by Emily Mayer
Everything Girl
Emily Mayer
Copyright © 2019 Emily Mayer
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from this author, except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental or fictionalized.
Edited by Elayne Morgan of Serenity Editing Services.
www.emilymayerbooks.com
For my Mom and Dad who always told me I could. And for Ryan who made me believe it. I love you.
1.
I sipped my second cup of coffee at my desk, dividing my attention between a newspaper article that was supposed to run in the Tribune next week and my boss, Ben, who was in the middle of a very heated argument. I watched as Ben resumed pacing, making sure he wasn’t facing my desk, before my gaze drifted back to the article. My eyes landed on a picture of Ben leaving a hotel with Mrs. Slater, the wife of a city commissioner. At three p.m. On a Tuesday. I cringed at the next picture of the two locked in an embrace that was nowhere near close to professional. Leaning forward, I tried to locate Ben’s hands in the second picture. It was like a skeevy Where’s Waldo?
“Evelyn, my office!”
“Shit,” I hissed. Ben’s voice had startled me, causing me to jump and sending hot coffee onto my hand. I shook off the scalding hot liquid before grabbing my tablet with my non-coffee-burnt hand, then made my way into Ben’s office.
He sat behind his desk with his back to me, staring out the large windows that overlooked downtown Chicago.
“Ben, what’s going on?” I asked tentatively, sliding into a chair.
He swiveled around, let loose a sigh, and scrubbed both hands down his face.
“You’ve seen the new article the Tribune is running next week?”
The original article was supposed to be part of their 40 Under 40 series, in which they featured forty of Chicago’s most influential citizens under the age of forty. Unfortunately, a photographer from the Tribune had spotted Ben with the commissioner’s wife and the story had changed direction.
“I did. It’s… not great.” I offered, unhelpfully.
“Yeah, well the board agrees with you.” He sighed. “They want me gone before the article is released.”
I sat up straight in my chair. “Gone? What does that mean, exactly?”
“They want me to lay low until this whole thing blows over. They’re worried about what this ‘scandal’ will do to our stock prices.” His voice held a note of defeat I didn’t like. This was the same man who had negotiated multi-million-dollar contracts without breaking a sweat. He had been described as cunning and ruthless, both in his professional and personal life. Ben practically grew up following his uncle around the boardroom. I doubted anyone knew this company as well as him.
“So what are you going to do?” I asked, watching as he picked up a pen to twirl between his fingers.
“I’m going to lay low—for now.” He sighed, eyes focused on the pen. “It’s important that the board of directors and our shareholders don’t lose confidence in me.”
“How are you planning to ‘lay low’?” I asked.
“I’m going to Montana,” Ben responded, finally dropping the pen back to his desk and looking at me.
“I’m sorry—did you say Montana?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard him correctly. “Did you mean London?”
“No, I said Montana,” he confirmed, one of his eyebrows winging up.
“Montana,” I repeated. “The state?”
“Yes, Evelyn. The state of Montana. You know, the place where I spent my childhood. Where Pinehaven Ranch has been located for the past hundred years.” He spoke slowly, like I was a very small child who didn’t fully understand English yet.
I did, in fact,I know that Ben’s family owned a ranch in Montana, courtesy of the article. The Danver family had started out as small-time ranchers way back in the mid 1800s. By the time Robert Danver took over the ranch in the early 1900s, he was inheriting one of the largest working ranches in the western United States. He also had the good luck of finding an oil field on their ever-expanding property. While the oil well hadn’t been enough to give them oil-money status, Robert thought it would be wise to invest his money in something other than cattle. He’d traveled to Chicago to meet with a finance guy at Sterling & Sterling and happened to meet Laura Sterling, the daughter of the owner. The two married less than a month later and the Danver-Sterling dynasty was created.
“Wow, Montana. That’s…” I cleared my throat, trying to come up with the right adjective. “A big state.”
He shrugged. “I’m overdue for a visit anyway.”
“Okay, and how long are you planning on visiting?” I asked, glad I’d grabbed my tablet.
“A month?” His statement came out sounding like a question. “And I’d like you to come with me. I have no intention of stepping down from Sterling despite whatever bullshit the Tribune is peddling, so your legal background might be helpful if anything comes up while I’m there. Think of it as a working vacation.”
I fought the urge to point out that the story wasn’t exactly bullshit but the concept of a working vacation was. “You want me to go to Montana for a month?”
“Don’t say I never take you anywhere nice.” Ben said, a trace of his normal confidence resurfacing. “Pinehaven is still a working ranch. We’re in the process of acquiring a piece of land adjacent to the current property. Then there’s federal contracts for grazing on federally-owned land that need to be reviewed, contracts with beef wholesalers—and I’ll make it more than worth your while.”
My mind reeled. This man knew my weaknesses. Contracts and money. Not that I was greedy—I would be perfectly happy as long as I could pay my law school loans and afford a latte every day.
I pulled out my phone to scroll through my calendar. It was wide open. Wide, wide open. Much like I pictured Montana.
“I guess I could make that work,” I said unconvincingly. “But wouldn’t you rather hide in Paris? Or on a warm island with a beach?”
