“Katie Cooper.” Addison scoffed. Apparently, that was going to be the sound she made any time she had to say the name of her new personal assistant, because seriously? Was there a more cheerful, more annoyingly happy name in the English language? “Katie Cooper,” she said again. Then scoffed. Again.
When her phone rang a little after seven that night, Addison glanced at the screen and considered not answering. She was still irritated with Sophie and told her so as soon as she hit the green button. “I’m mad at you. What do you want?”
“Please. Get over yourself.” Sophie never did take any of Addison’s shit, and she apparently wasn’t about to start today. “Your mother asked me to be there for moral support.”
“She needed it.”
“Moral support for you, dumbass.” Sophie’s sigh was loud and spoke of years of being put-upon. “Anyway. When Meredith Fairchild asks me to show up someplace, I show up.”
“She always did like you better than me,” Addison said, feeling herself softening toward her best friend. She fought it. She lost.
“Can you blame her? Everybody likes me better than you.”
“True story.”
“How are you feeling?” And just like that, they were back to normal.
“Tired. Not bad, but tired.” It was the truth. The most prominent symptom Addison had experienced since being in the ER was fatigue, which the doctor told her wasn’t unexpected. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Or a train. Or maybe both. First one, then the other.”
There was a beat of silence before Sophie spoke again, and this time, her voice was small. Smaller than Addison had ever heard it. “You scared me, Addie.”
“I know.” Addison swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m aware that this is all annoying for you. Inconvenient. That you just want to get back to work. But…” Sophie cleared her throat and Addison had a moment of wondering if Sophie was about to cry before remembering that Sophie didn’t cry. “I really need you to take better care of yourself. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Because if something happened to you, I’d have to do interviews and then train a new best friend and I don’t have the fucking time or energy for that.”
Addison smothered a smile even as she felt a warmth in heart. “Understood.”
“Good.” They were both quiet for a moment, as if each of them needed some time to regroup. “Do you want me to come by tomorrow when the assistant arrives?”
Addison shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I can handle it.”
“You’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Let her help, Addie.”
“Why does everybody keep saying that?” Addison whined.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer about how stubborn you are.” Sophie’s chuckle was low and throaty. “All right. I just wanted to check on you. Need anything?”
“I’m good.”
“Get some rest. In the bed, not on the couch.”
“God, you’re bossy.”
“I am bossy as fuck. And don’t you forget it.”
They hung up and Addison felt the tiniest bit better. Still not thrilled with the idea of some “assistant” getting in her way and interrupting her workday, she decided to set that aside for the time being. She at least had tomorrow morning to work on her own, as Katie Cooper wouldn’t arrive until after noon. That would give her some time.
She sighed as she turned to watch the rain. It ran down the windows in long rivulets, creating wavy shapes and light on the hardwood floor. She should go get her laptop from the second bedroom she used as an office and at least answer her email.
Instead, in a completely uncharacteristic move, she readjusted her butt in the couch, slid down a bit, and continued to watch the rain. There was something mesmerizing about it, the gentle rumble on the balcony, the streaks of water reflecting the streetlights on her windows. It was almost relaxing, and she felt her eyelids grow heavy, her muscles relax.
She’d worry about tomorrow when it came.
* * *
When the elevator opened and Katie stepped out, she found herself facing two antique-looking tables that bookended a full-length mirror. On each table was a vase filled with colorful flowers in gorgeous fall hues of orange and red. She leaned toward one bouquet and was surprised to find they were real and fresh, their petals not nearly as scented as spring flowers, but they still gave off an earthiness that, combined with the smell of the two coffees she carried, made for a very pleasant aroma.
