by Alisha Rai
“She’s going to be disappointed.”
“We can work some editing magic, probably, and cobble together a few minutes, at least, of you two looking at each other like you were enjoying each other’s company.” She hesitated. “Or at least, not actively disliking and boring each other.”
“You know, my friend Harris, he mentioned that I may be out of practice when it comes to dating. It’s possible he got in my head? That’s the only explanation.” It was true, he hadn’t dated for a long time. But he’d broken the seal with Rhi months ago. That Night hadn’t felt so weird and awkward. When they hadn’t been talking in that dark bar, they’d sat in comfortable silence, their knees pressing together.
Speaking of whom . . .
“Can you edit out the part where I called her by the wrong name?” he asked grimly.
Tina winced. “Yeah, that probably wasn’t your smoothest move. In your defense, Rachel and Rhi do both, um, start with the same letter.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face, then remembered that the makeup artist had blotted something on him to mystically create shadows where there were none. He used the towel to wipe the brown makeup off his palm.
“Also, you’d just seen her. Easy to misspeak.” Then, more casually, she said, “I didn’t realize you and Hunter were so close. I heard your interview when you were at CREATE, your rapport was good, but you, like, know each other otherwise?”
“Uh, yes. We’re . . .” Friends? Exes? Neither of those terms really fit, and something made him viscerally cringe away from using the word colleague as lightly as Rhi had. “We know each other. From before. Somewhere else.”
Curiosity brightened her eyes, but Tina only nodded. “Ah, gotcha. What did she want? How did she even know you were here?”
“I had some questions for her, at the conference,” he lied. “She was kind enough to come by and talk to me in person. You know, since I’m new to the industry.”
Tina raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve never heard her called kind.”
“What have you heard her called?” His tone may have been a bit sharp, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what she’d said.
Specifically, why did she fear Annabelle thinking poorly of her? What had her former employer said about her? And why?
He knew how rumors and backstabbing and blacklisting worked. This wasn’t something he could google. And even if he could, he wouldn’t want to. They’d made a pact.
“I stay pretty isolated from the industry, too, working with Belle on behind-the-scenes stuff for as long as I have. I don’t know Rhiannon personally, but I’ve heard she’s a shark.” Tina perked up. “Actually, that’s not quite right. I’ve also heard she’s a fantastic and fair employer. Not always easy to find.”
I play fair. “Fair is a good word for her.” No wonder his behavior had so bothered her. It hadn’t been fair.
He’d felt like a million pounds had lifted off him when she’d accepted his apology. Oh, she was still clearly and obviously wary of him, but at least she knew what had motivated his ghosting.
Closure.
Whatever had brought her to him, he’d take. He’d shoot Belle an email in Australia when he got home and hope that his aunt would respond somewhat soon. He didn’t know what Belle would do with regard to Rhi wanting to buy Matchmaker, but it cost him nothing to put the message through. He owed it to his colleague.
She hadn’t felt like his colleague when he’d stood behind her, when he’d brushed his arm against hers.
That spark of attraction had started a heat low in his belly, a heat he’d thought he’d banked when she’d run away from him. No wonder he’d been too distracted to properly talk to poor Rachel.
He still wanted Rhi.
“She’s pretty too. Prettier in person. You two seemed comfortable with each other. We’ll find you someone we can replicate that with.” Tina came to her feet. “Too bad you can’t date her.”
“Yeah—” He stopped. Tina had already turned away and was walking to the door.
“If we can’t edit you and Rachel, we’ll trash tonight’s footage. I’ll see who the next girl is on the list,” Tina said, over her shoulder.
Too bad you can’t date her.
There were a few milliseconds before someone hit your body with the full force of theirs, when the world narrowed to nothing but the other person. He was there, in that tense, panting moment. “Things may not go any better with the next woman we find on Matchmaker.”
She stopped and gave him a sympathetic look. “One bad date can make you feel that way, I know. We can expand past entertainment people. It might give you a wider net. You can also work on your acting skills before the next meetup.” She rested her hip against the back of a chair. “What’s the last great date you had? Pretend your next date is her.”
