by Liz Isaacson
“You’re not paying,” Raven said, wiggling her fingers for Becca to step out of the pants and hand them to her.
Becca complied and took the skirt Raven handed to her next. “This one’s too lacy.”
“Just try it with the sweater.”
Becca didn’t want to think about a time when she’d need a sweater, as the heat wave that had hit Wyoming was determined to stay for a few more days. But she shimmied into the dark, eggplant-colored pencil skirt that had thick white lace all over it.
It fit great, and made her feel very feminine. She didn’t normally dress in skirts except for Sundays, but her new job would require it whenever she stepped foot outside the house. She wasn’t fussy enough for this job, but she was determined to do the best she could. And if that meant wearing a lacy pencil skirt, she’d do it.
She slipped her arms through the pale blue tank top and covered it with a matching cardigan before turning to the mirror.
Her breath stuck in her chest. She barely recognized herself in these clothes. And with makeup and heels and her hair hanging in loose waves around her face? She’d absolutely be the press secretary Andrew needed.
“See?” Raven said, standing to pull on the sweater in the back. “This is my favorite thing you’ve put on. Is it heavy?”
“The skirt is a bit. But it could be cold in October.”
“And you’ll still have the job in January, right?” Raven’s eyes met Becca’s in the mirror. Becca wanted to spill everything about her dinner date with Andrew the night before, but she’d agreed to keep the relationship a secret, and that meant from best friends too.
“Right,” she said. “So what else?”
“The black dress with gold flowers.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I get one thing for free.” Raven grinned as she picked up the silky dress and took it carefully off the hanger. “Just put it on, and then decide.”
“Fine.” Becca complied, but the bust fell in all the wrong ways. “It’s too big.”
“Yep. Not good. Take it off and then let’s go get lunch.” Raven reached for the door handle and slipped out of the dressing room.
Becca shook her head and changed back into her own clothes. She’d gotten quite a few things in the few hours they’d been in the store, and she spoke briefly with the saleswoman about coming back to get them after lunch. The woman was all smiles and yes ma’ams, and Becca decided she could really get used to being treated like a princess.
At the same time, her stomach soured. She’d never been motivated by money, though she could admit having it made life easier.
“So,” Raven said, hooking her arm through Becca’s as they walked past the makeup counter. “Something’s going on you haven’t told me.”
“No,” Becca said quickly. Maybe a little too quickly.
“You sure?” Raven asked.
“It’s just the new job,” Becca said. “It’s stressful. He wants me to be perfect. Look perfect. Talk perfectly. I might only last a week there.”
“Have you learned anything about this big project they’re unveiling?”
“Not yet.” Andrew hadn’t even brought it up once, and Becca had forgotten about it as well.
“Well, I can’t wait to hear all about it.” Raven steered them toward a fast casual restaurant with the best fried chicken in four states, and Becca replaced her worry over what the energy company could have up their sleeve—as well as how she could hide a relationship from Raven—with honey mustard and seasoned potato wedges.
It actually worked for the first few bites too. Then the reality of going to work at Springside Energy on Monday morning hit her with the strength of an avalanche.
Seven
Andrew lightly touched his temple, examining the mark there. It was small, barely noticeable, but his mind whirred around Becca and how he’d come to have her in his life.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” he said to his reflection. He rarely went to work on Sundays, instead choosing to catch a ride with Graham, Laney, and Bailey as they went down to town for church.
His phone bleeped, signaling that Graham had just left the ranch a mile down the road, and Andrew swept his device into his pocket and headed for the hallway.
Bree passed just as he opened his door, and they nearly collided. “Going to church?” she asked as she stutter-stepped ahead of him.
“Yes,” he said, noticing her long, flowery dress. “You?”
“Obviously.” She gave him a smile and ducked into the office.
“Graham will be here any second.”
“I know. I’m grabbing something for him.”
Andrew continued toward the front door, opening it just as Graham arrived in his brand new minivan. Andrew snorted, the sight of his tall, broad, cowboy-hat-wearing brother behind the wheel of a minivan too comical to ignore.
Graham glared at him through the windshield, and Andrew kept on laughing.
The window rolled down, and Graham growled, “Not a word.”
“I don’t think I can ride in this thing,” he said, looking into the back, where the kids sat.
“We don’t all fit in the SUV. Not if Bree comes too.” Graham cut a glance toward the front door, and Bree came running out.
“I don’t think I can fit in the back,” Andrew said. He had his suits tailored to his exact measurements, and climbing into a minivan wasn’t on his list of activities. The seams would surely rip if he tried to maneuver into the back of this vehicle.
“I’ll get in the back,” Bree said, already opening the door and folding herself onto the bench seat in the way back.
“We put Bailey back there too,” Laney said. “So you can ride right there by the door.”
Andrew eyed the seat and figured it was just like riding in the front. At least he had a tinted window, because showing up at church in a minivan? That wasn’t going to help his reputation.
He got in and grinned at baby Ronnie while Graham did a wide U-turn to get them back out of the parking lot. “How are things going with Becca?” he asked.