Standing in front of the mirror, the wood frame thick and heavy, something dark—cherry, maybe? Mahogany?—she gave herself one last once-over. The tech company Katie’d worked for had a business casual dress code, so she didn’t own a ton of what would be considered strict business clothing, but she did have a couple pairs of black dress pants. She’d put one of them on, added a simple white capped-sleeve T-shirt that she’d dressed up with a black-and-white patterned scarf just like Sam had taught her. “The beauty of a scarf is that it allows you to class up a seven-dollar T-shirt.” She’d also attempted to teach Katie several different complicated knots to achieve different looks, but Katie only remembered one. Now she smoothed it while looking at her reflection, tucked her dark hair behind an ear, adjusted the black laptop bag hanging from her shoulder, and took a deep, nervous breath.
Looking one way, then the other, she chose the direction to apartment 5E and headed toward it, her ballet flats making almost no sound on the thick, burgundy carpet that blanketed the long hallway. Everything about this building screamed “expensive.” The carpet, the crown molding along the ceiling, the ceiling itself, which was white tin. The light fixtures were elaborate without being ornate, both the sconces on the wall every few feet and the small chandeliers hanging above her head. Even the doors to each apartment—tall, made of heavy wood, and accented with deep bronze handles, hinges, and peepholes. They had knockers rather than doorbells, which somehow made them seem even more elegant rather than pretentious.
Katie couldn’t imagine what the rent in a place like this was.
Apartment 5E was at the end of the hall, making it what Katie assumed must be an end unit.
“Nothing to be nervous about,” she whispered to herself. “Nothing at all. You’ve done your research. You’re perfect for this job. Nothing to be nervous about. You’re totally ready.” With a puff of her chest, she shifted both coffees to one side, reached up, and used the bronze knocker on the door. “You’re totally ready,” she repeated to herself.
And she was. She was ready for the organization. She was ready for the phone calls and the scheduling and the emails. She was ready to file and to fetch coffee and to pick up dry cleaning if necessary, although she hoped that wasn’t what her job entailed. Just the idea of getting back into the fast-paced world of business had her psyched. Oh, yeah, she was so ready for this job.
What she was not ready for when the door opened was Addison Fairchild.
Specifically, how much the online photos had not done her any justice. Because, good God, even probably tired and coming off a hospital visit, Addison Fairchild was stunningly beautiful.
Addison stood in the doorway, one hand on the edge of the door, her blue eyes deep and intense, if a little tired looking. Her hair was light brown but with a hint of red, a very flattering color combination that set off her creamy skin and distractingly full lips like she was a work of art and the colors were chosen solely for that purpose. It fell a bit past her shoulders in gentle waves that Katie imagined were silky soft. I mean, probably, right? Look at them. Katie did her best to take in Addison’s outfit without giving the impression she was ogling—which was exactly what she wanted to do. Badly. Black pants, emerald-green long-sleeve shirt that might have been silk, black heels.
“You’re Katie?”
Addison’s voice—deeper and huskier than Katie expected—startled her back to reality. “I am.”
“Come in.” Addison stepped aside and held out an
arm, inviting Katie to enter.
“I was told you were under the weather and that’s why I was hired. I thought you’d be in sweats or something.” A nervous laugh rippled out of her before she could catch it. Damn it. Beautiful women always made her anxious and jumpy.
“You thought wrong.”
Those three words told Katie pretty much all she needed to know about this situation. Mainly that Addison didn’t want her here. Samantha had told her that might be the case, that Addison Fairchild was as stubborn and high-strung as they came. Katie had prepared for that possibility. Sort of.
“Apparently, I did.” Katie smiled widely—too wide? With the intention of shaking Addison’s hand in a proper introduction, she shifted the coffees again.
And promptly dropped one on the floor where it hit the hardwood with a slap and splattered all over Addison’s hardwood floor, entryway rug, and probably super-expensive shoes.