“I’m not hiding. I’m laying low,” Ben grumbled. “I’ll give you until the end of the day to make a decision. And I’ll need you to rearrange my schedule for the next month regardless of what you decide.”
I made my way back to my desk, making a list of things I would need to get done before the end of the day. My email icon dinged and when I saw my name in the subject line of the newest email, I opened it right away. It was from Ben to HR and the board. He was informing them of his travel plans and requesting appropriate compensation for his executive assistant, who would ideally be making the trip with him. My eyes widened almost comically when I saw the amount he was approving for my time.
An executive assistant wasn’t my dream job. In fact, if you had told me a year ago that I would soon be an executive assistant, I would have said you were crazy. I wasn’t a total snob—there was absolutely nothing wrong with being an executive assistant. They were some of the hardest working people here. But I had meticulously planned my career trajectory the minute I received my acceptance letter to law school. In truth, I had been planning for my career practically from childhood. While my sisters wanted to play house, I wanted to play work, so I was often cast as the reluctant husband in exchange for my sisters’ participation as my employees.
Everything had gone perfectly according to my plans. At least for a while. I’d landed a coveted internship my first year of school, made law review my second
year and graduated at the top of my class. When I was chosen from a pool of highly-qualified candidates for an associate position in Sterling & Sterling’s legal department, I felt unstoppable. All my carefully made plans were finally coming to fruition. Even the long hours in a tiny cubicle devoid of anything that would inspire happiness didn’t faze me. I faced it all with a sense of contentment, knowing it was just the next step in my plan. Another box to be checked.
It took a year of missed birthdays, holidays, and weddings spent tucked away in my cubicle for me to realize I absolutely hated the life I had so carefully planned. The realization left me feeling totally adrift. I had no contingency plan. I was a planner by nature. I made lists, I planned, I organized. Nothing made me happier than checking items off lists. Planning made me feel like the world could be neatly organized, like everything had its place and was manageable. I had been so completely focused on this one goal that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I might need a backup plan. Planners did not fail! And this felt like the ultimate failure.
When the opportunity to become an executive assistant to the CEO came my way, I shoved aside my pride and plans, and took the position. It hadn’t been a bad year either. I was making more than I did as a new attorney—which was incredibly depressing—and Ben was a really good boss. I actually got to see my family, and sunshine. I had even added a couple of stamps to my passport. As I looked at the number in that email one more time, just to make sure it was real, I accepted the fact that I was about to add a trip to Montana to my list of new experiences.
2.
I spent most of the morning and early afternoon frantically trying to rearrange Ben’s schedule and making to-do lists. I also felt compelled to search for Pinehaven Ranch on the internet, just to reassure myself it had indoor plumbing. My knowledge of working ranches was limited to the reruns of Bonanza that my grandpa liked to nap to in the afternoons.
It wasn’t until almost three in the afternoon that I finally felt like I had made enough headway to break for lunch. I peered into the refrigerator, digging for yesterday’s lunch-meeting leftovers, which I had shoved somewhere toward the back. Somehow I never managed to actually eat any lunch at lunch meetings. They should have been called anti-lunch meetings, or “see how long you can sit in a group with very serious professionals before your stomach makes loud noises that resemble whales mating” meetings.
Finally I spotted the carton of chicken fried rice with my name on it. "Aha!"
“Evelyn!” An excited voice I recognized as belonging to my friend Anna had me abandoning my search for the yogurt I remembered stashing in the fridge at some point.
I straightened, smiling, to see two of my friends from the office standing in the kitchen’s entryway. Anna and Hilari were executive assistants to two of the vice presidents who worked on the same floor. The two women had taken me under their wing when it had become obvious that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing as an assistant. Seven years of school and I was suddenly totally useless. The experience had been humbling, to say the least.
I was as grateful for their friendship as I was for their help. We often worked the same long hours, and sometimes went out for dinner or drinks after we left the office. Anna and Hilari were also my go-to for all the office gossip. Nothing escaped them. I had yet to discover their sources.
“Is it true you’re going to Montana with Ben?” Hilari asked, sitting down at the small table closest to the window. See what I mean?
“It’s true. I had no idea Ben grew up in Montana until I read that stupid article. I mean I knew the Danver family started out in ranching, but I don’t think I realized Ben was raised on the ranch. It’s almost impossible to imagine Ben growing up on a ranch, isn’t it?” I asked, taking an empty seat at the table.
“Impossible,” Anna agreed. “But more importantly, you’re going to get to meet his brother!”
"Why do you sound so excited about that?" I asked, shoveling a large forkful of fried rice into my mouth.
"Seriously, Evelyn? Where have you been? Please tell me you’re joking," Hilari exclaimed, her large blue eyes widening with astonishment.
I only shrugged. To be completely honest, I was much more interested in the fried rice than in hearing about Ben's brother. I shoveled another large bite into my mouth, knowing they didn't need my encouragement to continue.
“Well, you know Ben has a brother, right?” Hilari asked. I nodded my head yes. I was, in fact, vaguely aware that Ben had a brother.
