by Holly Rayner
“Just stopping by my hot, billionaire boss’s house,” she reminded herself. “To plan the biggest party I’ve ever organized. What’s to be nervous about?”
Chapter 10
Adison
The house was the largest one on the nicest street in Buffalo. Not that she could know for sure, but that’s certainly the impression Adison got when she pulled up to it.
There was a speaker at the wrought-iron gate situated in the middle of a tall, brick wall. She rolled down her window, ready to announce herself, but there was a buzz and the gate opened up.
Rolling her window back up, she drove up the drive and parked in front of the stone house. Three stories tall, it was surrounded by trees and had a garage that had to be capable of housing at least ten cars. She briefly wondered how many vehicles Ken owned, and why one man lived in such a giant house.
Then again, she didn’t know for a fact that he lived there alone. It suddenly seemed silly that she’d assumed he did.
It was only a few yards from her car to the front stoop, but since she didn’t know how long she’d be waiting at the front door, she pulled on her red wool jacket. A few flakes were coming down, but Ken’s driveway was nice and salted, without so much as a patch of ice.
On the stoop, two ceramic planters with small evergreens flanked a black pendant light that hung from the stones above. The place was nicely designed, the porch without so much as a leaf or speck of dirt.
She reached out to ring the doorbell, but before she could touch it, the door opened.
There stood Ken, the suit jacket he’d had on earlier in the day discarded. He still wore his sky-blue button-up, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was slightly ruffled, like he’d been running his fingers through it. Yellow light glowed around him, and Adison found it suddenly hard to catch her breath.
“Hello,” he said.
She swallowed hard. “Hello.”
“Come in.” He stepped aside, ushering her into the house. “I’ll take your coat.”
She shrugged out of it and handed it over. While he hung it in a closet by the front door, she surreptitiously checked out their surroundings.
The front door had opened into a rather spacious foyer. Its square footage likely rivaled that of her whole apartment. Straight ahead, a staircase climbed to the second floor before splitting at a landing and going in two directions. The path to the third floor remained unseen.
“I’m glad you could make it,” said Ken. “Can I get you anything to drink? You must be freezing.”
He walked as he talked, leading her through an open doorway and into an elevated living room. Like the foyer, it was also extremely large. Though it was nicely decorated, with leather furniture and a massive pair of antlers over the fireplace, there was a lack of personal touch to it all.
It wasn’t until they were in the next room, the kitchen, that she realized there had been no personal mementos. No photos. No knickknacks.
The kitchen was the same. Massive, with new appliances and marble counters, but without anything that suggested the house was actually lived in. It read more like a model home that had been staged for potential buyers.
The exception to all of this was one of the two islands. Here a laptop sat open, several papers strewn out next to it.
“You’re still working?” she asked.
She was making small talk, not judging him of anything. Which is why she was so surprised at the sheepish look that came across his face.
“There’s always something to be done,” he said. “Would you like some tea, perhaps?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I appreciate it, though.” She clasped her hands together in front of her, feeling awkward. His reason for inviting her to his home still hadn’t been revealed.
“Well?” he asked. “What do you think?”
She watched him, waiting for more. It didn’t come.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “About what?”
“The house.” A slow look of realization came over his face. “Oh. Right. I’m sorry. I didn’t even explain myself. Right this way.”
He led her through a doorway opposite the one they’d come in through, down a couple steps that led to a depressed hallway with bookshelves on one side and a row of windows on the other that looked out into a courtyard. Adison barely had time to take in the water fountain, solar lights, and dark plants before they were in another room.
This one was another living room, which opened into yet another cozy-looking room, making it a two-in-one situation. At the far end of it all was a piano and a bar.
How did Ken differentiate all these rooms? Did he call one a den? One a living room? One a parlor?
She nearly laughed out loud at that last one.
And who would he even use those words with, other than a housekeeper—because there was no way he cleaned this mansion on his own? Like in the other parts of the house, there were no photos, very little personal touch.
If another person lived here with Ken, they were invisible.
“Do you think we could have the party here?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Here?” she parroted.
So that was why he’d asked her over. To look at the house.
Duh.
“Let’s see…” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Which part of the home are you willing to open up?”
“I thought this could be the main area. There’s a door there leading to the house’s side entrance.” He pointed. “But we can use any other part that you think necessary.”
He didn’t mind over a hundred people milling about his house, looking at his personal things, possibly even touching them?
A glance at his face told her he didn’t mind at all. Yet more confirmation that very little about this house was “personal.”
“It can work,” she said. “Absolutely. And the bonus is that you already have a piano, so that will make life easier for any musicians we hire.”
“Wonderful.”
“Great.”
“Perfect.” He smiled wide, eyes sparkling.
She didn’t know if she’d ever seen him smile before. No, she must have. Only never like this; like he meant it with every fiber of his being.
