by Tabatha Kiss
But in a good way.
“Hi, Fiona,” I say with a smile.
“Hey, Mom!” Hayden and Jonah say.
“Hello, Paige. Boys,” she adds for them.
Hayden steps forward. “What’s up? Be as detailed as possible.”
Fiona doesn’t fall for it. She points at the boxes and her sons take the hint. They shuffle over to the stack of boxes and load up their arms to carry as many inside at once as possible.
She stands beside me and crosses her arms as she admires the red, white, blue, and gold ballroom again. “This looks wonderful, Paige,” she tells me.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“No, thank you. I’m sure you have better things to do than organize this.”
I wave a hand. “Eh, it’s my job.”
“I’m pretty sure it was Graham’s job.”
“Right. And part of my job is to make his job easier and seeing as how my options today were planning a party for you or helping Jen with the baby upstairs, I chose the party.”
“With the two babies downstairs,” she adds, a playful jab at Hayden and Jonah.
“Precisely.”
She chuckles. “You’ve always been great at herding cats. Thank you again. This means a lot.”
“You’re very welcome, Senator.”
She gives a look of hope mixed with nervous apprehension, as if she’s about to climb a very tall mountain. “Still a long way to go before we get to that,” she says.
“Well, you have my vote.”
Fiona smiles. “How’s your mother?” she asks.
I swallow. “She’s good,” I answer.
“Well, if you two ever need anything...”
“I know who to call,” I finish with a nod.
She gives my shoulder a quick squeeze before heading into the ballroom.
I grab my clipboard and wander over to the front desk of the lobby to update my to-do list.
Call the caterer? Check!
Nudge Gloria in the kitchen about the cake? Check!
Hang the banner? Check check!
The door to the office hallway opens behind the desk. I instinctively tense as the building manager steps out, but I relax again when I see her bright red hair and big eyes.
There’s a new manager in town.
“Hi, Marla,” I greet.
Marla Botsford, née Gorchinsky, looks up from her own endless list of things to do and smiles. “Hey, Paige.” She plops her elbows on the counter to rest. “How goes it?”
“It goes well.” I smirk. “Not just married a rockstar well, but still well.”
She melts before me and ogles the giant rock on her ring finger. “Don’t remind me or else I won’t get anything done at all today.”
“You’re living the dream, girl.” I point my pen at her. “Just don’t distract Jonah for another hour. I need him to place chairs.”
Marla straightens up. “Got it. I won’t let you down.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything I can help with?”
I glance over my list. “Nope. Just run the building and look pretty.”
She grins. “I think I can handle that. On the outside, anyway. Inside, I’m eternally screaming without the Oli-shaped safety net.”
“They wouldn’t have promoted you to take his place if you weren’t perfect for the job, Mar.”
“I know. I know. It’s just... a lot. You know?”
“Well, I’ve got a gang of Botsford boys ready to be coerced into rolling up their sleeves and helping if you need it.”
She glances toward the ballroom and melts again.
I snap my fingers. “Not Jonah.”
“Okay, fine,” she pouts, then bobs her head over my shoulder. “Hey, Graham.”
I spin around as he approaches the desk from the golden elevators looking a little worn out around the edges in a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans, but that’s been a thing the last couple of weeks ever since the birth of his daughter.
“Hey, boss,” I say with another quick glance at my list to see what to tackle next.
“Hey, Paige.” Graham stops beside me. “How you doing back here, Marla?”
She blows a raspberry. “Piece of cake,” she says. “I’m not at all nervous about ruining everything all the time.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, me neither.”
“A new father and the new CEO? You’re probably a constant ball of stress and...” Marla pauses as Graham’s shadowed face falls a little. “Piece of cake!” she says again.
Graham nods. “You’re doing great,” he says. “Keep it up.”
“Thank you, sir. You, too.”
He shifts in my direction instead. “And you...” He eyes the blue and gold streamers around the lobby. “You did this very quickly.”
I shrug. “Hey, you say throw a party, I throw a party.”
“How did you do this in an hour?” he asks.
“I didn’t. I did it in five hours.”
He blinks his dark-circled eyes. “It’s been five hours?”
I chuckle. “So, how’s Beverly?”
“She’s very loud,” he says. “So much screaming and crying...”
“Yeah, babies do that.”
“But beautiful,” he adds. “She’s the light of my life... while she’s sleeping.”
“Good to hear.”
He waves toward the ballroom. “It’s ready to go, then?”
“We are ready to rock. Oh — that reminds me.” I put my pen to paper to add to my list. “Still need to nudge Addison. She said she’d bring extra ice.”
“How did that remind you of ice?” he asks, confused.
“Rock-music-Addison-ice. Don’t question my brain.”
Graham rubs his tired forehead. “Fair enough. Are you all set for tomorrow, too?”
I pause. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he repeats.
“What’s tomorrow?”
“The trip.”
“We have a trip?”
“No, you have a trip.”
“I don’t have a trip.”
“Yes, you do. We talked about this.” He furrows his brow. “Didn’t we?” he asks, unsure.