The last great date he’d had.
He thought about sitting next to Rhi in that dive bar. That heart-pumping, soul-destroying connection.
The truth came upon him like a body blow.
Rhi may have gotten closure, but he hadn’t. That connection was still there, the connection that had urged him to beg her for a second date, even though he’d known she was a tourist in his beach town.
I don’t want to get together with you again.
That was what closure implied, huh? That she was done.
“That’s it. Like that.” Tina made a square with her fingers and peered through it. “Whatever feeling’s making you look like that.”
His brain churned. He wanted to help Belle vis-à-vis this campaign.
Rhi wanted to use him for his connection to his aunt.
He wanted to see Rhi again. Maybe as more than colleagues. No. Definitely as more than colleagues. It didn’t have to be for forever, forever was terrifying. What fell between colleague and happily ever after?
Lovers. Temporary bedmates. Platonic friends. Lots of things.
Why couldn’t they all get what they wanted?
Why should he have to remember his last great connection? When they could re-create it, exactly. “Can you actually stay for a little bit? And get marketing and William on the phone. I have an idea.”
Chapter Ten
YOUR MOTHER’S on the phone, and she said if you don’t answer, she’s going to start posting your most embarrassing baby photos on ‘the Facebook,’ one every hour until you pick up.”
Rhi looked up from her laptop. She was curled in the window seat of her office. “Did you give her that idea?”
Lakshmi shrugged. She was wearing a rose gold crop top and overalls today. “I like your mom.”
“Everyone does.” Rhi rolled her eyes and held up her hand, catching the vintage pink phone headset Lakshmi threw into it. They had normal phones, but since Rhiannon used her desk as a catchall more than an actual workspace, this was how she did her business. This or her cell.
She put the earpiece on. “What’s up, Ma?”
“Young lady, you are avoiding me.”
Rhi cringed. She might be thirty-seven years old, but young lady always made her want to look for the closest cupboard to hide in. “I’m not.” She was.
“Your brother responds to all my phone calls and texts immediately, you know.”
Because Gabe is perfect.
That was unfair. Her little brother was far from perfect, but he was filled with an innate sweetness Rhi lacked. Sweet, kind, and loyal. Yeah, Gabe was sweet, kind, and loyal to a T.
Gabe understood both Sonya and Rhi. He kept in constant contact with their mother, happy to talk to her for an hour or more about nothing, and he kept his texts to Rhi short and to the point and with purpose. He truly was a code-switching saint, able to make his way through any situation.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“I know.” Sonya’s voice softened. “I heard CREATE was a success. I listened to the livestream of your interview. Thank you for having Lakshmi send me the link.”
Rhi wondered if she could give Lakshmi an
other raise. The woman just went ahead and did brilliant things like facilitate her relationship with her mother. “You’re welcome.”
“You did sound a little tired, though. Are you taking those vitamins I sent you?”
Rhi narrowed her eyes. She had been tired after a sleepless night fretting over Samson, yes, but how had her mother figured that out? Was she a wizard? “Of course I’m taking the vitamins,” she lied.
Sonya clucked. “You’re lying.”
“I am not.”
“I’m going to have Lakshmi put them in your coffee.”
“Well, then, you’ll double-dose me and I’ll die,” she snapped. “Is that what you want? To kill me via CoQ10?”
Sonya’s voice was frigid. “Watch your tone, Rhiannon Claire.”
Her mother invoking both names was worse than calling her a young lady. At what age, Rhiannon wondered, would she stop feeling the need to ram right up against her mother’s limits? “Apologies,” Rhiannon said.
“Hmph.” Sonya thought for a second. “It’s a little vacation you need. You could go to the beach.”
Rhi looked out the window. Crush operated out of a small tucked-away two-story building, surrounded by other start-ups. Her office overlooked a green courtyard. “I live in California. I can go to the beach whenever I want.”
“When was the last time you went to the beach, Rhiannon?”
