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Relief pooled in his eyes. “I don’t pay you enough.”
“You really don’t,” I teased, grinning at him as he winked at me and disappeared into the garage.
I waited until I heard him headed down the graveled drive before I pulled out my phone and tapped a few keys.
The squeaky sound of Lena’s voice echoed in my ears as I headed toward the master bedroom. I didn’t necessarily mind handling all of Weston’s day-to-night activities, but God, did I really have to deal with this beforeI’dhad coffee?
I smoothed out my simple blouse and high-waist slacks combo, mainly just eating up as much time as I possibly could before I had to go into Weston’s bedroom. Hesitating with my hand on the knob, I leaned close to the door, straining my ears for any sort of sound—sniffling, grumbling, anything—but there was nothing to give me a hint at what I’d be dealing with once I walked through that door.
Blowing out a breath, I stopped lingering and pushed through it. I didn’thaveto knock, but I did for a quick warning. Weston was already halfway to the office, and even though he hadn’t spoken the words out loud, he’d made one thing very clear—get Lena out of here as quickly as possible.
I stepped into the room, instantly hit with all thingsWeston. His signature scent hung in the air, the spiced citrus and warm woodsy smell swirling around me in a way that always made me feel at home in the oddest way. Probably because he’d smelled the same since the day I met him years ago in high school.
His bedroom was clean but not overly kept. There were books stacked in random piles on his nightstand and dresser, his home iPad on its charging station next to his bed. A cushioned chair rested in the corner of his room next to a little shelf of more books—the exact place I kept randomly sliding romance novels between all the non-fiction he selected to line the shelves. The notion made me smile, and I wondered when he’d finally figure out what I’d been doing for the last year and a half.
The attached bathroom light glowed beneath the closed door, and that was enough to wipe the smile from my face. The last thing I needed right now was for Lena to walk out of that bathroom freshly showered, naked, and looking as perfect as a movie star.
“Lena?” I called as I knocked on the door.
“Ugh, what?” she answered, the sound of bottles clinking together rattling from the other side.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” I said, keeping my voice as sincere and even as possible. It’s not her fault Weston wanted to sleep with her and not marry her. But itwasher fault that she was more interested in his status and wealth than what actually made himhim. “But your car will be here in fifteen minutes. I wanted to make sure you were prepared.”
The door swung open, a very gorgeous but pissed off looking Lena filling out the frame. She was a good four inches taller than me, her long, lean legs stretching beneath the silk dress she wore, her feet bare and toes painted the most shimmery color of coral.
“You called a car?” she snapped, shoving past me, her leather makeup bag tucked under her arm. “Why the hell would you do that?”
Because Weston wanted me to.
“I assumed you had a breakfast event or meeting to attend,” I explained, spinning as I watched her shove her makeup into her Louis Vuitton overnight bag.
She scoffed, the motion making her perfectly wavy blonde hair tremble over her shoulders. “Sometimes I have no idea why Weston still employees you.” She zipped up the bag, looping her arm through the wide straps while she slipped her feet into her cream-colored pumps. “Assumingthings like you do is a real hinderance.” She pursed her lips at me, a perfectly groomed eyebrow arching my direction. “I’ve mentioned it once or twice,” she said, surveying my outfit like she was a judge on some fashion show. “You should be careful. Another slipup like this and he’ll fire you so fast you won’t even be able to get a job cleaning apartments.”
Does she think all I do for Weston isclean? What the actual fuck?
I straightened my spine, plastering a sickly sweet smile on my face as I reached for the bedroom door. “Mr. Rutherford has me do a plethora of different tasks,” I explained as I held the door open for her. “Whether that be setting meetings, organizing his schedule, or getting rid of a toxic stain…” I made sure to eye her for emphasis on that one. “I ensure it all gets done. Anything to make his life a little easier.”
Lena’s mouth fell open, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at me. “You’re done,” she said under her breath, glaring at me as she shoved past me, stomping toward the front door.
I rolled my eyes. She wasn’t entirely wrong—I was so done with dealing with her bullshit. She talked to me like a piece of garbage stuck to her four-thousand-dollar shoes. Not that I was special or anything—she spoke to everyone who didn’t have an offshore bank account like that. I seriously never understood what Weston saw in her.
Easy.
She was easy. No strings and with a commonality when it came to the business world and where those paths crossed. He didn’t have to work to fit her into his life, didn’t have to give an explanation of why they were kind-of together, and no one blinked twice when she was photographed next to him.
Unlike me, who constantly showed up in pictures trailing behind him like his favorite piece of luggage. Not that Weston had ever made me feel as such, but the reporters loved to use the shots that made me look that way.
The front door slammed, snapping me out of my spiral of thoughts. I blew out a tight breath, and shoved all those emotions down.
Finally, now I could start my actual job. One that now included a bright and shiny title as the newest head of marketing at Weston’s Raleigh firm.
* * *
After two hoursof responding to emails with our overseas clients, I made my way to the conference room to approve the breakfast spread before calling my staff in for a morning meeting. It was my first official day taking over the marketing firm, but most of Weston’s employees were familiar with me from when he purchased it.
“Good morning, everyone,” I said once they were seated at the long oval-shaped table set up in the conference room. “Please feel free to dig into the food and coffee, and then we’ll get down to business.”
“Really?” Jake asked. “Weston usually makes us wait until the meeting is over to eat.”
