Chapter 4

Eloise

What was wrong with me? I’d barely gotten any sleep on Sunday night. Having someone new in my house and around my work was clearly messing with my head. It was only a trial period but trusting someone new wasn’t easy for me.

Still, this level of fluttery nervousness was unusual for me. My morning routine was all over the place. I forgot how to make coffee and spilled my creamer and burned the toast. I’d scheduled Cadence to arrive mid-morning to give me some time to prepare for her. I had the paperwork ready, her list of duties, and I had her new work laptop all loaded with everything she would need. It was a risk, giving a new employee something like that. Hopefully she wouldn’t steal it. Nothing in her background check had come up about theft, but you never knew.

Cadence arrived right on time, which was a good sign. I opened the door after she rang the doorbell once. Truth be told, I’d been hovering in the entryway for at least ten minutes beforehand.

I hadn’t felt like this in years. Breathless and unsure. I didn’t like it.

“Good morning,” she said, smiling and making something inside me flutter. I clamped down on it and gave her a professional smile in return.

“Good morning. Come on in.” I held the door open for her and she walked in wearing pumps and a nice green dress with a black cardigan. There was a gold brooch pinned to the dress on her shoulder and I could tell she’d made an effort with her outfit. Her hair was pulled neatly back into a low bun that didn’t suit her.

“Wow,” she said and then bit her lip as if she hadn’t meant to say it.

“Would you like a tour first?” I asked. Normally I wouldn’t have, but she was gazing around with such naked appreciation that something made me ask.

“Yeah, absolutely,” she said, setting her bag down on the table in the foyer.

I took her around the house, not showing her everything, but still showing her more than she needed to know. And telling her more than she needed to know. I was proud of the upgrades I’d done over the years. The house had been a mess when I’d bought it and I’d put a lot of blood, sweat, and money into making it exactly what I wanted.

She seemed to take everything in, and I enjoyed watching her move around my house. Her eyes lit up when we got to my library and her mouth dropped open.

“Oh my god,” she said, a little whispered exhalation.

There was awe in her eyes that was so open and sweet that I had to look away from it. I was finding out Cadence was an expressive person during this tour. I’d seen glimpses of it during the interview, but it seemed like her guard was down a little more. It wasn’t until we made it back to the kitchen that I realized I hadn’t asked her if she wanted anything.

“Can I get you some coffee?”

She smiled and for a second I forgot what I’d asked her. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? As your assistant and all. Shit, should I have brought you coffee?” Her eyes went wide and I struggled to follow her quick words. “Oh shit, I shouldn’t have said shit.” She covered her mouth in horror.

It was so cute that I couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping from my mouth.

“Don’t worry about it, Cadence. As long as you can speak professionally when it counts, I don’t give a shit if you swear otherwise. As long as it isn’t excessive. Clear?” I said, and she nodded.

“Got it.”

It seemed like a good idea to move from the kitchen back to the office so I could show her what she needed to know. Her mouth dropped open in shock when I presented her with the laptop and gave her the passwords.

“This is for me?” she squeaked.

“Yes. It has everything on it you’ll need, including my sites, which are already bookmarked.”

She swallowed audibly as she touched the keyboard as if it was going to bite her.

“I can get you a keyboard and mouse if you’d rather use it as a desktop. Anything you need to make your job more comfortable, don’t hesitate to let me know. It’s a tax write off for me.”

She blinked a few times and nodded so I assumed she understood.

It was still up in the air as to whether she was going to handle all of this, but she’d brought a notebook and was taking a lot of notes, so that was a positive sign. She listened, but I did catch her eyes wandering every now and then and she’d sort of shake herself before looking back at me. Cadence also fluttered her hands randomly and did these little dances with her fingers that were interesting.

Observing her while she was with me was somehow more interesting than any of my work I was supposed to be doing. She’d thrown my whole schedule off and I knew it was going to bother me later tonight, but right now having her with me was enough of a distraction.