She pulled her sleeves down to cover her hands. When I met Samson.
She felt a little bit like a sucker, for not hating him, for believing him so easily. But it was fine if she didn’t hate him, so long as she didn’t go and sleep with him again.
You don’t give zombies second chances. “I went to the beach last month,” she said. One of their employees had had a baby shower at a waterfront restaurant with a big patio.
“Sandy’s baby shower doesn’t count.”
“Do you have cameras planted on me?”
“Don’t need them,” her mother said. “I know you.”
Rhiannon imagined her mother in the kitchen of her comfortable Chicago home, a concerned frown creasing her still-smooth forehead, her hair in braids. Sonya had used to put similar braids in Rhiannon’s hair when she was a kid. Her mom had always made them too tight, pulling at her scalp, making her feel too restricted and hemmed in.
Rhiannon leaned her head back against the cushioned pink window seat. “I’ll take a break soon,” she said. She would. She’d go off somewhere and enjoy a nice day or two off.
Or a half day. A couple hours?
“I worry about you, Rhi.”
Guilt crawled through her, that same vague sense of guilt she always felt around her mom. Objectively, there was no reason for that guilt. Her mother had never made her and Gabe feel bad about the fact that she’d worked so hard to support and raise them. Even if she had, Rhi had paid her back for that a million times over.
Still, that guilt remained, a guilt millions of dollars couldn’t wash away, and she wasn’t even sure she could ever pinpoint its exact cause.
Her mother liked the money, but Rhiannon bet she’d like having a daughter she understood better. “I’m fine. Is there a reason you called?”
“I wanted to make sure you’d booked your travel for Gabe and Eve’s engagement party.”
She made a face. Travel arrangements were not her strong suit. “It’s so far away, don’t worry.”
“It’s barely a month away. There are some excellent deals right now.”
Travel was something Sonya liked to do with her trust fund. Rhi didn’t begrudge her one mile, and urged her mom to travel first class to wherever in the world she wanted to go, but the older woman had become something of a budget flight hound. Every day she perused the airline deals. “Cool. I’ll book it. Later.”
“Rhiannon.”
Rhi sighed. “I’ll tell my assistant, Mom.” Lakshmi would be bewildered at her planning something more than a week out, but she’d get it on her calendar properly.
“Tell her now, before fares go up.”
“I will tell her as soon as I get off the phone, promise.”
“And tell her to buy you a nice dress for the party. She has such good taste.”
Rhiannon gritted her teeth. “I will definitely not do that.” She looked down at her worn cotton sweatpants and old sweatshirt. When she was younger, her mother had always tried to stuff her in dresses and sparkly shirts.
Rhiannon’s signature look wasn’t an affectation. It was a necessity, a thing that made her feel comforted and secure. “I wasn’t raised in a barn. I have acceptable clothes to wear.”
“I love you, Rhiannon.”
Another flood of guilt. “I love you, too, Ma.” She paused. “I’m sorry I don’t call you more.”
“I would tell you to remember to call me every day but I know you won’t do that. Call me at least once a week so I can stop talking to all your friends,” Sonya instructed her. “And that way, you know I’m still alive. I’m not getting any younger, you know. I could break a hip and lie on the floor for days and you wouldn’t even know.”
“I would know,” Rhiannon murmured. Her mom might have a network of well-meaning spies in Lakshmi and Katrina, but Rhiannon quietly kept tabs on her mother’s credit cards and bank accounts. If her paper trail ever varied or went silent for longer than a day, Rhiannon either checked up on her or had Gabe do it.
She and her mom were more alike than either of them wanted to admit. Wasn’t that a scary thought?
“What was that?” Sonya asked.
“Uh, nothing. Yeah, I will call you. Sorry to make you worry, Ma.” She hung up as Lakshmi appeared in her doorway. “If my mother tells you to dose me with vitamins, please don’t.”
Lakshmi cocked her head. “So does this mean I stop crushing vitamin D into your peanut butter sandwiches, or . . . ?” When Rhi narrowed her eyes, her assistant shook her head. “J/k. Hey, so, someone’s here to see you.”
