by Tia Wylder
Zachary stands up from his chair, his huge muscles bulging under his shirt and the sexy crinkles around his eyes amplifying as he smiles at me. “I trust you. You’re obviously brilliant. You’re confident, or you wouldn’t have plopped yourself down at my desk like you own the damn place. And let’s be honest, looking like you do, you could sell water to a drowning man. I don’t think I have anything to worry about. Plus, I’ll be back in an hour, and I think I’ll have something exciting to tell you. Lunch at The Grotto?”
I’m simultaneously embarrassed by another compliment and flabbergasted. The Grotto is one of the most exclusive restaurants in Los Angeles, and there is no way I could ever afford to eat there, even if I wiped out my checking account and only ate a salad. “The Grotto? Are you sure?”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Why wouldn’t I be sure? The firm has a standing table there. Can you meet me there at one?”
I nod enthusiastically. While I don’t relish sharing a meal with Zachary Graham, there is no way I am going to say no to one of the steaks at The Grotto. “I’ll be there.”
Zachary winks and disappears out the door, and I’m left to call Bethany, praying I don’t screw anything up, given the gravity of the tasks I’ve just been assigned…
* * *
It’s 1:15 pm, and I’m sitting alone at the Harper, Graham, and Graham table at The Grotto, and looking increasingly like I’ve been stood up. Waiters and waitresses that pass me are beginning to give me pitiful looks, and one offers me a free glass of white wine like I need something to cry in. I give him a polite smile and tell him I’m fine, before going back to playing a game on my phone where I get to make tiny gems explode with a hammer. I’ve already decided if Zachary doesn’t show up, I’m going to order the most expensive meal on the menu and charge it to the firm, so it’s no skin off my nose either way.
I’m just about to beat my high score when the restaurant’s manager walks up to me, looking apologetic.
“Miss, I’m sorry for your wait. Mister Graham is often late. I find whatever time he tells you to arrive somewhere, it is perhaps best to get there twenty minutes later. Minimum. May I get you an appetizer in the meantime?” he says with a gracious smile.
Who am I to say no to some calamari?
Within five minutes, a huge plate of perfectly breaded calamari is in front of me, and I am digging into it as I’ve never eaten before in my life. Just when I am shoving another piece of delicious calamari smothering in marinara sauce into my mouth, I then notice Zachary standing over me. His trademarked amused grin is starting to get old.
“Do I need to get you an advance on your paycheck? When was the last time you ate?”
I wipe some sauce from the corner of my mouth and take a slug of water to dry and wash down my embarrassment. “I didn’t have time to eat breakfast. And you were late.”
He sits down across from me and waves at the waiter to get his attention. “Traffic. Are you only drinking water?”
I shrug as the waiter hurries up to the table. Zachary gives him a warm smile. “Can you bring us a bottle of the Chateau Lianne, ’89? Chilled, please.”
I don’t know much, but I know wine from 1989 can’t possibly be cheap. I would argue, telling him anything of such expense would be lost on me, but I’m not exactly here to be doing him any favors. Him or his sexy cheekbones, or those washboard abs I can just see through his t-shirt…
Stop that, Ava. Jesus. Get in the game. You are not here to ogle. Focus, give him your biggest smile. Make him think you’re interested. Then break his heart. Game plan.
I realize Zachary is watching me, so I snap myself back to reality. “How did the meeting go? Was it about Bethany?”
He nods. “In fact, it was. I’ve been mulling over some ideas for her ‘coming out party,’ so to speak. And I was running over options with our accountants, and my travel agent.”
The waiter brings the wine and pours two perfectly equal glasses. I take a long sip, and the heady floral flavor goes straight to my head immediately. It’s delicious and unlike anything I’ve ever tasted in my life. And it almost distracts me from something that Zachary said.
“Did you say travel agent? Why in the world would you need a travel agent for any party?”
Zachary reaches into his satchel and pulls out a pair of giant old man glasses that somehow just make him look sexier. Then he reaches back into his bag and grabs a stack of papers, then slides a stack of brochures across the table. They are for luxury resorts in places like Fiji, Antigua, Cabo, Turks & Caicos, and South Padre Island. I look through them, and each one is more gorgeous and posh than the last. I don’t fully understand what he’s planning.
“Well, when we plan these parties for our clients, we like to go all out, within some semblance of the reason of course. Obviously, this is all on our dime with the intention that we will get a return on our investment in the long. But I want to do everything we can afford to do for Bethany. I think she is an extraordinary talent, and this will be a great way to really get people to pay attention to her in a captive setting.”
I scan the brochures again and am a little overwhelmed at what I’m seeing. Each resort has beautiful private villas, five-star dining, private beaches… Sending one person to any of these locations would cost thousands of dollars. But packing up a ton of industry insiders and bringing them all to an island, then paying to put them all up for a weekend? I drink down the rest of my wine in one slug.