Tomorrow I’d enforce my framework. Today was her first day and I needed to ease her in.

My main need for her was to wade through my inbox and prioritize emails, flagging the most important and making me aware of them right away. And then there was the endless website management. I’d had a website with a thriving community for decades at this point and moderating it and updating was a full-time job in itself. I’d been doing my best, but it had gotten way out of hand and the site was suffering as a consequence.

“This is a really impressive site,” she said, once I’d taken her through everything and logged her in the back end.

“Thank you. It’s a mess right now, but I’m hoping you can bring it back to its former glory,” I said, and she looked scared again but then she clenched her jaw and nodded again.

“Content moderation is key. I have volunteer admins, but you’ll be in charge of wrangling them and dealing with any larger crises that evolve. And there have been a few,” I said. Some of them over the years had gone viral and I’d had to step in myself and set people straight on how things worked in my little community.

Even this many years into being a somewhat famous author it still shocked me that people cared so much about what I had to say. It made posting in public a little harrowing, because every word would be scrutinized and dissected by my fans. They would read into anything and think I was giving them hidden messages about new books or old books or lore.

“I’m sure. That’s inevitable when you’ve got a group of people on the internet together. Regular social norms go out the window and anarchy rules. I’ve done moderation before, so that’s nothing new.” I had seen that on her résumé, so I was glad she seemed confident about this task.

“Why don’t you take a little while and just familiarize yourself with the site and my posts and everything else?” I asked. I needed some coffee immediately.

Cadence sat down at the chair I’d pulled up for her at the second desk that Mary used to occupy. I swallowed past a lump in my throat when I thought about the last time a person had sat at that desk.

I rubbed my forehead where I could feel a headache starting to take root. Migraines had plagued me off and on for years, but if I took my medicine now, I could head it off at the pass. The stress of having a new employee must have triggered it.

When I stood up, I found Cadence watching me and not her computer. “Do you need anything? I was serious about the coffee. I can make you a snack or something too.” Mary had always fed me whether I wanted her to or not, but Cadence was still a stranger to me, and I wasn’t comfortable with her rummaging around in my fridge just yet.

“Coffee is fine for now,” I said, and then realized that I’d have to show her how I liked it. It might be her first day, but she was going to learn. “Come with me.”

She followed me into the kitchen and watched as I pulled out the French press and gave her exacting instructions on how much coffee to use, how to pour, and how long the process would take.

“This is very expensive coffee and I don’t want it wasted. Understood?”

She’d been furiously scribbling and looked up, nodding at me. “Yes.”

I’d probably scared her, but hopefully that meant she’d do it right.

“How do you take your coffee?” I asked when it was ready. She’d been writing more notes about who knew what in the meantime.

“Oh, uh, I like mine with a lot of creamer,” she said, her cheeks going a little red, as if she was embarrassed about her preferences. Honestly, it wasn’t surprising.

“I have cream, but if you want flavoring or something like that, you’re out of luck. I do have vanilla on hand. You can order whatever you need.”

That seemed to surprise her, so I got out the cream for both of us and the vanilla, as well as some sugar for me.

I made her watch while I poured the cream and added two spoonfuls of sugar.

“That’s the right color,” I told her. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture.

“There. Now I know what color to shoot for,” she said, and I had to admit, that made perfect sense. Maybe she was going to be a competent assistant after all.

* * *

Cadence

Being in her home was terrifying. Not just because I was afraid to break or damage or mess anything up, but also because she was kind of terrifying. Her presence was just…so assured. This was a woman who knew exactly who she was and had never questioned it. Her authority was also unquestioned and now I was required to meet her expectations and I was scared as hell.

She hadn’t even asked me to do anything that hard, but she watched my every move and missed nothing. If I made a single typo, this woman was going to know. She wouldn’t even need to look. She’d just sense it.

