by Layla Hagen
"I needed more flexibility for my siblings," I tell Christopher honestly.
"Got it. So, what are the next steps?"
"Which of my pitches didn't you like?" I've found that the easiest way through this is to eliminate the choices that don't fit the client’s taste.
He doesn't miss a beat. "The third and fourth one."
Interesting. Those proposals were modern and minimalistic, the way his office is. I assumed they'd be his favorites. Then again, it's possible he didn't choose the furniture in his office. The multi-story office building exuded power in a way that wasn't ostentatious, but rather spoke of quiet, bone-deep strength. It was elegant too, with its sleek surfaces and minimalist designs.
"And which one did you like most?"
"I liked elements from all the other proposals, but I can't single out one I liked best."
In short, he still doesn't know what he wants, but that's normal at this stage. Sitting again in front of the coffee table, I make some mental notes, my mind already bursting with ideas for his apartment.
"The next step would be for you and me to look through furniture and design catalogs together," I inform him. "This will give both of us a better idea what you want. I can mark some items I think you'd like in advance, but it's really best if we take an hour or two to comb through those catalogs. I can bring them to your office. When do you have time this week?"
"I have back-to-back meetings every day, but I can do Thursday after seven o'clock."
Damn. One of my unique selling propositions is that I'm flexible, trying to accommodate the clients as much as possible, but as a rule, I don't do any meetings after six. The kids and I make a point of eating dinner together, like a family, and I don't want to change that.
"Is four or five o'clock possible on any day? I can also come up early in the morning."
"Afraid not. As I said, my schedule is packed.”
I carefully consider my next words. Twice I’ve had the unpleasant surprise of clients dropping me when they found out about my siblings. They thought I wouldn’t be able to commit one hundred percent to their project. But I have a hunch Christopher isn’t like that. His sisters weren’t either. I adored working for Alice, as well as for Pippa and her husband, Eric. They were a true team, and the love between them was so apparent, I often felt like a third wheel.
At any rate, Christopher saw me arrive with Chloe today. If he’d thought the kids are in my way of committing to his project, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I decide to go out on a limb and be honest.
“The kids and I eat at six thirty every evening, and I—”
“Say no more,” Christopher cuts in. “That’s nice. When I was a kid, we used to have a designated dinnertime too. It really helped keeping things in check. I’ll tell you what. I’ll drop by your house one evening after dinner, if that’s okay with you?”
Wow. No client has offered this before. Warmth fills me, relaxing my limbs.
“Perfect. Thank you. I do have a designated area for my home office. But in the interest of honesty, I rarely receive clients here. The kids haven’t fully grasped the concept of quiet.”
“They’re kids. If they’re quiet, something’s wrong. Don’t worry!” Christopher laughs a lovely, melodic sound.
“When do you want to stop by?”
“Thursday okay?”
“Sure. Shoot." In my enthusiasm, I flapped my free hand a little too energetically, hitting the glitter bottle. I catch it right before it lands on the carpet. “Glitter disaster averted.”
“What?”
“Chloe’s going as the Mad Hatter to a preschool thing, and I’m making her a glittery hat, and… now I’m rambling. Sorry.” Biting my lower lip, I barely suppress a groan. “I seem to have the tendency of making a fool of myself when you’re involved. First the hot chocolate, now this. But I do promise I’m a consummate professional.”
Christopher is silent for so long, I fear he’s about to serve me a line like “I think I’ll find myself another decorator” when he bursts out laughing. “You’re something, Victoria. For the record, the Mad Hatter is a great costume idea. I never had better ideas than a zombie, vampire, and pirate.”
“Really? I had the craziest costume ideas. Things took a turn for the unoriginal toward the end of high school though. I dressed up as sexy bunny one year for Halloween just to spite my parents.” I realize one second too late what I just said and how this doesn’t belong in a professional conversation at all. Me and my big mouth, damn it. “Right… I seem to go from bad to worse tonight. How about ending this call, so I can keep up any pretense of seriousness?”
