by Emily Mayer
What the… what? Jack was worried I was uncomfortable? My brain was struggling to absorb all the information Ben had just unloaded on me. The same man who regularly made me feel uncomfortable—worse than uncomfortable—was worried I was being manhandled. It was much more likely that Jack was just uncomfortable watching Rodney paw at me. There was no way he was concerned about my well-being. Was there?
"Evelyn? Are you still with me?" Ben's voice startled me out of my thoughts.
"Oh yeah—sorry. I definitely wouldn't say I’m comfortable around him, but he hasn't really crossed any lines." I shrugged. Realizing I was probably minimizing the situation to end this conversation, I added, "It might be a good idea to remind him about how damaging a sexual harassment lawsuit could be for him personally, though, and probably how sexual harassment is defined. I think all the women in his life would appreciate that."
"Yes. I can absolutely do that.” He paused like he was debating something with himself. “I need to have a serious talk about personal boundaries with him. I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t and he was out there terrorizing you or the rest of our female employees. But, if he crosses a line or you’ve just had enough, tell me. I would never fire you for telling me something like that—you know that, right?"
"Of course I do! I promise I would have said something to you if I was upset." The same voice that had chastised me for minimizing the situation also questioned whether that was a true statement.
"Well, I know I need a drink. Let's call it a day. You want a beer before dinner? I think Margot and Letty should be here soon."
Ben stood and walked toward the door, waiting for me to follow.
"I'll just pack all this up and meet you in the kitchen. I hate leaving a mess." I scrunched my nose, looking around at the papers scattered about the desk.
Ben laughed. "Of course." He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slowly. "I'll have a beer waiting for you when you're done being your neurotic self."
"There is nothing crazy about wanting to be organized!" I yelled at his retreating back.
"Whatever you say, Evelyn, whatever you say."
I organized the papers scattered around the desk and placed them in stacks or folders. After packing up my laptop and notebooks, I made a quick stop in my room to drop off my stuff before heading toward the kitchen.
The sounds of male laughter echoed through the hallway and I smiled at the now-familiar sounds. All the guys were seated around the table, talking with beers in hand. Mary was in her usual spot in front of the stove.
"Mom, what do you need help with? You've been in front of that stove all afternoon," Ben asked from his spot.
"I appreciate the offer, Benjamin, but I like my food edible." Her comment earned a round of laughter from the men gathered at the table.
"I'm not a very good cook,” I said, moving away from the entrance to make my appearance known. "But I can set the table and chop things. I also stir. Mostly things I microwaved, but I’m pretty sure that still counts."
"Hello, Evelyn—I didn't see you come in. How are you feeling?"
I moved to stand next to her at the stove, leaning my hip against the counter. "Good! My muscles may never forgive me, but they’re starting to feel less angry. It could be all the ibuprofen talking, though."
She smiled sympathetically, turning away from the pan she was frying chicken in to look me over.
"I thought you were hobbling a little bit when you came in. Why don't you just sit down and relax?"
"No, really, I don't mind standing. I’ve been sitting all day, and it feels really good to stretch a little. I’m sure there’s something I could help you with."
I prayed she wouldn't ask me to help with the cooking. Saying I wasn't a very good cook was an understatement. I had burnt a pancake beyond recognition. Literally. I sent the picture of the smoking disc to my sisters, and they couldn't tell it was supposed to be a pancake. I thought the spatula melted to it would have been a dead giveaway.
My mom had insisted all of us learn to cook, growing up. It was my least favorite life lesson. Both my sisters were great cooks; Corinne was beyond amazing in the kitchen. I was a total disaster—so bad that my dad confessed he was eating before he came home the nights it was my turn to make dinner. The sad part was, I was more upset that he wasn't bringing me any of the food he was sneaking than I was about the fact that he thought my cooking was so bad.
"You can set the table if you wouldn't mind. Everything’s already out." Mary pointed to the stack of dishes on the counter with her tongs.
"I can do that,” I replied, picking up the stack of plates and heading toward the table.
I immediately realized my mistake. Setting the table would mean placing a plate in front of the people already sitting there. As in, Rodney and Jack. Those were two close encounters I could do without.
My feet started to drag, prolonging the inevitable. I decided to just rip the Band-Aid off and get the worst over with first. I stepped next to Rodney, making sure to stand just out of his reach. Reaching forward with the plate in my hand, I tried to set the plate in front of him while angling my body away from him at the same time. The plate fell to the table with a clatter.
"Sorry about that; it slipped right out of my hand,” I lied.
Trying to dodge Rodney's hand, which had started to travel in my direction as soon as the plate hit the table, I moved quicker than my sore muscles could handle, sending my hip crashing into a corner of the table. I winced. A warm pressure settled over the spot on my hip that had just been rudely introduced to the table. Strong fingertips rubbed a slow circle over the sore spot. I could feel the heat of his hand through my clothes. Turning my head just slightly, I set the plate down—much more gently this time—in front of Jack, fully aware my cheeks were a shade of red that could lead Santa's sleigh through a snowstorm. Jack moved his eyes from the hip he was still holding to meet mine. I gave him an unsteady smile.