“We most certainly did not discuss me going on a trip tomorrow.” I set my clipboard down, giving him my full attention. “What trip?”
“Shit,” he says. “I’m sorry. I could have sworn I told you. You know, they never tell you what it’s really like to have a newborn. I can hardly remember to feed myself, let alone—”
“Graham.” I snap my fingers. “Focus. What trip?”
“Oh.” He scratches his five-six-seven o’clock shadow. “There are still five locations in need of their first-quarter audits.”
“That’s the Company Liaison’s job,” I point out.
“Right,” he says with a nod.
I wait for more. He says nothing. “So, you’re not the Liaison anymore,” I say.
“I know.”
“Neither am I. Unless you forgot to tell me that, too, in which case I’d gladly except the extra six-figures in my paycheck.”
Graham laughs. “No, I definitely would have remembered to tell you that.”
I sigh. “Okay. What does this have to do with me, then?”
“You’re going to accompany the new Company Liaison on the trip.”
My gut sinks. “What?”
“I need you to be my eyes and ears. Rate his performance sans training wheels. He nailed his training, but you know as well as I do that it’s different out in the field on your own.”
“Um...”
“I’d do it, but I’m still technically on paternity leave until the shareholders’ convention and these audits need to be done before then.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks. “Okay, but...”
“But what?”
“The new Company Liaison is—”
“Oliver!”
I flinch as Marla excitedly squeals behind us. She rushes out from the front desk and throws her arms around
him as he approaches from the hotel entrance. He happily returns her embrace, his face emblazoned with a friendly smile.
Big blue eyes. A chiseled, clean-shaven jawline. Dark hair just long enough to tickle his eyebrows.
Ah, crap.
“Oli!” Graham says, waving him over. “We were just talking about you.”
Marla detaches from him as the phone rings behind the desk. She goes to answer it, freeing Oliver so he can walk toward us. He stops next to Graham and looks right at me as he slides his hands into the pockets of his black suit.
“About me?” he asks, his smirk twitching with amusement. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
I swallow hard.
“Paige is going to accompany you on the road tomorrow,” Graham says.
Oliver nods. “I know. You told me.”
I deflate. “Oh, great. He told you.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No, he didn’t tell me.”
“Was I supposed to tell her?”
“No,” Graham says. “I’m sure it was my sleep-deprived mistake… and I’m very sorry,” he adds for me.
“It’s okay,” I say, holding my breath. “I think I can adjust my schedule a bit. How long is the trip?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks?!”
“Five locations, two or three days each for audits and additional prep with the managers for the convention. The standard in-and-out. You’re better at that than anybody, Paige.”
Oliver smirks. “I will take good notes.”
Graham pats his shoulder. “That’s the spirit, Oli!”
I retreat even deeper into myself.
This cannot be happening.
Marla hangs up the phone. “Uh, Graham?”
“Yeah?” he asks her.
“That was Jen on the phone. She said to tell you that if you don’t get the bleep back upstairs right bleeping now, then she’s never going to...” she lowers her voice, “bleep your bleep ever again.”
Graham sighs. “Yeah, that sounds like my wife.”
“You should get up there,” Oliver says, amused. “It must be serious.”
“Going up.” He bows out of our circle toward the elevator. “I’ll be back down later for the party. It looks great, Paige.”
“But I…” My voice falls as I look at Oliver.
He smiles back at me with the same warmth as I remember. Thin lips. Prominent cheekbones. Icy-cool eyes that stare deep into my—
“Graham—!” I shift on my toes. “Graham, hold on.” I rush to get behind him. “Are you sure it’s really necessary for me to go? I mean, you said it yourself, Oliver nailed his training. Maybe this is the perfect opportunity to let him fly solo.”
Graham slaps the elevator call button. “No, it’s important for us to maintain complete normalcy leading up to the convention. No screw-ups. No surprises. A change in leadership always makes the shareholders nervous for a while, and I don’t want to mess up my first few weeks as CEO.”
The doors open and Graham steps on.
I linger outside with my hand on the doors to keep them open. “But—”
“Oliver is prepared, but cocky,” he says over me. “If anyone can keep his ego in check, it’s you.”
“Okay, but isn’t there another—”
“The fate of the company is in your hands, Paige,” he says. “I’m counting on you.”
I close my mouth, thinking twice as I look into his exhausted eyes. Graham is under a lot of pressure right now — at home and at the office. Add in the flurry of extra media attention about to explode on his entire family thanks to his mother running for U.S. Senate, I couldn’t even imagine the stress.
The last thing he needs to worry about is me and my personal shit.
I take my hand off the door. “You can count on me, sir. I won’t let you down.”
“I know.” Graham smiles. “You never have.”
I stand up straight until the golden doors close. As soon as he’s gone, I let my head fall. Deep breaths. Deep breaths…
When I raise my head again, I flinch at the chiseled face hovering above my shoulder in the reflective golden door.
“So, we should talk,” Oliver says.
I turn to face him. “I’m actually quite busy right now.” I hold up my clipboard. “See? Very long list of tasks.”
“Later then?”