“Bad idea. I’d like to continue this conversation. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while.”
“Me too,” I reply honestly, feeling an instant kinship with him.
“So you were something of a wild child?”
“Exactly. My parents were great people, and I was still a terrible kid. To be honest, my wild side persisted up until college. Then I had to tuck it away, step up, and be all serious. I gave my mom and dad white hair. I mean… I didn’t do dangerous stuff, just crazy enough to cause trouble.”
“Ah, you’re a girl after my own heart.” His low tone awakens a deep and powerful longing inside me, and I do my best to ignore it. “What was the craziest thing you did?”
“Once we were vacationing in Texas, and my best friend was with us. We snuck out at night and went swimming. Mom almost had a heart attack. And she didn’t even know the worst part. We went skinny-dipping.” And cue my return to inappropriate lane. This man has a dangerous effect on me.
“Do you still go skinny-dipping? If yes, I’m in dire need of swimming lessons. Actually, I’d settle for you wearing your sexy bunny costume while teaching me.”
I let out an audible breath, heat spearing me at this unexpected turn of the conversation. Yeah, in his office, I suspected his humor is the kind that’s sprinkled with inappropriate comments, but I have an inkling that was just a preview.
“Sorry, I was out of line,” he says.
“Yes, but I did bring up those topics, so… we were both misbehaving. Can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Please think up some wildly inappropriate childhood stories and share them with me on Thursday. I feel like I’m at a distinct disadvantage here.”
Yet again, his laughter fills the air, and before I know it, I’m grinning ear to ear too. “You’ve got it. So how inappropriate are we talking? Just funny, white-hair-inducing for my parents, or…?"
He doesn't finish the sentence, but his meaning is clear. I fear I’ve unleashed the inappropriate side of him with my incessant rambling.
"Funny will do," I say, and my voice doesn't sound quite right.
"Great. See you on Thursday. Also, and I'm just putting this out there, I wouldn't mind seeing that sexy bunny outfit someday if you still have it."
"You're a bad man, Christopher."
"I suppose it would be unwise for me to add that I wouldn't mind seeing you wear it?" He says this with the slightest hint of laughter in his voice, but I can picture his luscious mouth curled up at one side, his dark eyes full of mischief and lust. Damn, damn, damn.
"Very unwise, Mr. Bennett."
"We're back to Mr. Bennett? Let's end this call before I become so inappropriate that you call me something ridiculous like Sir or Your Highness."
Oh God. This man is hilarious, and I could talk to him for hours. Which is precisely why this is the best time to end the call.
"See you on Thursday, Christopher. Have a good night."
"You too."
After the line goes dead, I focus on the hat again. It's been a long time since I had so much fun talking to someone. A thought nags at the back of my mind that I should keep things professional. Christopher Bennett isn't a friend, he's a client, and I've learned the hard way that crossing professional boundaries can have dire consequences.
Besides, I’m the girl with the plan, alw
ays have been. Before my parents passed away, the plan was to rise to the top of the career chain in a design and decoration company, and when I'd achieved that, I'd focus on my private life. Now the plan is to give Lucas and Chloe a happy childhood, like the one Sienna and I had, and focus on raising them. My personal life will have to wait.
I focus on the hat again, determined to make my sister a kick-ass costume. Still, I can't help grinning as I rewind the conversation in my mind. That man definitely has a great sense of humor and a way of twisting words that leaves my skin simmering.
In his office, he said he's a troublemaker with a capital T these days. I have a feeling trouble doesn't even begin to cover it.
Chapter Three
Christopher
"Hey, brother," Pippa greets me, swinging open the front door to her house. "Come in."
