So I could figure out the unbiased truth of it.
“That sucks.” Emily frowned in sympathy. “But are you surprised? He’s not exactly on the cutting edge of trends.”
“Y-you’re right. I shouldn’t be surprised. I guess I’m more disappointed.”
She reached out to pat my hand, but I pulled it back quickly. My personal bubble had just tripled in size and I wasn’t ready to touch another human yet. Even if it was one of my friends.
Her head cocked back. “Are you sure you’re okay, Molly?”
“I have a headache,” I told her. “I think it’s becoming a migraine.” Truth. “And it’s just been a really rough morning.” Noticing my hands had started to shake I balled them into fists and tucked them beneath my desk.
“Can I get you something? Coffee? Water?”
Whiskey. Neat. “W-water would be great. Thank you.”
Her expression stayed concerned, but she got up and headed for the kitchen. I took a shaky breath and tried to convince myself that it wasn’t the end of the world. I was just jostled. I hadn’t been expecting to face this today. Or any day. Or ever.
I closed my eyes and his hand was on my breast again. His fingers had stretched around the full circumference, his palm pressed firmly against my nipple.
Okay, so maybe I didn’t want to relive every second of that altercation.
A shudder slithered over me and I felt abruptly nauseous. Nervous energy rushed through me and before I totally grasped what I was doing, I had started a casual lap around the office. I probably wasn’t going to talk to HR, but it wouldn’t hurt to check out who was here today.
Nobody it turned out.
Doris ran the entire department by herself and she was nowhere to be found. Her desk looked untouched. Apparently, she had the day off.
Spinning around, I cased Mr. Tucker’s desk. It was across the office, but because of the open floor plan, I could see it from here. The only thing standing in my way was basically every single one of my coworkers, a brick pillar and my own doubt and fear.
“How’s the account?”
I jerked, surprised by the person standing to my left. “Oh my God. Catherine, you scared me.”
As the top female designer at STS, Catherine Dawes was everything I aspired to be. She was at least five years older than me and light years cooler. Starting with her perfectly smooth, expertly tamed platinum blonde hair to her houndstooth wrap dress, she embodied poise and professionalism.
Today, I looked like a cracked-out hipster with hair that wouldn’t lay nicely or do what I asked it to do. I couldn’t blame the hair on Henry though. That was one hundred percent me.
The Maverick curse.
“What account?” I asked stupidly.
“The Black Soul account. Didn’t Henry handpick you for that project?”
“Uh…” I didn’t know what to say. Her gaze probed mine, looking for something I couldn’t identify. Was she jealous? Did she want the project? She could have it. I was over Black Soul and working with Henry Tucker. “I guess.”
“What’s it like working with him?”
I folded my arms over my chest, feeling distinctly singled out. Catherine never spoke to me. Not even when we’d been paired on projects together. In general, she always kept to herself.
So I didn’t understand where this was coming from. Had Henry asked her to say something? Feel me out? In the proverbial sense, anyway. We already knew that if he was going to do it literally, he would do it himself.
“It’s fine.” I wished I wouldn’t have walked all the way over here for Doris who couldn’t even bother to show up for her job.
I must have glanced at Doris’s desk because Catherine’s gaze moved in the same direction. “Are you looking for Doris?”
“I was,” I admitted. “But it’s not a big deal. I can just talk to her when she gets back.”
“She won’t be back for another ten days,” Catherine supplied. “She’s on a cruise.”
Well, shit. “Are you serious?”
“Is it important? We got a memo about this last week. We’re supposed to go to Henry if we need something HR related. He’s covering while she’s out of the office.”
Of course he is.
“It’s seriously not a big deal.” I started to move away from Catherine toward my desk. “I’ll catch her some other time.”
“Molly,” she called after me. I only stopped because I was so surprised she knew my name. “If there’s something you want to talk about or if… something happened that you feel should be shared, I’m here for you.”
I licked dry lips and determined to forget about what had happened and move on with my life and this project. “Okay. Uh, thanks.”
Catherine’s bizarre proposal stayed with me for the rest of the day while I pretended to work. I wanted to tell someone. I would even tell Emily if it meant getting it off my chest. But I couldn’t seem to get the words past my lips.
It wasn’t until she started packing up for the day that I finally found the courage to confess.
She turned and asked, “Happy hour?”
I blinked at her and said, “Henry grabbed my boob this morning,” in a rushed, whispered explanation.
Her response boomed through the office. “He did what?”
Glancing around, I dropped my voice and repeated, “Henry grabbed my boob, Em. After the meeting this morning. He started by putting his hand on my shoulder and when I tried to move away, he grabbed my boob.”
She dropped her purse and laptop on the floor and shoved her rolling chair over by me. “Like full on?”
“Like a grab, Emily! Like you grab something. Like you intentionally try to grab something. That’s what he did. To my boob.” And if I’m forced to say boob one more time today, I might scream.
“Holy shit! What are you going to do?”
“I tried to talk to HR earlier, but Doris is on a cruise for the next ten days. The Little Tucker is filling in for her.”