She looked away and rubbed her palms together. “Up next is catering. What about a light buffet? Everything pre-made. Sandwiches. Chicken. Skewers. That kind of thing. And we can set small tables out.”
“That sounds good. Do you have a certain caterer in mind?”
“I’m sure I can find the perfect one.”
She had her fingers crossed that booking a catering company would be easier than booking a venue. If it came down to it, she would get in that kitchen herself and make wraps, Christmas cookies, and her mother’s mousse until her fingers bled. Anything to make this party a success.
“What about the courtyard?” She walked back to it. “Do you have anything in mind for this?”
“Er…” He followed, hands in his pockets. “No?”
Adison laughed, and when he joined in, her chest warmed. “That’s okay,” she said. “I have some.”
“Excellent.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t want to hear what they are?”
He shrugged. “I would love to hear what they are, but I already know I’ll say yes. You’re the expert.”
“It’s your party,” she said.
“And I saw your socials,” he volleyed back. “You’ve done some amazing things.”
That struck her speechless. He’d looked at her social media accounts?
Only to see your past work, silly.
Right. Of course. He’d looked only to see if she was capable of doing the job at hand. Not because he was interested in her beyond that or anything.
She cleared her throat, searching for where she’d left her train of thought. “If you agree—”
“Which I will…”
“I’d like to do a Winter Wonderland theme,” she said. “With the color scheme gold and white. We
’ll have a Christmas tree, of course, and that will be white as well. Unless you want—”
“I want what you want,” he said, interrupting again.
She bit into her bottom lip, afraid she was smiling too much and he’d wonder what was up with her. “Okay. Then I’ll do what I want.”
“Excellent.”
A moment of silence lingered, but he didn’t look eager for anything to happen. They stood there, gazes flicking back and forth between each other and the courtyard.
And then Ken’s phone rang from inside his pocket. “Sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay.” Adison took a step back. “I should be going anyway. I need to look up catering companies.”
His smile was apologetic as he pulled out his phone and accepted a video call.
“Hello, Thea,” he said. “Good to see you.”
An attractive woman appeared on the screen, her short dark hair in a bob cut. It looked like she was relaxing on a couch, a pile of decorative pillows propped up behind her.
“Ken,” she cooed. “There you are.”
Adison’s stomach dropped. Yep. There he was. And there she was. The woman in Ken’s life.
Because of course there was one. She was surprised there hadn’t been hordes of women scaling the wall around his property.
She knew she was making assumptions—it was one of the things she did best. But the evidence seemed to strongly skew in one direction. This Thea was video-calling him in the late evening, while cozied up at home, and she’d alluded to having been trying to get in touch with him.
Time for Adison to make her exit.
She waved at Ken and went to turn on her heel, but Thea’s voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
Adison froze.
“This is Adison.” Ken turned the phone so that Thea could see the both of them. “She works with me.”
At another time—say two minutes before—Adison might have found it flattering that he said “works with” and not “works for.” Right then, though, all she cared about was evacuating the building.
“Hello,” she said, waving, smile not quite reaching her eyes. She shifted her gaze to meet Ken’s. “I should go.”
“Of course, of course.” Ken looked like he might add something else, but then he shook his head the slightest bit and said, “Good night, Adison.”
She left the house quickly, which was probably a bad idea. She should have taken the time to soak in the surroundings more, maybe make a mental note of estimated dimensions and places to set up cocktail tables.
As it was, she felt flustered, confused, and undone. For the briefest moment there, when she and Ken stood looking out at the courtyard, she’d let her guard down.
Well, not anymore.
As of that instant, her walls were going right back up.
Chapter 11
Ken
Ken’s office door flung open without warning. Not even looking up from his computer, he shook his head.
“What’s up, Simon?”
“How’d you know it was me?” Ken’s associate director—and likely his closest friend—plopped down in the seat across from him.
Ken turned from his computer with a wry smile. “Call it a lucky guess. Oh, and no one else would dare breeze in here without asking my assistants first if it’s all right.”
“They tried to stop me, to be fair to them.” Simon grabbed the stress ball from the desk and tossed it in the air, then caught it. “You have lunch plans?”
“Lunch?” Ken frowned.
“The meal between breakfast and dinner.” Simon put the stress ball down, his eyes narrowed and studying Ken. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great.”
Except that he’d barely slept the night before, tormented as he was by thoughts of Adison. Fantasies, that’s all they were.
He regretted answering the phone when Thea called. The move had been reflexive, but he should have declined the call and gotten in touch with her later. The intrusion had clearly made Adison uncomfortable.
He wanted to believe she’d been enjoying some time alone with him and hadn’t wanted it interrupted but knew that likely wasn’t the case. It was more plausible that she only wanted to talk more about the party.
