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The elevator doors open on two sides. Exit to the left for mine and Brian’s offices, to the right for Horse and Aiden. On the living floors, one side opens to my suite, the other to Horse’s. If he wants to drop in to see me, he just has to walk through the elevator and he’ll be in my personal space.
Other than cleaning staff, my brothers, and Mother, Savi is the only other person who’s been in my suite in years—and only to drop off files or dry cleaning. That she assumes it’s been a while since I’ve been laid, as she so graciously put it, is based on the intimacy we’ve developed traveling the world together over the last three years. It’s a professional friendship that in no way threatens her husband, since it’s clear to everyone who sees us interact in public that I am her boss. And inside our building, she’s like a meddling little sister. It’s a role I’m fine with when performed in front of family.
But that comment in front of Virginia? That was out of line.
Horse’s executive assistant’s desk is empty, so I let myself into his office. Aiden and Brian are already here.
“Staging a coup without me?” I ask.
“Reshma should be back in a minute with lunch,” Horse says.
“We were actually wondering the same thing—but with Mother as the ousted party. Impromptu board meeting without her? What’s going on, Will?” Aiden asks.
“Not at all. Though …” I raise my eyebrows, as if considering.
“I know, right?” Brian says.
“I just wanted to see you guys. Give you a laugh at my idiocy. And toss a creative business idea by you.”
A knock on the door lets us know lunch has arrived. Reshma is far more formal than Savannah in all ways, shapes, and forms. She’s been working for Horse for several months but still calls us all Mr. Power, which is amusing in situations like this. She rolls in the bussing cart which carries our food. Lunch is made by our in-house chef, so we rarely order anything specific, instead letting her do what she’s best at—preparing Michelin Star–worthy meals.
Today is a hot roast beef sandwich with coleslaw and fries. And each portion is twice as big as it needs to be.
“Which one of you is going to share with me? I only need half of this,” I say.
“I’ll go half with you,” Brian says.
I hand my covered plate back to Reshma. “If you’d like half of this, it’s all yours. And can you ask Savi to come and get the other half and offer it to the contractor working on my plants, please?”
“Of course, Mr. Power.”
Horse gives me a look but waits until Reshma is gone before saying, “If food be the music of love, play on.”
“That’s not the way it goes, dumbass,” Aiden says.
“Oh, but it is. Will’s love language is food. You’ve got it bad for this plant lady. Why are you with us if she’s in your office right now?” Horse asks.
I tell them about Virginia’s dress. And my inappropriate declaration. And how I can’t focus when she’s around but that I enjoy the distraction of her. And that Savi said I need to get laid. The bastards laugh, and every one of them sides with my assistant, encouraging me to ask Virginia Beach out on a proper date.
Although I wasn’t going to admit it, that’s exactly what I needed to hear.
Since my every move in public has the potential to ruin our family name, I want to make sure my brothers are fine with me leaving the safety and reputational security of the building. My entire world, when I’m not traveling, is contained within the top five stories of the Power luxury high-rise.
“Thanks for the unsolicited relationship advice, but that’s not why I wanted to see you. I have an idea for a new product line that should appeal to a demographic we’ve been struggling to engage.”
12. Virginia
A THOUSAND LEAFY POTHOS
It’s been three weeks since I started caring for the plants in the Power tower, and I adore everything about the job. I’m getting to know people who share my love of all things green and growing, and I think I’m even making friends. But the person I am most happy to see every day?
Will.
He’s changed my schedule, so I go to the executive floor—and his office—at the end of each day. He says it’s too distracting having me in his space during his productive morning hours, but that he enjoys our banter so he doesn’t want me doing my work over his lunch break.
I love finishing my day with him since I don’t have to rush out. I guess he doesn’t have anywhere to be either since we’ve taken to sitting on his couch and gabbing after I finish tending what he always refers to as his “shrubberies.” The way he saysshrubberies, like an uppity, British blue blood, always makes me laugh.
“Big Friday night plans?” Will asks, setting a cup of herbal dragon chai on the coffee table for me, my signal to wrap up what I’m doing.