As a result, I was on edge the entire day. It was exhausting. I sat straight in my chair and did my best not to fidget or make any excessive noise. I’d never been to catholic school, but it was how I imagined that would be, with disapproving nuns walking around and punishing you if you breathed wrong.

I wanted to put on my headphones and turn on some music or a podcast or something, but apparently Eloise Roth liked silence. The most silent silence I’d ever experienced, and it was digging into my skin and making me want to scream. I’d have to deal with it today, but maybe in future I’d ask about headphones. Because I couldn’t live like this.

The day crawled by as I tried to get a handle on this new job. Eloise had asked me to come in person all this week so I could come to her with any questions right away. I assumed it was also so she could keep an eye on me with this expensive new laptop that I was so worried about damaging or dropping. At least she’d bought a protective case.

The second desk that I guess was mine now was positioned perpendicular to hers so I could see her out of the corner of my eye. All the time. To say she was a distraction was a massive understatement.

I’d never seen someone have such intense focus in my life. She typed the way she did everything else. With intense purpose. I didn’t need to read what she’d worked on today to know that there were probably very few typos or mistakes. I bet she was an editor’s dream.

Her pace was steady, barely ever stopping or pausing. I wanted to ask her how many pages she wrote every day. What had gotten her started writing. If she loved it. She must love it, right? You didn’t do something for that long that required that much work without loving it. At least I couldn’t. But then I could barely commit to any kind of career in the long term. Eventually I’d get bored and stop trying. Or something else would go wrong.

Eloise ordered out for lunch, and even though I’d brought one with me, she asked what I wanted and I couldn’t say no. She’d ordered from a really fancy place that I never would have gotten to eat from if Eloise hadn’t said “order whatever you want.” I got a hold of myself and didn’t order the most expensive thing, but I couldn’t say no to a poke bowl and miso soup with a soda.

Eloise asked if I wanted to eat outside and I was curious about the backyard after I’d seen it through the windows. Her house was unreal. As in, it was hard to believe it was real. Every inch decorated and curated and filled with things. Not just books, but framed art and figurines and real plants and antique tables. There was even a grandfather clock that I really liked. The woman had a fucking china cabinet. With china in it. Her house reminded me of those ’90s romantic movies. Warm with tons of light.

We sat outside on the huge porch in comfortable chairs that reclined. There were a number of bird feeders dotted around the perfectly manicured lawn. On one side by the fence was a little garden that I couldn’t imagine she tended herself. The beds were laid out beautifully with stone borders and an arch with roses climbing on it.

“Someday I might put in a pond,” Eloise said as we sat down to eat. Now that we weren’t working, I had no idea what the hell to say to her. I was surprised that she’d asked to eat with me. I would have thought she might want some privacy or something.

“That would look nice,” I said as I watched Eloise wield her chopsticks to eat her spicy tuna bowl.

Figuring that lunchtime chatting was allowed, I went for it. “Can I ask you something?”

She paused and glanced over at me. “That depends on what it is.”

“I was just wondering how you got started writing. I know you’ve talked about it in interviews, but what’s the real non-PR story?” After the job interview, I’d read her bio and scanned a few of the interviews that she had on her site.

Eloise studied me for a moment, and I did my best not to flinch too much.

“What makes you think the story I’ve told isn’t the truth?” she asked, turning things around on me.

“Maybe it is. I’d still like to hear your story from you,” I said, wanting to cross my arms. Something inside me fizzed pleasantly as I challenged her just a little.

Eloise pressed her lips together and nodded. “Let’s just say that I grew up without a lot. So from the time I was young, I was determined to be financially successful. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I was going to be good at it. There was no other option. I had an English teacher in high school who saw some potential in me and gave me the spark I needed to start writing outside of class assignments. At first it was just short stories and I won a few small awards. Nothing major, but I knew I had a skill and I was going to use it. Then I went to college on a full scholarship and worked full time to save money. And then I wrote when I could. That English teacher had a contact at a large romance publisher and suggested I try my hand at it. They agreed to publish my first manuscript and then I went searching for a literary agent and found Sylvia, who I’ve been with ever since. That book hit the bestseller list and so did the next. Nearly every book I’ve ever written has hit a list and earned out my advances. I work hard. Every day. Year after year. Ass in my chair.” Hearing her say the word “ass” did something funny to my stomach.