Andrew seized. Had his own brother just outed him? “What do you mean?” he asked, carefully, looking into the rear-view mirror to meet his brother’s eyes.
“She started last week, right? How do you think she’ll do as the press secretary?”
Andrew’s pulse quieted, but the adrenaline didn’t fade as quickly. “Oh, no. She hasn’t started yet. She signed paperwork on Thursday. Went shopping for a new wardrobe over the weekend. She starts tomorrow.”
“New wardrobe?”
“She’s going to be a very public figure,” Andrew said, a note of defensiveness in his voice. “She has to look the part.”
“And she didn’t have clothes?”
“She has a T-shirt that says ‘Grow a tree.’ You want her to wear that while we tour the state to talk about your robot?”
“No,” Graham barked.
“Look, don’t be mad at me that you’re driving a minivan.” Andrew grinned at the growl coming from his brother, and he looked at his sister-in-law. She tried to hide a smile, but she didn’t quite pull it off and ended up emitting a laugh before she could cover her mouth.
“What? You think he’s funny?”
“Maybe if you didn’t wear the hat.” Laney reached over as if she’d touch Graham’s hat, but he planted one palm right on top of his head.
“I am not driving this thing without it,” he said darkly. “It’s the only thing preserving my manhood right now.”
Laney laughed fully then, and Andrew joined in. “The van is necessary,” Laney said. “It’s your family’s fault.” She threw a playful glance at Andrew, clearly enjoying teasing her husband.
“I can drive myself to church,” Andrew said.
“I said I would drive,” Laney said. She turned back to Andrew. “He wouldn’t let me.”
“Da-da-da-da,” Ronnie babbled, and Laney said, “You tell him, bud. Should’ve let me drive.”
Andr
ew laughed—everyone did, except Graham, which somehow made everything funnier.
The next morning, there wasn’t much to laugh about. Becca was due to arrive any moment, and Andrew’s nerves fired like cannons. Sunday had been nice, with a great sermon, a picnic at Laney’s house, and then a long horseback ride through the woods that bordered the lodge.
Everything about Monday was the opposite. He had a meeting with Beau that morning, as his youngest brother was the company’s legal counsel. He also had to suffer through an hour or two with the accountant to get approval for the new wardrobe and then the tour costs. After that, he’d meet with Dwight to go over the final reveal plans. He hoped he had time to eat. Oh, and train Becca in her new job.
All while trying to pretend he didn’t like her for more than a co-worker. But he’d been thinking about her since their dinner a few nights ago, and they got along quite well through texting.
He wasn’t great at that though, so the chats were short, with long periods of time in between. He simply didn’t like the medium for real conversations, though he had learned that she did not like clam chowder or raisins during one of their message streams.
So he rushed through his morning chores, showered, and showed up at Springside forty minutes before he normally did.
“She’s in her office,” Carla said, a look of worry in her brown eyes.
“Who is?” Andrew took the slips of paper his secretary handed him, scanning the messages. She’d tried emailing or texting him who had called or what the news was, but Andrew had missed too much that way. He much preferred just stopping to talk with her, have her explain some of her shortened scribbles, and then tackling the biggest items first.
“Becca Collings,” Carla said, rising from her seat. “She got here twenty minutes ago, and I didn’t really know what to have her do. I texted you.”
Andrew’s heart ba-bumped in his chest and rose to his neck. “I was probably driving,” he managed to say. “Thanks, Carla.”
“That bottom one is from Dwayne,” she said as he walked past her desk toward his office. “He needs to reschedule.”
“I’ll talk to him first then.” Andrew lifted the fistful of slips above his head in his traditional thank you, Carla. You’re the best wave, and glanced to his right. An empty room had once sat there, but he’d had a custodian and Carla make it into an office for Becca last Friday. A new desk, a comfortable chair, a computer, and a telephone, and she was ready to move in.
He went into his office though every cell in his body screamed at him to go into hers. He’d call over to Dwayne first. Make sure he had his paperwork ready for both Beau and Paul, the accountant, and then he’d go see how Becca had settled in.
Andrew took a moment to admire the Wyoming landscape from his windows, then he sat.
“Morning.”
“Oh.” He flinched and jerked, his chair sliding backward. “You scared me.”
Becca stood in front of him, wearing a dress that screamed professional and yet highlighted all her best features too. She seemed taller, and as he stood, he could see her heeled feet.
“Nice dress,” he said, his voice only slightly strangled. But wow, his tie had never felt like it was cutting off his air before.
She swished the hem of it, sending the flowers on the cream-colored fabric moving. “Thanks.” She sat in the chair across from him. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be working on.”
“Did you get logged in to your computer okay?” He resisted the urge to look over her shoulder and out toward Carla. Of course it made sense to have Becca in his office. And of course she wouldn’t know what to do unless he told her.
“Yes, there was a pristine pink Post-it note all ready for me.” She smiled, and he noticed the shiny pink gloss on her lips. He stared, perhaps for a moment past comfortable, because she cleared her throat and added, “Carla said you had a few meetings today. I was hoping I could sit in on them. Start to learn what you do, so I’ll know what I should do.”