“Yeah, well the Little Fucker can go to hell.” Her outrage soothed some of my own. “Did you say something?”
I took a steadying breath. “I told him not to touch me again. But since I shouldn’t have had to say that to begin with, who knows if he’ll listen.”
“He better listen!”
“I know.”
“Molly, what are you going to do?” she asked for a second time.
“Do you have any ideas? Seriously, I’m open. At this point my only other option is to go to his dad. But Henry is adamant that it was an accident. It’s his word against mine.”
“And mine,” she added. “I’m happy to speak up for you.”
“Except you weren’t there,” I reminded her. “You’re only hearing my side of the story.”
She rolled her eyes. “Because your side of the story is the only one that matters.”
We fell silent, neither one of us having the right answer.
Eventually I decided, “I’ll wait till Doris comes back and then I’ll tell her what happened. She’ll do something. It’s her job to do something.”
Emily nodded. “And in the meantime, I’ll protect you from Junior. He’s not going to be able to get within fifty feet of you on my watch.”
The pressure in my chest eased up even though I knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her promise. Henry and I were in the middle of an important project together. There was no way I would be able to avoid him forever. But maybe for ten days? I could make it until Doris got back. Then I could decide what to do.
Emily walked me to my car and I appreciated her kindness. I didn’t want to need help right now, but I did need it. Mostly, I just wanted to crawl back to my apartment and forget this day ever happened. But since I couldn’t do that, it was nice to have a friend like Emily to walk alongside me.
And it was nice to have the meeting with Ezra to look forward to, to give me something else to think about. Maybe it would be less awful than the rest of my day. A girl could hope anyway.
&n
bsp; Chapter Seventeen
Bianca was alive with dinner activity when I walked through the doors. Placed on the outskirts of downtown in a recently redeveloped art district, the restaurant was tucked between an old house that had been turned into an antique shop and a French bakery (the French bakery) that was currently closed.
The restaurant itself was almost hidden behind vines of ivy twining over her brick front. A wrought iron fence outlined a cute patio just to the side of the main doors. A menu board stood at the entrance so people walking by could stop and check out what the special was.
I walked inside, nervous and uptight from a long day, but Bianca’s enchantment slowly began to chip away at the icy armor I’d been wearing for hours.
Immediately, my eyes fell on the focal point of the space, which was an oval bar in the center of the dining room. A huge chandelier hung above it, shaped like a flower with dripping crystals glittering in the golden light. The flower theme continued around the room. Over every table was a hanging white pot with overflowing white flowers, dripping down the sides. The artwork was all white flowers, white shapes and buildings. White everything.
Since Ezra had forced me to work with him, I’d been doing my research with each of his restaurants. Bianca meant white. So it was only appropriate that he’d painted his entire restaurant in it.
Even his hostesses were dressed in white. Unlike Lilou, where everyone wore black.
I would have to visit Sarita next. Just to see what color scheme he’d gone with.
Red I would guess.
The uninspired wall caught my attention. Two of the four walls of the restaurant had windows letting in light. The back wall hid the kitchen and was broken up by in and out doors and the space for the bathrooms. But the fourth wall, the one to the right of the bar, was windowless and in desperate need of something. It was even more obvious how badly it stuck out standing in the restaurant. Pictures didn’t do the tragic space justice.
My idea bloomed into something more substantial with the dimensions in front of me. Bianca was modern, yet whimsical. Simple, yet completely charming.
“Are you meeting someone?” the hostess asked.
“Ezra,” I told her, finding I didn’t have much strength for many words.
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Ezra Baptiste?”
“Yes.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“Yes.”
She puckered her lips and looked toward the bar. “I think he’s in the kitchen tonight, but I’m not totally sure. I’ll go check.”
When she walked off to hunt down her boss, I picked up a menu. Bianca was considerably smaller than Lilou, but just as fancy. I barely recognized any of the dishes on the simple menu and the descriptions were even worse. Even the cocktails seemed written in a different language.
I needed Vera to interpret the menu for me. From my research, I knew Bianca served modern French cuisine, but that meant nothing to someone who knew zero about high-end food.
My stomach growled anyway. Apparently it didn’t care what they served, just that they had food. And to be honest, after watching several plates being delivered to nearby tables, I couldn’t blame it. Whatever these people were eating looked incredible.
A few minutes passed before Ezra emerged from the kitchen. To my surprise he sported a white chef’s coat. He pulled off a short, floppy chef’s hat on his way over to me, a serious look on his usually serious face.
“Molly,” he greeted in his typical way. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
I stared at him, my mouth going dry with wonder at this new version of him. He always looked so put together in his suits and dress clothes. And the few times I’d seen him clad more casually had been heart stopping. But this? The white coat hugged his toned arms and muscular chest. He still wore navy blue trousers instead of the usual pants I knew chefs wore. And his shoes were shiny, expensive and out of place in the kitchen. He was… disheveled, and mismatching, and completely gorgeous. “Are you a chef?”