“Oh, God!” Katie cried, working hard to tamp down the approximately seventeen swear words that ran through her head in that moment, each more offensive than the last. Instead, she quickly set the other cup on a nearby side table, dropped to her knees, and whipped off her scarf. Using it to mop up the coffee—not ideal, as there’s a reason they don’t make towels out of nylon—she shook her head. “I’m so sorry. God. I’m such a klutz sometimes.” Her hair fell in her face and she put up with it for about 3.5 seconds before using the elastic band she always had on her wrist and pulling it into a messy bun on top of her head. Addison’s shoes hadn’t moved and finally, Katie ventured a look up.
Addison was gazing down at her, her expression unreadable.
“Um. Do you have some paper towels or something?”
Addison nodded as she turned to go.
“No, no, just tell me where,” Katie said, as she held out a halting hand, stopping Addison. “You’re supposed to be recovering.”
“In the kitchen near the sink.” Addison pointed to her right.
Katie pushed herself to her feet and went in search of the kitchen. Which wasn’t hard to find, as the entire apartment was open-concept, and the kitchen was of the enormous gourmet variety. Pushing past the desire to stand and stare, mouth agape, at the exquisite cherry cabinets and deep gray granite counters, she found the paper towels propped on a brushed nickel holder. “Do you have any cleaner?” she called.
“Under the sink,” came the response.
Back in the living room, Addison had sat, her head visible over the back of the couch. In the entryway sat her shoes, right where she’d been standing, as if she’d simply stepped out of them, left them there, and gone on her merry way.
Katie dropped back down to her knees and finished cleaning up the mess. Everything came clean except the edge of the rug, and Katie cringed at the thought of how much it must be worth. “Um…I’m happy to pay to have your rug cleaned. The coffee stained the edge a little bit. I’m so sorry about that.”
Addison waved a hand without looking, focused instead on the laptop perched on her thighs. “It’s fine.”
Katie carried the dirty towels and cleaner back to the kitchen, then grabbed her messenger bag off the floor where she’d dropped it. The other coffee still sat on the small table near the door, so she snapped that up, too, but carefully. Venturing toward the couch, she set the cup down on the coffee table, being careful to take a coaster from the pile—they had cuddly, happy puppies on them, which seemed incongruous with the rest of the room…and the personality of their owner—and use it. “I brought you a cup of coffee. I wasn’t sure how you took it, so I just got it black.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a handful of creamers and little packets of sugar, set them next to the cup.
Addison’s icy blue eyes moved from the screen to the coffee and stayed there for a few seconds. “What kind?”
Katie cleared her throat. “French roast?”
With an almost imperceptible nod, Addison reached for the cup, leaving the additives untouched. Katie watched her hands, which were small and feminine, as she took the lid off and then lifted the coffee to her lips. She took a sip, closed her eyes as if savoring it. She took another, then glanced up at Katie. “Sit.” Indicating the other end of the couch, she added, “Thank you for this.” She lifted the cup a tad. “I needed it.”
“You’re welcome. And again, I’m so sorry.” Katie took a seat, opened her bag, and took out a pen and a pad of paper.
When Addison turned to look, her gaze fell on the pad and lingered. “What’s that?”
“I’m going to take notes?” Katie heard herself and cringed. She had a bad habit of framing statements as questions when she was nervous or uncertain of herself. It made her sound weak, and weak was the last thing she wanted to be in front of Addison Fairchild. She’d already made a terrible first impression, and she wasn’t about to screw up the rest of the day.
“On paper?” Addison asked the question as if Katie had said she was chiseling notes into a piece of stone.
Katie cleared her throat, another bad habit that projected uncertainty. Forcing confidence into her voice, she told Addison, “I have a laptop in this bag, too. Don’t worry. I just find it faster to jot notes on paper.”
Addison nodded but said nothing further on the subject. “All right, let’s get started.” She patted the couch next to her. “Sit closer, so you can see my screen.”
Katie did as she was asked, and the first thing she noticed about being this close to Addison was that she smelled like sunshine. How that was possible, Katie wasn’t sure. All she knew was that, sitting next to Addison, she detected the scent of wildflowers and coconut and a summer breeze and it all combined to evoke sunshine in her mind. Again, the opposite of the demeanor Addison projected. Katie quietly inhaled. Deeply.