"Thanks,” I mumbled before moving quickly to my right, forcing his hand to release my hip. I set the next plate in front of Sam, nodding when he thanked me, careful to avoid looking at Jack. I could feel his eyes still on me.
The front door crashed open, almost making me drop the rest of the pile. Tiny footsteps were followed by an excited squeal.
"Uncle Jack!"
A little girl with a stuffed unicorn clutched under one arm ran as fast as her legs could carry her toward Jack. He had turned his body completely away from the table and bent with outstretched arms ready to catch the girl hurtling his way. Scooping her up, he smiled the warmest smile I had ever seen. The kind of smile that crinkles the corner of your eyes. A smile I had not thought this man was even capable of making.
"How's my best girl? Are you feeling better?" said this strange new version of the man I knew as he kissed the top of her strawberry-blond, pigtailed head.
"Mmmhmm." She nodded her head and held up the unicorn to Jack, who bent down and kissed its horned head like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he had done it a hundred times before.
And I just stood there watching this interaction, plates in hand, confusion radiating off me. I felt like I had entered into some sort of alternate universe instead of the kitchen minutes earlier. Who was this person who had done nothing but scowl or snap at me unnecessarily? Why was I suddenly so jealous of a stuffed unicorn? Jack-without-a-scowl did something to my insides I was not prepared for—not prepared for at all.
"Am I going to get a plate or am I eating dinner off the table?" Gabe asked me.
I tore my eyes away from the pair to shoot Gabe some side-eye. The look he gave me made me seriously concerned that he knew exactly what was going on inside my head.
I was saved when a woman walked through the door carrying a covered tray and asked, "Letty, did you take your shoes off before running through Grandma Mary's kitchen?"
Letty looked up at Jack and then down at her shoe-covered feet. Gabe spun quickly to his right and slid both shoes o
ff her feet, winking conspiratorially at Letty. The smile she gave him could only be described as adoring. Even little girls were not immune to the man.
"Yes." Letty drew out the word, continuing to gaze at Gabe.
The woman I assumed was Margot gave Letty a skeptical look. She moved to give Mary a hug, smiling at Cole as he walked through the door. "Your daughter is a liar."
"No!" Letty's word dissolved into giggles as Jack stood, scooping her up into a little ball. He handed her to Cole and pulled Margot into a hug.
"Hey, Go."
He kissed the top of her head affectionately. I moved like a robot, dropping plates into spots while my eyes stayed glued to what was happening across the kitchen. Margot returned the hug like this was a regular thing, like someone who had not been on the receiving end of scowls and biting remarks. What the hell? It couldn’t be any clearer. Jack just didn't like me. Not other people. Not women in general. Not city people. Me.
"Hey, yourself. I missed your ugly mug this week,” Margot said, returning his hug easily. "Ben, it's so good to see you! I'm sorry we couldn't make it up here sooner."
This was Ben's cue to get up and exchange hugs. Letty peered at him shyly from her dad's arms as Ben tried to convince her that she really did remember her favorite uncle. Was there any woman who could blame me for swooning over this scene? I was having a hard time accepting this was real life. And not panting.
I finished setting the table, trying to avoid being remembered for as long as possible. I was never great at big crowds or being the odd one out. My quietness worked against me, and on more than one occasion I’d been accused of coming off as cold or unfriendly. Networking was my worst nightmare. I tried to remind myself that I knew everyone in the room; I would even consider Gabe and Cole friends. I spent an obscene amount of time with Ben on a regular basis, and Mary and Sam were probably two of the nicest humans on Earth. This was fine. Everything was fine.
"Margot, this is a business associate from Chicago, Rodney." Rodney moved to shake Margot's hand at the introduction, and Cole suddenly appeared at his wife's side, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. Ben introduced Letty, who buried her head in her dad's neck. Girl was a good judge of character already. I braced myself, knowing what came next.
"And this…" Ben said, motioning me forward. I moved to stand next to him, reminding myself to try to look friendly. "…is my executive assistant, Evelyn. She basically runs the show at this point."
Rodney felt the need to emphasize this by placing his hand on my back and announcing, "We’re all glad Ben found Evelyn."
Catching me off-guard, Margot pulled me into a hug. "I’m so glad I finally get to meet you!"
As soon as she released me, before I could even answer, Jack took my elbow and moved me to stand next to him. He was giving Rodney a look that was alarmingly similar to the scowls I had been the recipient of so many times. I must have looked as startled as I felt, because Margot felt the need to apologize.
"Sorry, I’m a hugger!"
Panic was starting to take root in the pit of my stomach. I didn't want to seem unfriendly—I already liked Margot. My confusion had nothing to do with her hug.
"I don't mind. I come from a big family of huggers, so I'm totally used to hugs." I gave her a genuine smile, feeling reassured by her open, warm expression. "It's really nice to meet you, too."
"All right, everyone, dinner's ready. I made your favorite, Letty-Lou,” Mary announced. Letty hopped out of Cole's arms and reached for Mary's hand.
It took me almost a full minute to realize I was the only one not making my way towards the table. New Jack had left me a little stunned and a whole lot of confused.