He cleared his throat, glancing away from me. “Not formally. But I know my way around a kitchen, regardless of what Killian’s told you.”
“He hasn’t told me anything,” I assured him. “I’m just surprised to see you back there.”
His eyes still refused to meet mine and if it were any other person I would have guessed that he was nervous. But this was Ezra after all. The man didn’t get nervous. Or uncomfortable. Or anything but cocky and self-assured. “There was an issue with dinner service. I stepped in to help.”
“That was nice of you.”
His smile was self-deprecating and humble, proving all of my theories about him wrong. “No, it wasn’t. It was completely selfish. I don’t want my restaurant to fail.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, you’re right. It was completely selfish of you to save the day. How dare you take care of your business.”
His lips split in a warm grin, but he changed the subject. “You’re here to see the wall?”
“Is that all right? I don’t want to be a nuisance.”
He waved me off. “It’s fine. We’ll save the painting part for after hours, but take whatever measurements you need.”
“Lead the way,” I prompted him.
He did just that, taking me around the edge of the room until I was face to face with my future project. Staring at this giant white space which was basically the biggest canvas I’d ever been given, finally released the tension that had been bottling up inside me all day.
I released a happy sigh of anticipation and reached out to press my hand on a blank section of white paint. “This is going to be fun,” I whispered.
Ezra turned to me. “Hmm?”
“Nothing.” I walked around Ezra to check out more of the wall. “I was just talking to myself.”
“You look happy,” he commented. “Did you have a good day?”
Without looking at him, I admitted, “I had a terrible day.” I ran my finger down the side of a black picture frame. “But this makes it better.”
I heard the smile in his voice without looking at him. “I was just thinking that.”
Those butterflies came back full force, jumping and flapping and causing all kinds of chaos inside me. Spinning toward him, I met his gaze bravely. “Do you want to hear my idea?”
He stared at me. “Do you want to tell me your idea?”
I shook my head, half mesmerized by the mysterious look in his eyes. It was warm and tender and familiar all at once. “Not really.”
He lifted one shoulder in a slow shrug. “Then I’ll wait for the big reveal.”
His answer made me doubt his sincerity. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Why would I be kidding?”
Because you’re a completely adorable control freak. “You really trust me that much? I’m painting an entire wall, Ezra.”
“In matters like these, Molly, I’m beginning to think I trust you more than anyone else I know.”
What was I supposed to do with that? Besides memorize it and the way he looked right now and the way his words made me feel safe, and important, and seen. I wanted to bottle this moment and keep it with me forever so I could pull it out every time I felt insecure or less than. So I could remind myself of what it was like to feel respected.
Because I did feel respected. For whatever reason, this super successful restaurateur had decided that I was a peer. Where my entire office failed to put any faith in me, he had risked his entire empire on me and my taste. He trusted me. When my boss shot down my ideas and dismissed my vision and groped me, this man had asked me to help him, put his full trust in me.
And he’d given me complete autonomy to do what I thought was best.
Ezra had no idea how much that meant to me, how much he had changed every single thing I believed about the world and being a grown-up and having a job.
“What do you need from me?” he asked when I hadn’t said anything after a while.
“Nothing right now,”
I told him. “Will it be okay to put up the screens? I’m hoping to get a good start Saturday, but I don’t want to be too intrusive.”
“You’ll be fine,” he promised. “Let me know what I can supply you with and I’ll have it here for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you hungry?”
“What?”
He’d somehow managed to close the space between us. “Are you hungry? Have you eaten?”
“Uh, no.”
“Do you want to join me for a quick bite?”
My heartbeat tripled. “Like right now?”
One half of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Yes, like right now.” The smile disappeared. “Unless you have somewhere else to be.”
An irrational need to see his smile reappear prompted me to say, “No, I don’t have anywhere to be. So sure, dinner sounds good.”
“Okay, great. Have a seat over… here.” He walked me to a two-person table near the kitchen. “I have to go check on the kitchen before I sit down, but I’ll have Sienna bring you a menu.”
He pulled the chair out for me with a swift tug of his arm and suddenly I was beyond nervous. What was this exactly? An obligation? A working dinner?
“Thank you,” I rasped, barely getting words out of my dry mouth.
He motioned for Sienna the hostess to come over with an elegant flick of his wrist. She hopped into action, scurrying through the restaurant to see what he needed. Either she had a high school crush on him or he was a terrifying boss that she was petrified of pissing off.
Or a mixture of the two.
Not that I knew anything about that.
“Can you bring Molly a menu,” he asked her. “And a glass of water.” He looked at me. “Do you want anything else? A cocktail? Wine?”
I cleared my throat, hoping to magically get better at speaking. “I’ll just start with water. Thank you.”
“I’ll be right back,” Sienna promised.
Ezra smiled down at me when she’d disappeared. “I will be too. I just have to make sure everything’s running smoothly. Flag Sienna down if you need anything, or any of the wait staff if you can’t find her. This is my usual table so they’ll check on you.”
The Difference Between Us Page 20