“God, look at all this email.” Addison’s voice was barely a whisper, so Katie assumed she was talking to herself. She scratched at the right side of her neck, leaving angry red marks on the delicate skin there. “I’m so far behind.”
“Can I make a suggestion?” Katie asked.
Addison nodded as she reached for the coffee and took a sip. Katie could hear her swallow.
“I can help you with the email. Just give me a quick and dirty rundown of the basics of your job. I don’t need crazy in-depth details, but a bit more than what I gathered from online research. Just an overview.” She flipped the paper in her pad to a sheet covered with her own handwriting. “I actually have some questions about the business in general and your role specifically. If you can answer them this afternoon, I can go over stuff tonight, put a plan in place, and we can hit the ground running tomorrow.”
Addison’s gaze was focused on her computer screen, but Katie got the impression she was thinking, going over what Katie had said. “I’m not against that.”
Okay, not exactly a ringing endorsement of her suggestion, but Katie would take it.
Addison set the cup back down, then turned to look fully at Katie, those blue eyes boring into hers with an almost palpable intensity. “Look, I don’t know what you were told about this job, but let me give you some facts.” Her tone wasn’t angry or mean. It was simply…firm. Matter-of-fact. Emotionless. It was the tone of a woman used to being listened to. “It’s temporary and you’re only here because my mother—the CEO of Fairchild Enterprises—insisted. I can handle my job. I always have. And despite what she thinks or what you may have been told, I’ve simply had a minor setback, but I will recover in no time. I don’t stay down for long.”
“I understand.” Katie gave one nod. “You allowed me in here under duress.”
Addison squinted at her and the wind seemed to leave her sails, as if she suddenly realized how she’d come across. “Yes. Exactly.”
“If it was up to you, I wouldn’t be here at all.”
Katie was pretty sure Addison Fairchild wasn’t one to hesitate, but she seemed to right then. Barely noticeable, but it was there. “Correct.”
“Got it. Understood.” Fine. If that was how she nee
ded to play this, that was how she would play it. The job may have been only temporary, but the pay was amazing, and Katie needed the money to help her parents. She wasn’t about to give it up because Addison Fairchild’s pride was a little banged up. Katie indicated her pad. “Shall we get started?”
* * *
The Cooper house was so small and modest compared to the wide-open, expensive loft Katie’d spent the afternoon in. But it was also warm and cozy and inviting, and Katie always felt herself relax just a bit once she’d walked through the door. She hung up her coat, set her bag down, and headed into the small kitchen where she could hear her mother moving around.
“Mom, you look exhausted.” It was true. Dark circles. Limp hair. A walk that seemed to have no energy or purpose. Katie pushed her chair back from the small kitchen table. “Let me make you some tea.”
“No, no,” Liz said, waving her off as she set the receiver to the baby monitor they used to listen for her father on the table. “Tonight calls for alcohol.” She opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Riesling, held it up for Katie to see. “Join me?”
“Riesling? Isn’t that sweeter than you like?”
“Hey, it’s a dry Riesling. And it was on sale. And it’s wine.” She didn’t wait for Katie’s response, simply pulled two wineglasses down from the cupboard and filled them. She set one in front of her daughter, then sat down and held up her glass. When Katie touched hers to it, Liz asked, “So? How’d it go?”
“Let’s just say my first impressions need work.”
“What did you drop?” Liz raised her eyebrows in question, knowing her daughter well.
“Coffee.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. All over her beautiful hardwood floor, her leather pumps, and what I have to believe is a very expensive rug.”
Liz grimaced and held her glass up a second time for a second cheering. Katie obliged. “Other than that, how did it go? Was she mad? Was it what you were expecting?”
Katie blew out a breath, gazed off into the distance as she recalled the afternoon. “It was…different. She doesn’t want an assistant. She made that clear.”
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