16.
Dinner was loud and filled with laughter. It was so much like family dinners from when I was growing up that I was more than a little overwhelmed by nostalgia. I had managed to snag a seat next to Margot and Letty, who spent all of dinner telling me about Sparkle, her unicorn, and chatting about all the things two-almost-three-year-olds find interesting. Margot managed to sneak in a few questions about Chicago or how I was liking Montana so far. Every once in a while, I would feel eyes on me and look up to find Jack watching me, that neutral expression firmly in place. I would look away quickly, feeling my neck heat, and return my attention to Letty.
After dinner, the boys moved to the porch with fresh drinks, talking all things ranch. Letty trailed behind them while Margot and I helped Mary clean up from dinner. The conversation between us was easy and comfortable. When the last dish was dried and put away, Margot turned to me and asked if I wanted to take a walk with her. We wandered past the boys, who were making their way toward one of the barns, Letty holding Ben's hand. Margot followed my eyes.
"So, you and Ben… you're really not sleeping together?" She slapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes going wide. "I am so sorry! I don't know what's gotten into me. I blame being pregnant. These hormones are already making me crazy."
I laughed, waving my hands in the universal sign for it’s fine.
"Don't worry about it! No, we’re not sleeping together, and we never have. But I have eyes that work just fine."
"I know, right? I never thought I’d be such a sucker for seeing men with kids, but ever since we had Letty, it's ridiculous. It's pretty much how we got baby number two." Margot glanced back toward the group, sighing. "Ben is really good-looking, isn't he? I didn't really believe you all weren't sleeping together."
"Those good looks are what get him into so much trouble." I shrugged. "I was basically approved as a hire by the board of directors because they didn't think Ben would sleep with me. Kind of a blow to my self-esteem, but it paid really well and there was lots of traveling so I got over it. We just never had that kind of connection. I mean, he's a really great guy, if he isn't sleeping with you, but—I don't know, he feels more like my older brother. I know that sounds so weird, since he is my boss and all, but it's true."
"I think you might be the first woman on earth able to resist one of the Danver brothers' charm. I never thought I'd see the day."
"You seemed to manage it okay,” I pointed out.
Margot smiled, placing a hand on the small bump that was just starting to peek through. She was one of those people who just seemed to shine a natural light wherever they went. Her blue eyes sparkled with warmth, luring you in, making you feel instantly at ease.
"Have you seen my husband? I might be biased but I think he holds his own against those Danvers."
"Can I… um… agree with you? I don't know what the rules are about that, but I think it would be pretty obvious I was lying if I didn't agree, right?"
"Girl, yes! And when that man puts on his cowboy hat…" Margot's voice trailed off, a wistful look on her face.
"You get baby number one?" I finished for her. She laughed, nodding her head. "I used to think there was nothing better than a guy in a well-tailored suit, but this place is making me question that. I mean, there's gotta be something in the water here. They could open the ranch to tours and it would be overrun with women as soon as word spread. I’m not even kidding."
Margot reached over and squeezed my arm.
"I’m so glad you're not awful! I thought you were going to be like all the other women Ben has dragged out here—like talking to a stick with hair. I was so excited to meet you after Cole told me about you. You’re just as great as he said you are."
My cheeks warmed at her compliment. It was probably more than a little pathetic how pleased I was to hear that Cole had told Margot I was great. But it is what it is, and I was so happy that I couldn't contain the smile that spread across my face.
"Thanks. I was pretty excited to meet you too. Most of the guys here have been really great, but it's nice to have someone to talk to about how good they look in those jeans. I don't think Ben would really appreciate that conversation. And it would be weird to thank Mary for her gene pool."
"‘Most of the guys’? You said ‘most of the guys’ have been really gre
at."
I wished I could take back that word. Why couldn’t I just have said ‘the guys’? Margot clearly thought Jack was great. He called her Go! They obviously had a good thing going, and no one liked to hear someone talk badly about their friend. I sighed, considering my next words more carefully.
"It's nothing. I don't know why I said it. Jack just doesn't like me very much. It's fine. I mean, not everyone is going to like me."
"Jack? What makes you think he doesn't like you?"
I groaned inwardly. I looked down at my feet, then out over the gorgeous field that ended in mountains. I looked everywhere but at the person walking next to me, whom I really didn't want to hate me. She must have sensed I was hesitating, because she squeezed my arm lightly and gave me a reassuring smile.
"Hey, it's fine. It's not like I don't know Jack can be an ass. I love him, I do. But I've been around for a while. I had front-row seats to the broken engagement and the mess that followed it."
Those few words of reassurance were all I needed to open the floodgates.
"He just doesn't like me. He's always scowling at me and going out of his way to avoid me. I thought I was just being overly sensitive at first. It wouldn't be the first time I got my feelings hurt over something stupid I imagined. But I asked him if he would let me help him with King, because I really want to help and Jack said he wasn't making any progress. He literally said he didn't have time to babysit some city girl who felt like playing cowgirl for a couple weeks." I shrugged. "I just can't think of anything I could have done or said to make him dislike me so much."