As far as Thea, she’d been calling to touch base about the exact number of temperature readers the Montoya Foundation had requested. Just a minute of business, that interrupted a stolen moment of pleasure.
Ken shook his head. Darn it. No matter what he did, Adison now seemed to be a permanent fixture in his mind. He’d come in early that morning, before most of the staff had arrived, and she hadn’t been there yet. Ever since then, he’d been locked away in his office, working but doing an awful job at focusing.
“You look exhausted,” Simon commented.
Ken scrubbed his face. “It’s been an interesting couple of days.”
Simon had been in Manhattan for business the last few days, so he was out of the loop.
“Is this about the new hire?” Simon’s lips turned down. “Is she not working out?”
Ken chuckled. “She’s more than working out. I hired her to plan a Montoya Foundation Christmas party.”
Simon stared at him a long time, then looked carefully around the room, as if searching for hidden cameras. “I’m waiting for the punchline.”
“There is no punchline. Woolridge Medical sent over a rep, and she’s a, well, an interesting personality. She wants me to prove myself before she donates the goods.”
“Prove yourself? By having a party?”
Ken fiddled with his tie, realizing he’d done a terrible job tying it that morning. “It sounds crazy—I realize that—but she claims she wants to develop a personal relationship, and I think a party is the way to her heart.”
“A personal relationship, huh?” Simon set his laced hands on the desk. His suggestive tone could only mean one thing.
“Not like that.”
“Are you sure?”
The question irritated Ken more than it should have. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He wasn’t, really. It simply didn’t matter to him. He wasn’t interested in Thea in that way, and he wasn’t sending her signals that could suggest otherwise. At least he didn’t think he was.
“It’s how she does business,” he added.
“Quite the opposite of how you do it.” Simon chuckled.
Ken shrugged. His friend knew him well.
“Anyway,” Ken said, “Adison will do a wonderful job planning the party. Not only does she have the experience, but she has the enthusiasm…as well as a winning personality that should help with planning something last minute.”
“A winning personality.” Simon repeated the words slowly. “That’s quite the compliment.”
Lacing his hands behind his head, Ken leaned back in his chair. “First you think I’m crushing on the client, now you’re suggesting I’m crushing on my new employee? You know, I don’t always need a woman in my life.”
“Don’t I know it. How long has it been since you’ve had a relationship? Or even gone on a date for that matter?”
Ken’s jaw tightened. He hated it when Simon ribbed him for his dating life. Or, more specifically, lack thereof.
For him, dating happened in waves. Short, sporadic waves. The last year, he’d lost most of his interest in it. He knew this was a sharp contrast to how other men in their early thirties lived their lives. Every other guy he knew was either in a committed relationship or going on dates every weekend and juggling multiple women.
Neither of those situations were for him.
He didn’t know exactly what was for him when it came to women, and trying to think it through never yielded results. He was better off focusing on what he did understand: business.
“So you’re not going to answer.” Simon rapped his knuckles on the table. “Understood. In that case, let's talk about—”
“Adison is something special.”
A long silence followed Ken’s statement. Though the claim was true, he wasn’t sure why he’d given breath to it.
Simon’s lips twitched, a sure sign he was fighting a smile. “Tell me about her.”
“I only mean…” Ken ran his palm over his head and glanced at the door. He knew no one was really out there listening, but he felt self-conscious nonetheless. “We’re in an interesting situation.”
“What do you mean? Because of the party?”
“No.” Ken took a deep breath then launched into the story of what had happened at the coffee shop. By the time he finished, Simon was slapping his knee and laughing so hard his face was red.
“Oh, this will be fun,” Simon crowed.
“It was fun for a minute,” Ken corrected. “We’re not actually pretending to be a couple anymore.”
“That’s what you think. What about when she has a party to go to and she needs her boyfriend to join her? Are you really planning on turning her down?”
Ken opened his mouth, thinking he would say “yes,” but he hesitated. No, he wouldn’t turn Adison down. He would be happy to help her.
They had to be careful, though. While he wasn’t a celebrity by any definition, people knew who he was. If it got out that he was in a relationship, someone might start snooping. If they discovered the relationship was a lie, it would be devastating both for his reputation and that of the Montoya Foundation.
“I’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it,” he decided out loud. “Now what were you about to mention a moment ago?”
“I was circling back to Miami.”
“Right.” Ken dropped his hands from behind his head and rolled his shoulders. Back to business.
They’d been discussing opening a Montoya Foundation office in Miami for a while. It was a big project, and focusing on it was sure to help him get his mind off Adison.
“About Miami…” He cleared his throat and launched into it.
Here and there, he filled his mind with thoughts big enough that they commanded his full attention. Throughout the conversation, though, Adison drifted in.
He wondered how she was doing, whether he’d imagined her discomfort the night before. He lingered on the party, what needed to be done for it next, and whether she needed any assistance.