“To see me?” They didn’t have the kind of business where she got visitors. Any meetings were usually scheduled well in advance. She rose from the window seat.
Lakshmi glanced over her shoulder, then slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. “Samson Lima? The football guy?”
Her heart stopped for a second, then started again. In that second, she made an aborted motion to tidy her hair, but stopped herself. “Oh. Uh.”
Lakshmi’s gaze lingered on her hand. When her eyes met Rhiannon’s again, there was a glimmer of understanding there.
One that Rhiannon did not want to see. “You know I asked him to get ahold of Annabelle for me,” Rhiannon said sharply. “He must have received some news.”
“Uh-huh.” Lakshmi crossed the soft pink carpet to stand in front of her. She grasped Rhiannon’s chin in her hand, tilted her face up, and eyed her critically. Then she reached into the purse she wore on her hip and pulled out two tubes.
“What are you doing? I don’t need any makeup.” Rhiannon didn’t jerk her face out of Lakshmi’s hand, even though it would have been easy enough to do so.
“You’re absolutely right, you don’t. You’re pretty stunning no matter what. But you went to fix your hair when I told you who was here, which tells me you’re not totally secure in how you look right this minute. Let me help you feel confident.”
Rhiannon didn’t protest anymore. In fact, she closed her eyes, letting Lakshmi put a coat of mascara on her lashes and quickly line and fill her lips in. Lakshmi took a step back and gave her a sweet smile. “Feel better?”
Rhiannon nodded. She didn’t wear much makeup, but here was another layer. Lakshmi always knew what she needed. “Send him in.”
When Lakshmi left, Rhiannon darted to her desk. She sat, opened the drawers, shoved the stacks of paper into them, and then arranged a notepad and a pen on the empty surface.
When the door opened again, Samson’s huge form following Lakshmi in, Rhiannon leaned back in her leather chair, twining a pen between her fingers. She nodded at Lakshmi, dismissing
her, then raised a cool eyebrow at Samson. “What a surprise,” she said loudly as the door closed. Hopefully Lakshmi heard that.
He smiled, his eyes as warm as they’d been when she’d accosted him in that garden. So warm she dropped the pen. Damn it.
“I’m sorry to bother you at work.” He sat down in the chair opposite her desk, adjusting his big body in the smaller pink chair. He glanced around her office curiously, and she tried not to bristle and guard her domain like a feral dog.
She was aware her office didn’t look like what people expected from her. Crush’s signature colors, sherbet pink and bright yellow, dominated. From the second a person walked into this building, Rhiannon had wanted them to feel like they were in a cheerful bowl of candy.
Her furniture was small and dainty, chosen more for aesthetics than sturdiness. It did mean that she curled up in her window seat to work more often than not, but that was fine. She had never really owned delicate furnishings. Working for other employers, she’d always had to be on guard against displaying her femininity for fear they would think she wasn’t tough.
Here it didn’t matter. No one could judge her for how she decorated her office because she answered to no one.
She shrugged. “I bothered you at work a few days ago.”
He crossed one leg over the other. Gone was the suit he’d worn for his date; he was back in worn jeans and a long-sleeved ribbed shirt. The sunny yellow of his shirt made his skin pop a warmer brown. “So you did. That’s actually why I’m here.”
She sat up straighter. “You talked to your aunt.”
“No, Aunt Belle hasn’t returned my message yet. Hopefully soon.”
She deflated a little. “Oh.”
“But, in the meantime, I wanted to talk to you about another proposition.” He glanced over his shoulder, and she followed his gaze. The panels on either side of her door were glass, and she rolled her eyes when she saw at least five of her employees, Lakshmi included, loitering at a desk within view of the both of them. “Do you mind if I . . . ?” He gestured at the glass.
She nodded and he walked to the door, closing the blinds with two snaps, making the small office more intimate. She settled deeper into her chair, pressing her palms over her belly to calm some of her butterflies.
