Chapter 9

I knewthe minute Princess Aster stepped away earlier that he was up to something. He gave us all an apologetic look as he skipped down the hall, phone to ear.

It took him several long minutes to return. When he did, he walked right up to me and smiled.

“You have an interview in two hours with someone who needs you.”

If he’d have said any other words, I might have been fine. But he’d chosen those. Needs you. My brain was inundated with what it could possibly mean. Did they need me because I was the perfect fit for the job? Or did they only need me because it was convenient?

I knew I was projecting again. Letting my past and present overlap in a way that made me shortsighted.

Despite my inner turmoil, I allowed the group of men to give me advice on what to wear and how to do my hair. They basically treated me like their doll to dress up, which they all enjoyed far too much. By the time they finished, I had to leave, or I’d be late.

Luckily, Pierce was able to drive me, so I didn’t have to wait for a ride. I’d found out throughout the night that he was Doyle’s Daddy. Doyle with the donut pajamas.

I’d used every trick in the book to get my mind to properly associate everyone’s name and connection. I still didn’t have it all figured out, but I was getting closer.

“You nervous?” Pierce asked as we drove toward the coffee shop.

I shook my head. “It’s not that. I’m curious, I guess. There”s a lot that could go wrong.”

“And there is a lot that could go right. Don’t discount the guy before you’ve met him. Princess Aster is rarely wrong. Please don’t mention I said that, though. He’ll never let us live it down.”

“He won’t hear it from me,” I told him.

Sooner than I’d have liked, we arrived at the place I was meant to meet this guy. His name was Weston, though I was told to call him Wes. All I knew was he had glasses and was tall. Though tall was subjective since I wasn’t a shrinking violet thanks to my work on the ranch.

“All you have to do is tell him the truth. Once he knows how good of a fit you are for this, he’ll hire you.” Pierce gave me a bit of a pep talk as I fought my hesitation about getting out.

When the clock turned to show it was the exact time to meet, I waved at Pierce and climbed out. There was no more delaying things. Besides, Pierce said he’d be parked right down the street in case I needed him. He was going to play a game on his phone while I had the meeting.

I stepped inside the shop with all the confidence I could muster. With a quick look around, I realized there was no reason for me to be intimidated. The space had an almost cozy feel to it. If this was where this Wes guy wanted to meet, then he couldn’t be too bad.

There was no one at the counter, so I approached and ordered a cup of tea to enjoy while I waited for him to show. Once they had my order ready, I chose a booth near the back where I’d be able to see everyone.

No sooner had I sat down than the door opened again. My head whipped up to see who it might be.

Tall with broad shoulders were the first things I caught sight of. I chose to travel down the length of him first, noting right away that his outfit was more business casual than anything. It seemed like he’d gone for the in-between here — not a suit but not jeans either. I’d done the same thanks to the men who helped me get ready.

As my perusal returned upward, I realized the room felt like it was at a standstill. It didn’t register to me that it was because I was obviously and boldly checking this man out.

I only came to when I noticed the curve of his lips. Then I kept going and found his eyes dancing with humor. They were outlined by a pair of thick black frames.

He ignored the drink options completely as he made his way across the room. “Gerald?”

I nodded and tried to stand. My legs decided then and there they wouldn’t work for me though. I knocked against the table instead of actually standing.

“No need to stand. I’ll sit,” he said as he smoothly shifted onto the bench across from me.

As he sat, he kept his eyes on me. It felt intimate in a way, the level of eye contact he gave. I couldn’t understand how something so basic had me flustered.

“So tell me about yourself, Gerald. I’d like to get to know you before we get to the nitty gritty of things,” he said.

I sat up straighter at the request. This was ok. I merely needed to tell him about myself.

“My name is Gerald Grimes. I’m forty-three years old. I’ve spent most of my life working in a rural job setting. A few months ago, I moved to the city. I’m starting over and would love the opportunity to help if you feel I’m a good fit.”