“Zachary, I know I’m just a lowly intern, but I am having trouble understanding how you can pull this off and not spend far more money than it’s worth. Couldn’t you just do something in Malibu and save a ton of cash?”
Zachary pours me another glass of wine, and watch as the muscles of his bicep flex when he reaches across the table. Why is he so sexy? Why is this wine making me so stupid?
“That’s an excellent question, Ava, and one with two answers,” Zachary says as he refills his own wine glass and gestures for a second bottle. How much is this costing him? “It’s not as cost prohibitive as you might think. Whichever resort we decide on, I will talk with them about setting up some sort of promotions deal. For a small investment on their part up front, I will promise them that one of my bigger clients will vacation at their resort and we’ll have some pictures leaked to the paparazzi. That’s free promotion for them, and their business will increase tenfold. It’s a win-win.”
The waiter returns to take our orders, and Zachary orders two of ‘the usual.’ Normally, I’d be annoyed that someone had ordered for me, but I suspect that he knows all of the best food here, and may even have access to food that isn’t on the menu. Once the waiter leaves, I fill in the unspoken follow-up.
“And what is the second answer?”
Zachary grins. “I won’t pull it off. You are.”
I drop the piece of bread in my hand and then try to recover, but fail. “What are you talking about? I’m a law student, not a party planner.”
“You’re still going to help me with the business things which need to be done. But I also want you to spearhead this project. Based on your history, I’m confident you can multitask, and I can already tell you’re smarter and more trustworthy than anyone else I have working in my office. I think you’ll make the right decisions, and I think Bethany will trust you. Those are the two most important things to me right now. I’d like to be honest with you if that is something that is okay?”
I lean forward, intrigued. Are we already progressing to this phase? So quickly? “Of course, Zachary. I’d like to think you can trust me with anything, including your honesty.”
He nods. “My brother, and my partner Shawn? They are more ‘bottom-line’ guys. They have never believed in my concept for a full-service law firm that focuses on a client’s career from top to bottom. I think this is our chance to prove to them that being lawyers is about more than signing contracts and making money. I’ve been focusing my client base on women, and people from underrepresented minority groups,
trying to get them the attention that they don’t often get from record companies. If we can cultivate their careers, and help them get that focused attention, I think we could make a real difference in changing the face of the music industry.”
There is no way that I can control the look of absolute shock on my face. In my wildest dreams, I never would have expected that Zachary’s firm was to offer support to people from groups struggling for attention in the very shallow music industry. “I didn’t know that you…”
Zachary shrugs. “I don’t make a big deal about the things I do. Shawn is the one who issues a press release every time he drops a quarter in a charity jar. I don’t want people paying attention to me. I’d rather them focus on the cause.”
Who IS this man?
“Okay, so what do you want me to do?” I ask, suddenly more interested in helping Bethany than I thought was initially possible.
“I want you to research these places. The travel agent thinks they’ll be the most receptive to a deal because they’re fairly new and looking for some promotion. Then you’ll need to organize everything, contacting record company’s and finding the people who would be a best potential fit for Bethany. And the last step is to book everything! Do you think you can handle that while doing some light casework?”
I’m just about to answer when two waiters walk up carrying our lunch. Each plate contains a perfectly cooked piece of filet mignon, with sides of hand-cut French Fries tossed in parmesan and garlic, asparagus fritti, and wild mushrooms. Zachary keeps talking, about Bethany, about his work, about his other clients, but all I can do is eat, relishing each bite of the delicious food. I have never, in my life, tasted anything so delicious, and I’m confident I couldn’t even focus on an elephant performing an interpretive dance in the middle of the restaurant. Suddenly, my plate is completely empty, and I realize Zachary is staring at me again.
“Seriously, I feel compelled to ask. Do you not have access to food? Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing I love more in this world than a woman with a healthy appetite. But you’re starting to worry me,” he says as he pushes away his half-eaten steak. I would be lying if I said I didn’t consider asking him if I could finish it, but I don’t want to compound his concern.
“I have food. But I also love food. And when you put amazing food in front of me, I’ll eat. I’m not the woman who will suck on ice cubes and eat a piece of kale just so a man doesn’t think she eats,” I say as I use a piece of bread to sop up the liquid from the wine-infused mushrooms. Zachary just grins at me.
“Well, that is good to know. Because I hate eating alone, and I loathe kale. I’ll start bringing you with me as my companion to business dinners, instead of the usual models my brother insists on setting me up with.”
My heart aches when he says that because I think of my sister. She was stunning and could have easily been a model. I had a feeling that she was lending herself out, doing “girlfriend experience” thing for rich men, but she would never confirm it. Could that have been how she met Zachary? And if it was, were they really dating at all? I also can’t help but wonder if something was missing from her story about Zachary because the man I am seeing in front of me right now… he just doesn’t seem like the man who would intentionally hurt anyone. I feel utterly conflicted, and like I don’t know what is happening anymore. What did Josie leave out of this story?
Zachary waves a hand at the waiter, who rushes back over.
