably opened some doors, but it was the most exclusive restaurant in town.
“No,” he replied. “We’ll sit at the bar. I don’t have a lot to say to her.”
It warmed my heart to hear frustration dripping from his words. He wasn’t looking forward to the evening at all, and that was perfect for my purposes. Brad called his lawyer back and told him where to be. After that drama, it was difficult to get back to work, but there was a lot to be done and not much time to do it.