I follow her inside, shrugging off my jacket and putting it on the hanger. My sister's house has the feeling of a home to it, which is what I hope Victoria will achieve with my apartment. The rental I'm currently living in feels like a hotel, and I can't wait to move out. The house is oddly quiet given that twin three-month-old babies, Pippa's husband, and his thirteen-year-old daughter, Julie, all live here. From my previous visits, I know the odds of everyone being quiet at the same time are slim.
"Are Julie and Eric home?"
"Nah, Eric's picking up Julie from a friend’s house. They'll be home in about an hour. Are you hungry?" she asks.
"Always."
"You're lucky. I haven't cooked dinner, but Alice brought some goodies from her restaurant."
"Alice is here?"
"Yep, she's with Mia and Elena in my bedroom. She should join us any second though. The twins were almost asleep when I came to open the door."
Damn. I was hoping to catch the twins awake because I haven't seen the little firecrackers in weeks. I'm counting the months—okay, years—until they're old enough to start pranking people. My identical twin Max and I were the family's pranksters as kids. I have to pass on the gift to others. My two oldest brothers, Sebastian and Logan, are married, and Max is engaged, but only Pippa has kids.
As we enter the kitchen, I eye the take-out boxes from Alice's restaurant on the wooden table in the center and attack one right away. Roast duck leg is my favorite dish on Alice's menu. Every time I eat it, I thank my lucky stars Alice decided to go into the restaurant business instead of joining Bennett Enterprises.
My oldest brothers and Pippa founded the company more than a decade ago, and it's become one of the leading players in the high-end jewelry market. Max and I joined the company too, but the rest—Alice; the other set of twins, Blake and Daniel; and the family's baby, Summer—went on different paths. Summer is a painter, Blake opened a bar and Daniel a business that centers around offering customers adventures and extreme sports.
"You didn't tell me why you were stopping by," Pippa says, grabbing a take-out box herself and sitting at the table.
"Are you implying I can't visit just to see you and the girls?"
A few weeks ago, Pippa surprised my brothers and me by suggesting we extend our collections by developing a line of engagement and wedding rings. She's the designer at Bennett Enterprises. Each collection always carried a few models, but we've never focused extensively on those. From a purely business perspective, there were other profitable niches to tackle first. Despite wedding rates going down and divorce rates going up, Pippa insisted love would never go out of style, and Bennett Enterprises could position itself as a leader in the segment. Pippa's exuberance when presenting her vision for the line convinced us all to look into this.
"You were using your business tone when you said you'll stop by," she remarks. My sister's ability to read into everything will never cease to astonish me.
"You're right. It's about your proposal to develop a line of engagement and wedding rings."
Pippa stops chewing, and her eyes widen as if asking, And?
"We researched the market in more detail, and the numbers look promising. We'll go forward with this."
Pippa squeals, jumping from her seat and hugging me. When she pulls back, she's grinning.
"But I have one question, and I want you to be honest. Are you sure you're up to it?" My sister has been working from home since the twins were born three months ago, delegating everything that she could, including some key design aspects. But, I suspect she's still taking on more than she can handle.
"Yes. I'm passionate about this! I know I can do it."
"If you change your mind at any time, let us know. We can always do this later on."
She shakes her head with vehemence. "I'm up to it."
"Okay."
"Christopher!" Alice exclaims, joining us in the kitchen and sitting on the counter. My sisters look nothing alike. While Pippa is tall and blonde, Alice has inherited Mom's small frame and dark brown hair. "How's your apartment coming along?"
"I'll get the keys in six weeks. I had the first meeting with the decorator you two recommended."
"And?" Pippa and Alice ask in unison.
"She seems to know her stuff, sent me a few proposals. I liked them."
"She's a dream to work with," Alice says. "Super efficient and very friendly."
"Very hardworking," Pippa adds. "I love her style too. I wish I could wear as many colors as she does and not look ridiculous, but that takes talent."
Right. I had no clue what they were talking about because I was too busy fantasizing about what's under her clothes. Men don't notice those things anyway. I'm about to point that out when I catch my sisters exchanging glances. Suspicious glances.