She looked incredible when she was talking like that. I didn’t even know what to say to that.

“Oh,” I finally came up with.

“Any other questions?” She didn’t look mad, exactly, but there was something guarded about her now.

I shouldn’t ask, but my impulsivity was part of my charm. At least I hoped it was. “Do you love it?”

She sat back, as if I’d surprised her with that question.

Then she exhaled and laughed a little. It transformed her face and for a second I felt like I was staring into the full force of the sun. She was blinding.

“Yes, I love it. Even when I don’t.”

We finished lunch and went back to work and I still hated the silence, but I was trying to be on my best behavior. Somehow, I’d almost made it through the entire day without messing anything up. I was on a roll.

An alarm went off that startled me.

“Quitting time,” Eloise announced, stretching her arms over her head. She sighed and I realized I needed to get up and move around. I’d been sitting too long.

“You did well today,” she said, nodding as she closed her laptop.

“Uh, thanks. It wasn’t so bad.”

She stretched her neck and then started doing some exercises with her wrists. “Remember I have Pilates tomorrow morning, so you don’t need to be here until ten thirty.”

“I could pick you up coffee on my way,” I said. She’d handed over a debit card for me to use which shocked me so much I almost choked on my own tongue. Between that and the laptop, this woman was putting a lot of trust in me. Sure, I’d signed contracts and so forth, but still.

Eloise did that thing where she pressed her lips together. “I’m sending you my order. Don’t get it wrong.” I sure as shit was going to try not to.

She typed out a message on her phone and mine pinged a second later. Not only did she have a specific order, but she demanded that I go not to one of the chain coffee places near my apartment, but the fancy place that was a bitch to get to. Fun. But I guess she was paying me enough to have the coffee that she wanted, so I was going to deliver. She hadn’t asked for anything with the coffee, but I made a decision right then and there to find out what she liked. I’d start with regular croissants and work my way through the pastries.

“Any plans tonight?” she asked. On a normal night, I might have gone to hang out with Hunter and Reid or gone out to dinner, but I was so completely and totally drained from this day that all I wanted was a shower and to let my brain shut off with some terrible TV and a piece of cake the size of my head. I’d have to pick the cake up on the way home, but it was a good reward after a job well done. Well, a job done, at any rate. I didn’t think I was going to be winning an assistant awards, but I’d done what she asked. Sorted her old emails into folders and backed up the website and updated things and had deleted comments on her social media. It wasn’t rocket surgery, but I’d done a decent job. And I hadn’t made any horrible mistakes or faux pas. That was a victory too.

“No, nothing special,” I said. “Uh, you?” It seemed rude not to ask.

“Having dinner with my best friend, Camille. You’ll meet her at some point. She lives close by and she’s more like a sister than a friend.” She pointed to a framed picture on the wall of what had to be a younger Eloise and a gorgeous blonde woman holding each other and laughing as they stood in front of a sunset.

“Girl’s night. Sounds like fun,” I said.

“Mmm, not exactly. She has a husband and three kids, so it’ll be less margaritas and dancing on tables and more pizza and board games.”

This conversation was throwing me again. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who would want to spend her night hanging with a bunch of kids. More like she’d go out to a fancy bar wearing a cocktail dress and drink martinis mysteriously and catch every single eye in the room but rejecting all advances. Aloof and untouchable.

“Well, that sounds fun too,” I said, trying to remember the last time I’d played a board game. Probably during some brunch thing with Hunter and Reid when I was hung over.

