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“The day hasn’t started, how is it wrecked?” He’s so cranky, even more than usual. “You just drink the coffee, appreciate the new taste and go with it.” Bless him. He is flustered and upset and breathing hard. It makes his chest muscles harder to ignore and I can’t stop myself from staring. Spencer goes quiet, and stands still. When I look up, he has caught me having a good stare at him. He’s uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“I am going to the gym. Please don’t cause any more chaos or throw out anything else while I am busy.” He snaps and pours his coffee down the drain on his way out. Well, that didn’t go as planned, but he hasn’t fired me. So, I will take that as a small victory—he will get used to the coffee and eating food that doesn’t require innocent animals to die for it.
I put his empty mug in the dishwasher and check what is next on the list. Gym time is sacred and not to be disturbed. Fair, I hate when anyone interrupts my yoga. I decide to take a break and unpack my things on the other side of the house where Audrey used to live. It’s a palace compared to my apartment. All I have is a few small things, but it feels a little homely.
The phone in my pocketbing-bongswith a notification that I should be doing something. Pulling it out, I stroll back to the office. Still no sign of Spencer, but the groceries have been delivered. I restock the fridge and pantry and respond to the three texts from the main offices requesting schedule changes.
I print a new schedule for the day and crumple up the first one, tossing it basketball-style into the wastepaper basket as Spencer comes in. “Your board meeting at the office has been moved two hours earlier,” I say and stand there, waiting to see if he wants me to do anything.
“Why?’ He barks, looking over the plan for his day.
“They asked me to move it,” I say because that’s exactly why.
“No, Luna,” he says, looking up at me. “I am the owner. If I wanted to change the time, I would. If they ask, you say no. I do not run after the people who work for me. That’s not how it works. Tell them we can no longer make it. Cancel and set a new date.”
“That’s crazy. You don’t have anything else in the book for today. You can just go and get it over with.” I make the mistake of giving him my opinion. Spencer glares at me over the top of his computer screen. There are daggers in his eyes. “Your sister made me promise I would get you to that meeting,” I say, hoping to save myself whatever wrath is about to come.
“Then you shouldn’t have rescheduled it, Luna,” he says, his jaw clenched tight, trying very hard not to lose his shit with me. “I don’t like when things change. Routine and planning. Audrey makes sure those things are always in place. You want to do her job, do it right.” Lord help me. I might kill my boss on my first day of work.
“You have to be flexible, Spencer. Things change all the time.”
“It’s your job to ensure that they don’t.” He argues back at me. “I am not flexible. Simple as that…cancel the meeting.”
“No, I will not. You can either go or cancel it yourself. You can tell them you’re a stubborn asshole and that their request is denied. But I will not make excuses for you being a petty pain in the ass.” Fuck it, if he fires me, so what. It’s not like I am his sister. If he hates me—that’s his issue. “If there’s nothing else, I will come get you when it’s time to go.” I spin around and storm out, kicking the door shut behind me. Audrey deserves her insane paycheck and a medal.
How is Charlotte? You know your brother is an insufferable asshole with an inflated ego, right? He needs a kick in the nads.
I shoot a text to Audrey, and she responds with a photo of a sleeping baby and a rolling with laughter emoji. Neither helps me calm down after dealing with stubborn Spencer and his superiority complex.
I change into ‘work-ish’ clothes and try taming the mane of wild curls on my head enough that I am suitably boring enough to go with him to this meeting—because he is going. I have no idea who is in the mirror looking back at me, but she looks constipated and sad. I take off the blazer and put on a pair of pretty, colorful hoop earrings.
Let’s drag him kicking and screaming to that meeting. I smile to myself and walk with determination to go find Spencer.
SEVEN
SPENCER
She’s not Audrey, and she has no idea how I do things. I was almost murdered with organic tar in a cup this morning, and then she switched the schedule without even thinking. This won’t work, especially when she can’t even see what she did wrong—the audacity she had to argue and tell me to move the meeting. That’s her job!
I’m growling to myself, frustrated and unable to concentrate on anything that needs to be done. When my routine is off, I struggle to get myself into my work focus. It’s as if my own mind fights me. I close my laptop, squeeze my eyes closed and try resetting. Turning it on and off isn’t really effective on humans.
“Are you ready?” Luna startles me. “The driver is waiting to take us to the meeting. Did you reschedule? Or cancel? If not, we need to go now.” She checks the time on her phone. The urge to yell or strangle her is incredibly hard to ignore. I did not cancel the meeting—making phone calls is not something I willingly participate in. I shove my chair back and stand up. Stretching my body, it's so stiff from the gym workout, and then sitting still right after.
“Let’s go.” I put my laptop under my arm, grab my phone and shove it in my pocket. The more I look at Luna, the more I wonder how on earth this happened. It’s my own fault. I was stubborn and wouldn’t hire anyone my sister sent me to interview. I was sulking about her leaving, and now her best friend is causing chaos in my life. I can only blame myself, I guess. When she turns around to leave, I notice the outfit she’s wearing. It’s very un-Luna and looks wrong. I haven’t got time to curate her wardrobe, so I let it slide.
She’s not going to be in the meeting, so hopefully, no one notices my new assistant is slightly strange and completely unqualified. Her short skirt is likely to get some attention. It certainly has mine when she walks ahead of me like that. Her hips swaying, and muscular legs disappear under the flouncy hem of the skirt as it swishes around her.
I’ve never really looked at Luna before. She’s always just been this buzzing irritation in the background of my sister’s life. She is always there but I never really paid attention. She’s quite striking if you take the time to look past all the crazy that goes along with Luna. She slips into the backseat of the waiting car, giving me a flash of the lacy underwear she’s got on.
“You never dress like this,” I comment getting in beside her.
“I never had a voice note from your sister saying dress nicely before either, so here we are.” Oh, that makes sense. My sister is probably worried Luna will show up as—well, Luna. “I hate it as much as you do.” She huffs.
“I don’t hate it. The skirt suits you.” I shrug. She looks nice––different and not exactly office appropriate, but definitely nice.
“Your face says what your mouth doesn’t.” Luna stares at me. I honestly don’t hate her outfit. It’s just strange to see her in anything flattering.
“I really don’t hate it. You just never wear anything that actually makes you look like—like that.” I have no correct words to use. She looks good, like a woman, not a blob in baggy fabric. Why does she hide herself away?