When Pippa says, "I have no clue how that woman is still single," I finally catch up with the program and groan.
"Please tell me you didn't recommend me to work with her just to set me up."
"Not just to set you up," Pippa clarifies. "She's really good at what she does."
"I thought you'd give up your matchmaking ways after getting married," I tell Pippa honestly. My sister was married once before, and that ended with a nasty divorce. After that, she had a hand in my oldest brothers getting married, but we all thought matchmaking was a therapy of sorts for her, that she'd give up after she found her own happy ending. Apparently not.
"What gave you that idea?" Pippa says, genuinely shocked. "I had to take a break what with the pregnancy and the birth, but now I'm back in my full capacity as a matchmaker. Alice is my helper."
"Since when did you go over to the dark side?" I ask my other sister.
Alice shrugs. "It's fun."
I wolf down some more roast duck, mystified about not seeing through this before. My mother's ability to read other people has unfortunately only been inherited by my sisters.
"Girls, please stay out of this."
Alice tilts her head in Pippa's direction. "I liked him more when he was clueless. He was a much easier prey."
"But you've been single for so long," Pippa remarks.
"It's not a disease, you know," I deadpan.
"You're not still hung up on Felicity, are you?" Alice asks bluntly. "You two were together for a long time, and then you broke up out of the blue."
Yeah, that's not exactly the whole story. Felicity and I started dating in our senior year of college. A few years later, I thought it was time I proposed. Sure, we were still young, but I could see us building our future together. On our anniversary, I planned a long, romantic evening, which ended with us on the Golden Gate Bridge, me on one knee, popping the big question, and Felicity saying no.
I was dumbstruck. She said something about marriage being like shackles and that she felt it would hold her back from pursuing her dreams. When I asked what those dreams were, she said she didn't know yet, but wanted to discover herself.
Every word felt like a slap. She'd never, not once, shared those thoughts with me. She was a teacher and seemed more than happy with her job. I thought we were building something together. Obviously, I was delusional. She thanked me for
the proposal because it made it clearer that she needed to be alone for a while. Among our irreconcilable differences, she mentioned that I had it all figured out, but she needed to figure herself out, alone. She emphasized the word “alone” a few times more, as if she thought my skull was too thick and she needed to drill the rejection into my brain.
Afterward, I tried to make sense of everything, to gauge if she gave me signs and I had missed them. I came up blank, concluding that women's minds are up there with the world's greatest mysteries.
I never told my family or anyone else that I proposed, because really, my ego can't take any pitying looks.
The opportunity to move to Hong Kong and expand Bennett Enterprises there came up a few months later, and I jumped on it. A change of scenery was just what I needed. Working hours in Hong Kong were long and brutal because we were just starting out there, but I welcomed the workload. It didn't leave me time for much personal life, only casual dating, which was a much-needed change. I intend to keep that change now that I'm back in San Francisco. Casual means superficial, and superficial can't lead to any ego bruising or heartbreak.
"No, I'm not hung up on Felicity," I tell my sisters. "I haven't spoken to her in years."
"Excellent." Alice claps her hands. "You can start fresh, then."
"What are my chances of convincing you to give this a rest?"
"Zero." Pippa smiles sweetly at me. I have come to fear that smile. It usually means she has plans. "But we've done our part, so aside from the occasional nagging, this is up to you."
Yeah, that sounds very reassuring. I do like Victoria; she's fun and gives good banter even when she's trying not to. Not to mention those perfect curves of hers are burned on my retinas. I've had more fun on the phone with her than I’ve had talking to a woman in years. But I have no time or desire for anything more than casual right now, and even though I've only met Victoria once and spoken to her twice, I suspect she's not the type who does that. I wouldn’t try to do casual with a woman who’s raising two kids and a teenager. I’m not an asshole.
Placing my empty take-out box on the table, I say before either of my sisters gets any more dangerous ideas, "I'll be going, then."
