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I frown. “But you’re single.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”
What the fuck? I sigh. “Alright. First, I’m not Father. You don’t have to hide shit from me. Two, congrats. And three, why can’t you bring her with you? I’m sure most women would love to take a trip to London. She can explore a new country while you disassemble and rebuild our office there.”
Mason doesn’t wait for Andrew to say anything. “It’s because she works for you.”
Sera. They had a thing, or at least I assume they did after that weirdness when we played charades. They’re back together?
“Take her if she wants to go, and I assume she will. Hell, get her to help you out. There’ll be plenty of design choices to make, and she’s good.”
Andrew grins, and Mason pushes his chair back so he can stand up. “Are we done?”
I glance at Andrew, and he nods. “Yeah, we’re done. Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Anywhere but in here. I don’t know how you two just sit around and talk all day. Don’t you have any actual work to do? Or do you just enjoy doing it in the middle of the night? I’m pretty sure that’s what your dream girl was complaining about, wasn’t it?”
Andrew chuckles, but it’s hard for me to take him seriously. He’s been off playing on an island for years. What does he know about running Loughton House?
He nods to us and walks out of the room. I may not respect him in business, but I’m glad he’s here. Everything feels more right now that we’re all back together and running Loughton House.
“I know you and Mason haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but he’s going to fit in well here. It’s not like he’s been lazing about on a beach.”
I shrug. It doesn’t really matter what he’s been doing. He’s a Loughton, and he deserves to be here. He’ll pick it up as fast or faster than Andrew did. Mason has always been quicker than either of us. He just didn’t work well with Father.
“I know he’ll do fine,” I say as I stand up.
Andrew doesn’t leave his seat. Instead, he leans back and looks up at me. “You’re doing a hell of a lot to win a girl back. You know that, right? Normal people wouldn’t do this. I certainly wouldn’t.”
I give him a smirk. “Addison isn’t just ‘a girl’. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, and I’d burn Loughton House to the ground, if that’s what it took. Lucky for you, I doubt that’s what she wants.”
The grin fades from Andrew’s face as he realizes I mean exactly what I said. Father built this place for his wife. He gave every bit of time and energy to make sure he fulfilled his promise. I understand the way he felt now.
And I would absolutely light the match myself if that’s what she wanted.
Fifty-Seven
ADDISON
It feelslike a lifetime since I walked through these doors, even though it’s been just over a month.
I only found out yesterday that my agent now officially works for Loughton House, and he got me a meeting with the acquisitions department here. Instinctively, I was over-the-moon at the thought of being published by them. That was the dream from the beginning, after all.
After I thought about it, though, I’ve decided that I’m going to have to turn this down, and I guess I’ll have to find another agent. It doesn’t hurt to hear their offer, though, since I can always use it to leverage other publishers.
Walking through the doors of my old employer and into the workspace I remember so well, I expect to see the cubicles that dominated the floors. I expect to hear quiet murmurs and the nearly imperceptible sound of music playing through headphones. Yet, none of those are here.
There are no quietly productive humans acting like a well-oiled machine, taking in raw manuscripts and turning them into wildly successful books. In fact, it’s damn near silent.
“This way,” Brett, my agent, says, as he leads me down a hallway between offices. Offices. With glass walls. Some with doors open and others with doors and blinds shut.
I glance inside one and see that there is a single desk with a single person there. Not four desks crammed inside a single cubicle to save space. There’s no way that all the employees are here. They wouldn’t fit.
What’s happened to this place?
I try not to let myself get stuck on the changes. Of course, things have changed since I left. How many people left when I did? How many have left since then? I bet that all these people are working hundred-hour weeks to keep up the production that’s expected.
I sigh, glad that I left when I did. Murray Press has strict rules on working hours. No one is ever supposed to work overtime even though we’re salaried. There’s a huge emphasis on work-life balance there.
