Page 23

I get up to her apartment and knock on the door, the sound sharp and impatient in the narrow hall.

“Coming!” Maeve sounds incredibly stressed—more stressed than I’ve ever heard her, actually. Part of why she’s such a good assistant is she doesn’t let last-minute changes or a large workload rattle her.

She opens the door, freezing when she sees me, her beautiful green eyes going wide. Her gorgeous red hair is tied up in a messy bun, and behind her, I can see into her tiny apartment. The damn place is smaller than my bathroom, for fuck’s sake.

That’s not what has me staring, though. It’s the fact that the place looks like a bomb went off in it. Clothes are strewn everywhere, and my brows shoot up at the chaotic sight.

“If this is what you think ‘ready’ means,” I say dryly, “I would hate to think what your ‘not ready’ looks like.”

Maeve huffs. “Just what I needed. Your sarcasm.”

She turns and wades back into the sea of clothing. I take that as an invitation to step into her apartment, closing the door behind me. The space is small, but it smells like her—something clean and sweet, like citrus and vanilla. “What is all this? Maeve, we have to be at the airport.”

“God, I know, I know.” Maeve runs a hand through her hair, making the loose bun untwist. “I was ready, I swear, I had everything laid out last night. But then I couldn’t sleep, so I thought, hey, maybe you should rearrange the packing a little, be productive. And then I couldn’t stop second-guessing what I had chosen. And then it just all kind of…” She gestures around us at the mess. “Snowballed from there.”

“I can see that.”

Maeve starts trying to fold the various clothes. She looks heartbroken, like someone’s threatening to run over her puppy. I’ve never seen her like this. In spite of myself, I find myself reluctantly asking, “What has you so nervous?”

Maeve gives a semi-hysterical laugh. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I’m about to go to the family estate of a super-rich sophisticated family, where I’ll have to pretend to be some handsome, successful guy’s fiancée, where an entire massive business deal is riding on my convincing performance and, oh yeah, his brother is my ex-fiancé!”

I can feel the corners of my mouth turning downward into a frown and force myself to keep a neutral expression. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Hayden, you’re handsome and rich and you own a whole company. Look at me.” Maeve gestures at herself.

“Not sure I follow.” Maeve is beautiful. Her luscious curves are mouthwatering, and she always dresses nicely. Professionally, of course, but in skirts and blouses that flatter her figure.

“I’m an assistant. And I know, I know…” Maeve holds up a hand. “I know there is nothing wrong with being an assistant. But that’s not good enough for people like Liam and Ford’s family. Ford is old money. They have a lot of expectations. They want designer clothes, and for me to come from a good family, and to be successful in my own right.”

I can’t hide my frown this time. “And they… told you all this?”

“I haven’t really met them, honestly. Just really briefly. I’ve never been to the family estate. Liam… um, he always kind of made an excuse. I think he was ashamed of me.” Maeve gestures at the clothes strewn around us. “I never dressed right, I couldn’t lose enough weight, I’m too awkward.”

“Liam said all that.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement of fact that settles like ice in my veins.

Maeve shrugs one elegant shoulder up and down.

Jesus. I’ve never liked Liam, to be honest. I don’t think Ford’s actually a huge fan of his brother, either. But now I want to wring the little brat’s neck. I can’t believe someone, anyone, would say that kind of shit to Maeve of all people. But especially someone you’re dating. You’re supposed to make the person you’re dating feel like they can walk on water. What the fuck.

“I don’t think you should listen to a damn thing Liam says,” I snap. “He’s an arrogant spoiled party boy living off a trust fund, and he wouldn’t recognize an intelligent thought if it bit him in the ass.”

Maeve’s jaw drops open.

“Don’t worry about what anyone thinks of you. You’ll be there as Ford’s fiancée. That means he thinks you’re good enough for him. And that should be good enough for anyone else. Ford’s not an idiot. He’d never choose someone to date, especially not propose to them, for no reason.”

“We’re not really…” Maeve splutters, eyes wide.

“Doesn’t matter. You think Ford would ask just anyone to fake this with him? He’d pick someone he could trust and respect.”

I know for a fact that Ford trusts and respects Maeve. Gabriel and I do as well. We wouldn’t have kept her as our assistant for nearly two years if we didn’t. We have to trust her, with all she does for us and the contracts she sees and the paperwork she handles.

Maeve still looks a bit shocked. I know I’m a hardass, but it hadn’t occurred to me that she might not know that I respected her the way I do.

I sigh and start to sort through the clothes. “You want to know what to wear? Fine. I’ll pick it out. Since you’re allergic to making decisions.”

Maeve folds her arms but for once doesn’t have a witty line in return. “Didn’t think you knew much about women’s fashion,” she mutters quietly.

“I’m used to making decisions that affect an entire company. I can make a few decisions about some clothes. Here. You look great in this one.” I pick up a dress she’s worn to the office a few times and toss it at her. “And this blouse complements your eyes.”