“It is,” she said, nodding and then rolling her neck in a way that made me need to look away.

“I, uh, should get going,” I said. “Let you get to your big plans.” Oh no. I was starting to do that thing I did when I didn’t have much control over what came out of my mouth and I was bound to say something inappropriate or embarrassing or both.

“You did well today, Cadence,” she said, and I wondered why she couldn’t call me Cade like everyone else, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to correct her. She could call me Crapface for all she wanted.

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow with coffee?” She nodded and we both walked out of the office together. Eloise followed me to the door.

“See you tomorrow.”

I waved like a dumbass before rushing to my car and shutting the door before I could do anything else to humiliate myself in front of her.

Hunter was sittingon the couch in the living room when I got back to my place.

“You know you can’t just let yourself into people’s homes,” I said, dropping my bag and clutching onto the paper sack with the giant piece of red velvet cake that I’d picked up.

“I know,” Hunter said, leaning back and pulling a beer out of the grocery bag at her feet and holding it out to me. “But I brought booze. And you need someone to help you eat that cake.”

I hated how predictable I was. Cake was kind of my answer to a lot of things. Good day? Cake. Bad day? Cake. Medium day? Cake. Itch I can’t reach on my back? Cake. Got a good parking spot? Cake.

“Ugh, fine,” I said, but I was happy to see her.

“You know I had to find out how your day with the romance goddess went,” she said, and I cringed as I popped the top on the beer. Not my favorite, but it was free so I wasn’t complaining.

“Don’t call her that,” I said. “It’s weird. That’s my boss.”

Hunter shrugged and reached for the cake. “They better have given you two forks.”

They had.

I hadn’t eaten dinner yet, but there was no law against starting with dessert. And if there was a law, I would be the first one to break it.

“So, tell me how it was,” Hunter said as we attacked the cake together. It was a testament to how much I loved her that I was sharing at all.

“It was fine. No major disasters. Her house is ridiculous. It’s like stepping inside of a movie set or something. I felt like I was wandering around a museum and if I touched anything an alarm would go off. She bought me a laptop. A really nice one. And she likes quiet. Lots of quiet,” I said, my thoughts disjointed.

“But it was good and everything? You think it’s going to work for you?” I gulped at the beer, which was blessedly cold.

“I mean, it’s still too early to tell, but I think so? I don’t want to get ahead of myself and count on it.”

Hunter pointed at me with her fork. “Don’t do that. You’re amazing and smart and she is lucky to have you.”

“Thanks,” I said, and we went back to the cake. “How was your day?”

“Filmed a new tutorial. What do you think?” She turned and showed me her braided hair which was so fantastic that I didn’t even know how she had done it. Guess I’d have to watch the tutorial.

“Gorgeous.”

“I also worked on a new painting and taught my usual class and then I grabbed beer and came here. Productive day.” I didn’t know what I would do if I had Hunter’s kind of money. I liked to think I’d be altruistic and spend my time volunteering or something, but I’d probably spend it reading books and scrolling the internet and eating my weight in cake all day. Maybe I’d take up an expensive hobby and rent a house on the coast and wear caftans or something. There were so many possibilities when you had money.

I bet Eloise Roth had a caftan. She looked the type. I pictured her on the prow of a boat wearing a caftan over a bathing suit and staring off into the waves.

Shit. Naughty thoughts! I mentally slapped myself away from that kind of thought. You shouldn’t have thoughts like that about your boss.

“Cade?” Hunter said, and I realized she’d been talking to me and I hadn’t been listening. I’d been off in my little fantasy.

“Sorry, what?” I asked and Hunter’s eyes narrowed for a second.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, just drifted off for a second. You know me.” She did. Sometimes my brain didn’t want to focus on conversations and got distracted by something else.

“Okay,” she said, unphased before she repeated what she’d said. A story about someone in her yoga class.

I checked back in and tried not to have any more impure thoughts about my boss.