“Mike, can you get another filet plate wrapped up for Miss Webber to go? She enjoyed your food so much, I think she should get to enjoy it again later.”
I make a move to argue, but he shakes his head at me. “Listen, we don’t pay our interns nearly enough, and with all the work you’re about to do, you deserve it. Now go home, take the rest of the day to research these places, and we can reconvene tomorrow, 9 am, to go over what you’ve learned.”
“So, 9:30 or ten?” I ask with a smile.
“You’re learning fast.”
Zachary winks at me with his gorgeous sparkling eyes, and I feel even more confused than I did before.
Chapter Three
I wake up the next morning, and I can’t believe anything that happened the day before. Not only has Zachary entrusted me with this massive project, but I am starting to see a side to him that I never expected in a million years. I don’t know who to believe; the story my sister told me, or what I see with my own eyes when I look at Zachary.
The truth is, my sister never had an easy life. When our parents died, something changed in her. She was eighteen and suddenly forced to take on the responsibility of raising a teenager when she was just a kid herself. But she’d always struggled with her mental health, yet she’d never admitted anything was wrong. So, Josie fought on her own, and I don’t think it’s a battle she ever fully conquered. Because of it, I don’t know how I can ever be sure of what she went through with Zachary, without asking him directly. And I know I can’t do that. Not yet.
I reach over and take a picture of Josie and me off my bedside table. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life, and we could look more different. Josie had gorgeous, natural red hair, huge sapphire blue eyes, and cheeks the were perpetually rosy against her alabaster skin. The only thing we had in common was our hourglass figures, but where Josie was ridiculously tall, I’m considered short for my body type. With my blonde hair and brown eyes, you’d never have assumed Josie and I were sisters, except for the fact that our laughs were the same, and we always had each other’s back.
As I look at the picture of my sister, I miss her so much it hurts. I want nothing more than to do something to make up for what happened to her. But the more time I spend around Zachary, the more I can’t help but wonder how things went down between them. Or how much Josie was aware of in her final moments, or what was fabricated in her mind if things were bad for her when she died.
I get to the office at 9 am, despite the fact I know Zachary will be late, and I start putting together a quick presentation on everything I found out the night before about the resort options he gave me. Every resort was amazing, with incredible amenities that made them seem irresistible. But in the end, I decided that The Hummingbird on Turks & Caicos was the best bet.
The Hummingbird is on its own tiny island in Turks & Caicos, and it’s new, so it’s been looking for some way to get a promotion. The island features a main hotel that encompasses all of the restaurants, ball rooms, and meeting spaces, beach houses, villas, and ten private estates scattered all over the island. There would be room for not only the record executives to have their own individual villas, but for Zachary and whoever else comes with him to have their own houses for the weekend. No matter where you stay, each accommodation is equipped with huge soaking tubs, private pools, king-sized beds, and views of the ocean from almost every angle. There is no way that any reasonable person wouldn’t be totally charmed by the resort, and by extension, Bethany.
I’m pulling pictures of the resort, all of the estates and villas, as well as the ball rooms where we could hold parties for Bethany when Zachary walks in. He’s wearing a black pin-striped button-down shirt, gray pants, and a loose-fitting, thin gray tie. I’m sitting in his desk chair again, but he doesn’t tease me this time. He just sits down across from me in the client chair and leans forward on the desk, his full, curious eyebrows practically wiggling with excitement.
“So, I did some research myself last night, and I think I know exactly where we should hold this event.”
My stomach drops. Are you kidding me? After all the work I did? The slideshow? The swipe transitions?
“The Hummingbird, on Turks & Caicos,” he says, his luscious lips curling up into a satisfied smile. I just burst out laughing.
“What? What’s so funny? Is it a bad idea?”
I turn the computer around and show him the first page of my slideshow, with the logo for The Hummingbird and a photo of the main hotel. He laughs too and then winks at me. “Great minds, as they
say. Did you contact them?”
“Not yet, but I did the research. They opened six months ago, and they’re having trouble selling people on the luxury nature of it, and getting people to pay for the rental houses. So, I think if you get one of your higher-profile clients to vacation in one of the estates, they will jump at anything you offer them. Plus, this place is stunning. If Bethany isn’t signed to a record company by the end of the first day, I will be shocked.”
Zachary gives me an impressed nod. “You’ve done your homework, Miss Webber. I’ll call the resort and see what I can negotiate. Your next job is to start contacting record executives, anyone you think would be a good fit for Bethany. Open with the party. Tell them we’re planning an event at an exclusive resort in the Caribbean for an up-and-coming artist. It’s an opportunity they wouldn’t want to miss. Stress ‘all expenses paid.’ I trust you to make the right calls on who to bring. Hopefully, by the end of the day, we can get this all sorted out!”
I bristle a little more obviously than I mean to. “The end of today? You want all of this done by the end of today? Can this be where I remind you that I’m a law student and I’ve never done any of this before?”