“And about his days on the circuit?” Hilari prompted.
“Circuit?” I questioned around a mouthful of rice. The only circuits I was familiar with were court circuits, and judging by the context clues, that was not what we were talking about here. Nobody gets excited about court circuits.
“Do you know anything about Ben’s family? Anything at all? I don’t know how you missed this. I love you, Evelyn, and I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but you need to pull your head out of the books a little more.” Hilari said, rolling her eyes dramatically.
“She missed the last time Jack was here, Hil!” Anna turned to me and continued. “We didn’t know anything about him either until he came into the office, which he almost never does. Anyway, Jack—that’s his brother’s name—was huge on the rodeo circuit five or so years ago. He won everything. He was really amazing. And ridiculously hot. Naturally, he was a real ladies’ man, so it wasn’t super surprising when he got engaged to Leigh Decker. They looked perfect together. Supposedly he was going to retire after the national championships but he got injured really badly during his ride. He was tossed off the bull and trampled. It was so awful I couldn’t even watch the video. I don’t know how he survived, really,” Anna said. Hilari was nodding in agreement.
“Okay,” I said, waving Anna on with my fork, “is that it? Hot cowboy with a supermodel fiancée who gets injured?”
“What, is that not enough for you?” Anna threw her hands up, frustrated by my lack of enthusiasm.
“Then, at some point during his recovery,” Hilari said, “model fiancée breaks off the engagement. Jack kind of turns into a real manwhore. He was spotted with a different girl basically every week, and then he just disappeared.” She gave a dramatic poof of her hands.
“Disappeared? What does that even mean?” I asked skeptically. “Is he missing? I think Ben would have at least mentioned having a missing brother.”
“No, he isn’t missing,” Anna huffed, “he just totally disappeared from the spotlight. Every once in a while a tabloid will run a sighting of him somewhere or try to pair him up with a woman, but it’s always at a ranch function. His fiancée probably destroyed him.”
“He’s at the ranch all the time then?” I asked.
“Well, yeah, he runs the ranch now. He never went back to riding in rodeos after his accident,” Anna said.
“Great. Stuck in the middle of nowhere with two disgruntled Danvers. This just keeps getting better and better,” I said, dropping my head into my hand with a sigh.
“You’re thinking about this all wrong! You’re going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with one of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. How is that a bad thing? I mean, what are the odds that Montana is swarming with attractive women?” Hilari said.
“Oh sure, I’ll show up and he’ll suddenly realize that he had it all wrong with the leggy, beautiful blondes—short brunettes are actually his type,” I responded.
“Variety is the spice of life,” Anna pointed out optimistically.
They spent the rest of lunch trying to convince me that the prospect of spending any amount of time on a ranch with an unhappy Ben and his reclusive, possibly also unhappy, brother was much more exciting than it sounded.
3.
By the time I made it back to my tiny apartment, I had to stumble through the dark to find the light switch. Fall had officially found Chicago, and the sun was setting earlier and earlier. Fall was my absolute favorite season, since Christmas
didn’t technically count as a season, but I did start to miss the sunshine. It felt like I left for work in the dark and came back home in the dark.
I slumped down on the couch and kicked off my shoes. Closing my eyes in relief, I nestled deeper into the cushions. The bedroom was less than ten feet away, but it seemed like an impossible task to drag myself the extra few steps when the couch was so comfortable and so right here.
A series of loud buzzes woke me and I reflexively swung my arm out, expecting to find my phone in its usual spot on my nightstand. When my hand found the television remote, I groaned, remembering I was on the couch and my phone was still in my bag by the door. I groggily made my way to my bag and dug around for the offending phone. I smiled when I saw the messages were all from my sisters.
My sister Corinne had messaged, Celeste was exhausted from her play date at the pool. She passed out at 7! Date in 30?
Yes! See you ladies in 30, Elise had responded.
I smiled as I typed my response. I’m in too!
The three of us seized every opportunity to video chat with each other. After Corinne had Celeste, it had become increasingly difficult to find time to talk face to face. Celeste was three and a half and a handful, but my sister loved every single crazy moment. It had always been Corinne's dream to have a family—she had mothered Elise and me pretty much since birth. Corinne had started dating a surgeon when he was still in medical school. They had dated for years before Corinne learned he had been having an affair with another surgeon for most of their relationship. She had been completely devastated, and Elise and I had felt totally helpless watching Corinne piece her life back together after the breakup. She was the oldest of the Mercer girls and we were used to her telling us what to do, not the other way around.
After the nasty breakup, Corinne had announced she would never date another doctor, because they were all womanizing narcissists. So when she announced that she was dating a pediatrician and she really liked him, we had all been shocked. If I’m being honest, I’d been a little surprised when Corinne first introduced Ted. On the surface, Ted seemed to be the exact opposite of Corinne in every way. His dark features stood in stark contrast to Corinne’s honey blond hair and pale blue eyes. Ted wore horn-rimmed glasses and a bow tie most days, while Corinne always looked like she’d just stepped off a runway. She turned heads even now, at six months pregnant with a toddler in tow.