Andrew blinked, feeling like the biggest fool on the planet. “Yes, yes,” he said. “Beau should be here in ten minutes, and then we have to go to the fifth floor and meet with the accounting department. Dwight cancelled.” He sorted through the slips of paper and found the one with Dwight’s name on it.
“Well, I’m about to cancel with him. Then we can go over the unveiling. That will be your first task.” He leaned his elbows on his desk, glad for the physical barrier between them, because he had such a strong desire to take her into his arms and kiss her right there.
And Andrew didn’t know what to do with those feelings. So he stuffed them deep, deep, and hoped that boring business meetings would beat the attraction right out of him.
“The unveiling?”
“Yes, I’ll need you to sign these.” He opened a drawer, but the paperwork wasn’t there. “Carla?” He got up and went to the doorway. “I need the non-disclosure docs about the robot for Becca to sign.”
“Yes, sir.”
Andrew cringed. Carla was at least a decade older than Andrew, and he’d never asked her to call him sir. In fact, she rarely did. Why had she now?
He returned to his desk with, “Carla’s printing them.”
“Non-disclosure?” Becca asked.
Andrew looked at her, finding interest and doubt in her eyes at the same time. “My brother has invented a robot,” he said carefully, as she hadn’t signed the paperwork yet. “That’s what we’re unveiling. Nothing’s been done with it yet.”
She narrowed her eyes, her mouth tightening. “What do you mean? It’s not ready?”
“No.” He shook his head, wishing his thoughts would align as perfectly as the creases in his slacks. “The robot is ready. Nothing for the press or media has been prepared. We have a plan for the unveiling. We have stops scheduled. Meetings with mayors and then town halls. But for the next three weeks, you’ll be learning everything you can about our company, the history, what we do, and how this robot will change it for the better.”
He watched her, as he’d never really given her a job description before. Her shoulders squared and she lifted her chin, a move he’d seen her do several times. It was her way of showing her determination, of not backing down from whatever was in front of her. It was incredibly sexy, that two-inch motion of her chin, and Andrew smothered his smile.
“Then you’ll be preparing our speeches, the media releases, the magazine articles. You’ll coordinate with all the mayor’s offices in the towns we’ll be visiting, all the newspapers no matter how small, and making sure every photo from every photographer is approved before it goes to print, either digitally or physically.”
Her eyes widened now and her mouth opened slightly. Andrew did chuckle then. “I told you it was an insane job.”
She snapped her lips together, her eyes blazing with fire now. “I just have one question.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. “You have a million questions, Becca. It’s something I rather like about you.”
That stunned her into silence for a few beats, then she said, “What were you planning to do if I said no to this job?”
“I knew you wouldn’t say no.”
“You have never advertised this job. What if I didn’t hit you with my yardstick? Had you even been looking for a press secretary?” She leaned forward too, and Andrew couldn’t escape from the sharpness of her gaze.
“I’d been thinking about it for a few months,” he admitted. “But no, we hadn’t been officially looking.”
“So what would you have done if I’d said no?”
He sighed, almost rolling his eyes but catching himself at the last moment. He did not let his nerves show in public. Or his frustration. Never anger. And never did he make someone feel like he didn’t appreciate every single thing they said.
“Becca,” he said calmly. “I would’ve done whatever it took to be ready for this tour if you had turned down the job.”
W
hatever it took. That was the motto for Andrew’s life. And he knew what that meant for something of this magnitude. It meant he wouldn’t have slept. He’d have hired Laney’s cowhand to take care of the horses full-time. He’d have skipped church. Heck, he’d probably have set up a cot in what was now Becca’s office and slept there so he could get everything done that needed to be done.
“But you did say yes,” he said as Carla appeared in the doorway, a few sheets of paper in her hand. She paused, never entering when he was meeting with someone without his permission. “And I’m going to have Carla pull a few files for you on our company, just as soon as you sign this non-disclosure form.” He gestured for Carla to come on in.
She did, and set the papers on the desk in front of Becca, along with a black pen.
“Then we’ll do our meetings,” he spoke as if sitting in a meeting was akin to going to the beach. “And then, I’ll show you our robot.”
He noticed her extreme interest at that, and she reached over and picked up the pen. She signed her name with a flourish, and Andrew nodded at Carla. The secretary swept the papers away and he said, “Get her everything, Carla. And let me know when Beau shows up, would you?”
Everyone stood, and Carla led the way out of his office. He buttoned his jacket as he followed the women out, and he paused at Carla’s desk. “I’ll be in Graham’s office for a few minutes.”
He walked away without waiting for her confirmation, because he really needed a space that wasn’t perfumed with the sweet smell of Becca Collings.
Graham, unsurprisingly, was not in yet, and Andrew closed the door and leaned against it, breathing deeply.
“How am I going to keep things professional?” he whispered to the ceiling, hoping his words would make it all the way to God’s ears. “I can’t even get through a ten-minute conversation with the woman without wanting to kiss her.”
Andrew imagined God to be laughing at him, because he’d never not known what to do in a situation. But with Becca he felt like he’d broken both arms and was trying to figure out how to write with his feet.