I screw up my nose. “I kinda got this party to go to…”
“Me, too,” he says. “I’m sure there’s a quiet corner you and I can get together in to talk.”
“Oliver...” I exhale as I pinch the bridge of my nose beneath my glasses. “I really don’t think there’s anything we need to talk about.”
“Sure, there is.”
I shake my head. “No. No, I don’t think there is. Even if there were, it’s ancient history. Nothing we need to bring up again. Ever again.”
“That’s a strange thing to say about a travel itinerary.”
“Oh.” I bite my cheek. “Well, we can go over that at the airport tomorrow morning. And only that.”
Oliver pauses, his devious eyes glistening beneath the golden lights. “If that’s what you want, Ms. Landon.”
I stand up taller. “It is.”
“All right, then. I shall see you tomorrow morning. At the airport.”
With a swift nod, I turn on my heels and make a break for the ballroom. I manage a whole three steps before my brain kicks in and I stop mid-stride. I spin back around, and Oliver is still standing in the same place, watching me as I walk away.
I pray my burning cheeks aren’t too obvious. “What time?” I ask. “And where are we going exactly?”
“Eight,” he answers. “Chicago. I’ll email you the rest.”
“Cool,” I say before continuing my oh-so-graceful exit toward the ballroom. “Just be cool,” I whisper to myself.
Chapter 3
Oliver
Paige Landon.
It has been a long time, but I still remember everything.
And I can tell she does, too.
She wanders through the crowd as Fiona makes her speech. Taking signatures. Handing out swag. Giving away smiles and stickers like candy. But she never looks at me. Never at me.
Gee. Thanks, Graham.
The next two weeks of my life are sure to just fly by…
I told him I don’t need an assistant. I can do this job on my own with my hands tied behind my back — blindfolded — but he insisted I bring her along with me on this first trip.
Nothing personal, he said. He just needs it to go well, and Paige is the one he sends in when he needs things to go well. After his first shareholders’ convention as CEO, we’ll revisit the conversation, but I’ve already made up my mind.
No assistants. No babysitters.
Oliver Black is a lone wolf. Always has been.
Always will be.
That said…
Paige emerges from the crowd again with a bag full of campaign buttons. She pauses to breathe, her sizable chest rising and testing the buttons of her blouse. Tight pencil skirt. Perfect legs peeking out the bottom…
At least this trip won’t be boring.
“Still hiding in the dark, Oliver?”
I turn to the voice suddenly on my left. “Easier to see the big picture from back here,” I say to the familiar face.
Kingston Botsford smiles, bringing out the wrinkles of his eyes, but that only makes him look more damn handsome. If I’m able to inherit one thing from my chosen family, please let it be that.
“Sure, but then… you’re not a part of the picture,” he says.
I chuckle. He’s got me there. “Congrats to you and Fiona,” I say. “You must be proud.”
“Thank you,” he says, settling onto the empty wall beside me. “I am.”
I find Fiona on the stage again, smiling widely as she answers a thousand questions. Why are you running now? When did you decide? What’s your platform? Is your father involved in the ca
mpaign? She owns the room, completely. Not that I’m surprised, of course. Fiona comes from American political royalty. Her father, Richard Garland, was a Nevada senator for over two decades before he ran for President. He lost that election, but people still remember him fondly. That alone will take her far. The Botsford name will take her even further. But her own achievements — her seemingly endless résumé of charitable contributions, philanthropy, and volunteer work — will do most of the heavy lifting.
She’s going to win.
“So, she’s finally running, huh?” I ask Kingston.
He nods, his warm eyes shining in the dark corner. “All part of the plan,” he says.
“Really?”
“Fiona’s always been ambitious. I promised her years ago that I wouldn’t stand in the way of it and I won’t.”
“Why did she wait so long?”
His lips twitch. “Well, she got pregnant.”
“Ah,” I say with a chuckle.
“Then... again.” We laugh together. “And two more times after that, but she found other ways to get involved. To give back. To help people, as you know,” he adds with a quick look at me.
“Oh, I do.”
“She’s been building this campaign for thirty years. Now, the boys are grown, married. Two of them with kids of their own. It was time for her to get back to her own life.”
I nod slowly, taking it all in. “So, that’s why you retired early,” I say, reading his face.
Kingston nods. “Oh, I wasn’t going to miss this cooped up in this hotel all day.”
I look at the stage again as the room erupts with applause. Fiona’s now joined by her elderly father, former Senator Richard Garland — her first official endorsement.
“Shouldn’t you be up there with her, too?” I ask.
“Me? No.” He smiles, his eyes fixed on her, and only her. “No, she’s got this.”
“Would you—oh!”
I nearly flinch in the dark as another person suddenly appears on my other side. It’s Paige. She’s made her way to the back of the ballroom with a half-empty baggie of campaign buttons. Her eyes just barely lock on mine as she realizes who she’s run into, but then quickly abandon me to focus on Kingston instead.
“Hello, Mr. B!” she happily greets him with a wide smile.
“Good evening, Paige,” he says with a quick bow of his head. “Great job on the ballroom tonight. I believe this was your doing?”