The man watched me closely, his flinty stare penetrating through my bravado. It wasn’t anything meant to intimidate me. I just had a feeling this was his personality as a whole.

“Very well. Turnabout is only fair. My name is Weston Joffry, though I prefer Wes. I’m thirty-eight years old. I cannot handle the outdoors in any capacity, which is why my work has always been the type done in an office setting. My brother inherited all the genes regarding such activities. I’ve lived here for… many years. We moved here when I was young. I didn’t see the point in leaving when it suited my needs just fine.”

“I see,” I told him. I was unsure of what else there was for me to offer him. We’d shared basic platitudes. Was this when I asked him his favorite food or told him my preferred genre of movies?

“How much were you told about this position?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Princess Aster said I’d be a good fit. He didn’t explain anything after that.”

Wes chuckled. “That won’t do. You should know what you’re signing up for before I hire you.”

“You want to hire me?”

“Indeed, I do. I have a feeling you and I will work well together. Would you like to hear more about the work?”

“Yes, please.” I wasn’t sure what title he’d prefer. While I knew he said Wes was fine, it felt too formal to say his name that way if he was my boss. The last time I got close to my employer — well, we know how that ended.

Wes motioned to the counter. “I’m going to grab something to drink first. Would you like another?”

“Oh, I can go get it. What would you like? I’ll grab them for us both.”

He raised his brow. “I would insist, but I feel this might be important to you. Am I right?”

“Yes,” I replied carefully. I didn’t want him to know just yet how vital it was for me to take care of things. If he wanted to hire me, he’d need to accept my propensity for taking care of things.

“An Americano, please, Gerald. And whatever you’d like.” He slid a card over to me.

I snatched it up, then went to the counter to order. The barista took down my order, then encouraged me to try some of their sweets. While past-me would have enjoyed sneaking a treat at this time of day, I knew it wouldn’t be good for my nerves. Besides, Wes didn’t seem like the sweet tooth type.

Leaning closer, I asked the barista, “Has that guy ever been here before?”

She followed my motion over my shoulder. Her grin was all the answer I needed.

“Do you know what he likes to eat? If so, I’d like that as well, please.”

“Coming right up.”

I tapped his card on the screen, then tipped her properly as I suspected he might have done. In a couple of brief minutes, the young woman returned with a tray carrying our drinks and a small bowl with four dark brown balls inside.

“Protein caramel oat balls. They”re his favorite,” she whispered. “Have a good day!”

With the goods in hand, I pivoted to return to our table. Wes watched me the entire way, studying me as if he’d have to give a presentation later. I wanted to shrivel under the stare, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t. The new-me wasn’t going to cower. Not when there was more to overcome.

I eased the tray down, then emptied its contents. “I’ll be back in a moment,” I told him before returning the tray to the counter.

When I finally sat across from him, Wes raised his brow at me. “Why did you get these?”

“Because sometimes hard conversations are best done with food. And also because your eyes drifted to the food case when I told you I’d go grab our drinks. I think had you gone, you’d have bought them anyway.”

“And how did you even know I liked them?” He pressed.

“The barista. She confirmed you’d not only been here before, but that you preferred this particular item.”

His smile was slow to form, but by the time he was full out grinning, I was overcome with relief. I’d passed whatever silly test this had been. Though, I doubted it was a test before I turned it into one.

“Very well done, Gerald. I’m impressed. Attention to detail like that is good. Now then, about the job. I’m looking to replace a few key positions in my life. Notably a chef and housekeeper. I’d also love someone to balance my calendar as a personal assistant. They might need to pick up dry cleaning for me or answer my emails and such from time to time. Is this something you think you could handle?”

“Absolutely. It’s been a while since I’ve had to cook for myself, but I’m more than capable. I also have access to a number of truly delicious recipes for you to try. As far as keeping house, I prefer to keep things as tidy as possible. The personal assistant position feels much the same way. Would it be safe to say this is more a house manager job than all those others separately?”

He snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s exactly how I’d describe it.”

“Then, yes, I’d love to accept the job. I do have one more topic I believe we should discuss. It might change your mind; however, I cannot proceed without saying something.”

“By all means, please tell me your thoughts. I’m not sure what you could possibly say to change my mind at this point though.” Wes grinned at me as he picked up another treat. He popped it between his lips as he waited for me to speak.

I took a deep breath. This was part of the new life I’d chosen. In order to be better, and to continue to stay sober, it was best for me to be upfront.

“I’m a recovering alcoholic. The move I made a few months ago was into a rehab facility after I got behind the wheel while intoxicated. It was the darkest moment of my life, and since then, I’ve made massive strides to change myself. I completely understand if you wish to retract your offer at this time.”

Folding my hands together, I kept my spine straight. I rejected the notion that I had to let others put me down because of my struggles. If anything, it spoke more about their character than it did mine.

Wes finished chewing his food, then took a sip of his coffee. I watched as he wiped his mouth next, the slow movement an obvious delay of whatever he intended to tell me.

“I’d rather think it bold of you to assume this is a deterrent for you being hired. Your sobriety actually makes you more suited as a candidate. You not only pay attention to details, but you’re going to be aware of things I might not notice thanks to the things you’ve had to overcome on your journey. The only change will be the drinks I used to enjoy in the evening. I’ll swap them for something different. Maybe this tea perhaps? Is it any good?”

There was no universe in which things like this happened. I had to be dreaming.

I pinched my arm roughly to check. Wes saw and scowled.

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because I have to be dreaming. You’re… you’re not bothered by this at all?” I hissed.

His frown deepened. “Being upset that you chose to seek help for yourself is unwise. If anything, I should be thankful. Your choice to attend rehabilitation led you to the city at the perfect time. Our fates have aligned in a way that I think we can both benefit from working together.”

I swallowed thickly as emotion surged through me. “I would love to accept your offer, Sir.”

“Wes. Remember?”

“It feels rather personal to call you that. I’m not sure I can,” I admitted, though I didn’t expand on why.

He gave a brief tilt of his head. “Understandable. We’ll work on that more over time. You’ll get used to it once you’re comfortable. Now then, I do have one final offer to add.”

“An offer?”

“Yes,” he replied gravely. “You see, I’m actually in the process of moving homes. The last one was… let’s say misused. There”s a lot to coordinate, and quite frankly, I don’t have the energy to handle it. Would you be open to starting soon? As in tomorrow. And possibly moving in — at least for the initial setup. You could absolutely move out at a later time.”

I held up my hand. “To recap this conversation: 1) you don’t mind the fact that I’m a recovering alcoholic, 2) you’d like me to start immediately, and 3) it’s a live-in position. Did I get all that right?”

“You did. We haven’t discussed pay yet, but I want to assure you I can pay whatever you need as compensation. I don’t think I can lose you now that I’ve met you.”

I visibly jolted at the words.

Weren’t they merely an altered version of some I’d heard before? In another life at another time, I’d had a man tell me I was more important to him than words could describe.

And yet that same man took our secret to his grave, never once letting those closest to us know how deeply we loved one another. Or rather, how deeply I loved him. I’ve come to see that his actions weren’t really that of love. Not a love I deserved anyway.

“What did I say?” Wes asked with narrowed eyes.

I shook myself to clear the bad memories. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

He hummed. “I’d bet you aren’t, but I’ll let you keep the thoughts to yourself. I hope that over time, you find you can share things with me if you feel I’ve overstepped. You have a voice and rights to use them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Where is this new home located? And what time tomorrow would you like me to arrive?” As I navigated us towards safer conversation, I closed off the part of me that wanted to overthink my past. It did me no good back then, it did me no good in rehab, and I highly doubted it would benefit me in any way moving forward.

The past is just that — past.