5. Margeaux
5
MARGEAUX
“So we need filings for Blue Jeans in Low Beams as brand, then also the logo, the tagline, plus the art, correct?” I verify, flipping through the paperwork in my lap.
I shift in the large leather guest chair across from Bronwyn Ainsworth, Hayes’s director of marketing, making sure I don’t drop anything. Last thing I want is to litter her office with my paperwork. Not to mention, having to reorder this stack would be a nightmare. The honey-haired gal about my age presses her lips together, nodding as she thinks.
“Yup. We did this way out of order for my liking, and next time we will have all this in the works well before we launch a product, but…here we are.”
She shrugs casually, her northern accent not quite as out of place as it was when Percy first introduced us. I’d been so excited when he told me that he wanted me to assist with trademark filings for the new Southern Brothers products that I had apparently missed his comment about her accent. It wasn’t until Percy jokingly said “see, I told you she talked funny” that I recalled Gus telling me how he was abandoning his new hire from Boston when we were stuck at JFK and put two and two together.
“Meh,” I tell her. “Not the worst I’ve handled.”
“Oh, good. Then you’ve been officially voluntold to help with the All Snowed Gin stuff once we get all that figured out.”
I laugh, debating whether or not I should tell her that I’m more than willing to take it on. That it would actually be a dream come true. I opt to hold back though. No need to scare my new coworkers yet. I’m only on day four—they don’t need to know exactly the kind of overzealous nerd they hired.
“So, how are you liking Hayes so far? Everyone being nice?” she asks.
“I like it,” I reply, wondering what she knows. Just how much of this question is pure curiosity and how much of it is because she’s been filled in on the gossip? Gus told me that Bronwyn is basically extended family, since her fiancé is twins with Willa’s boyfriend, leaving me a little cautious. “I’m still getting settled, but I’m excited. This might sound weird to say, but this is kind of my dream job. Doing this, at a company like Hayes, is exactly what I’ve wanted for a long time, so I’m excited.”
Bronwyn beams. Sitting up straight, her eyes go wide and I can tell that my comment sparked something in her. And not because she was fishing for information.
“That doesn’t sound weird at all. If there is anyone in this building who knows that feeling, you’re talking to her. That’s why I moved here from Boston. I was with Coffman Witte prior to Hayes.”
“Sulonen.”
“No way! Coffman Witte did a bunch of work with Sulonen!” Her smile widens, clearly loving that she’s found another corporate nerd. “That also means that I get how overwhelming this place can be at first. I had to create a little device so I could remember which Hayes was over which department when I first started.”
“You created a device?”
Bronwyn nods proudly. “Gus, the oldest, usually has a grumpy look on his face. G is for grumpy and Gus. Next in line is Milo, like the cat from that old movie, and at the time he had this one curl that flopped in his face, that a cat would want to play with. He runs Southern Brothers Brewing with his best friend, Brandt. Third is Anton and A for agriculture. Huxley, his name has an X, like ax, and he’s the lumberjack-esque one.”
I huff out a laugh. I’ve only met Gus and Milo so far, but I don’t volunteer that information. Nor do I own up to our history, or that he’s filled me in on his family. I’m interested in hearing her account of each one and how they’ll differ. Because while I’ve never seen Gus’s grumpy side, and Milo’s hair is shorter now, I’ve heard the grumpy thing a time or two, so I trust it’s accurate. More than anything, I’m impressed with how effortlessly she’s rattling this information off.
“Jace rhymes with mace, so of course, personal safety. Then Ewan, as in ‘ew, camping, fishing, hunting,’ all the things I personally have no interest in doing. And there’s Willa who?—”
“What about me?”
A beautiful, tall, leggy blonde sashays into Bronwyn’s office, almost as if she’s gliding on water, confidence radiating off her like heat off asphalt. Even if she hadn’t self-identified, there would be no question in my mind that she was Gus’s baby sister. Their coloring is complete opposite— her blonde hair and blue eyes probably a stark contrast to his dark hair and scruff when next to each other—but just like him and Milo, the family resemblance is uncanny.
“Willa, this is Margeaux, the new gal in legal. Margeaux, meet Willa Hayes.”
A devilish smile spreads across Willa’s face as she lowers herself into the other guest chair, turning to face me. My cheeks heat up, already feeling the attention, unsure where this is going to go.
No, that’s not true. I know where this is going. While I haven’t seen much of Gus since our encounter outside of payroll on my first day, we have been texting. It’s been nice to spend my evenings talking to him. Do I wish that we were sitting on my couch together having a real conversation over a bottle of wine or a pizza instead of generic “how was your day” messages in between unpacking boxes? Of course. But I will take what I can get.
Either way, a few of those messages have let me know that Milo wasted no time in raising the alarm via the family group text that there was a new development in the JFK airport bar saga. To be fair, I can’t blame him. Had one of my brothers done what Gus had, I’d be doing the same thing. As I trust they would be for me.
That’s what siblings do, right?
“Margeaux.” Willa says my name like it’s the latest in high fashion, a high-value brand who made up a new word that sounds foreign now but will be a household name before long. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’m sorry I haven’t made it down to introduce myself yet.”
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Bronwyn’s brow furrow. “Because you introduce yourself to every new employee? You’re suddenly the welcome wagon?”
Her sarcasm is hard to miss, but Willa doesn’t skip a beat. “ Gus mentioned that we had a new legal associate and that he thought it would be nice if we got to know each other.”
I’ve got ten bucks that’s not at all what Gus said…
The wicked glint in Willa’s eye tells me that she knows. More than that, she knows that I know that she knows.
Oh, I like this girl already. I totally understand why Gus says that she's dangerous. Because as a friend, she's exactly the kind of girl you want by your side.Crazy, mischievous.And always seems to be up to no good in the back of her mind.
But as a little sister, she's kind of cunning and devious as well.Making me really happy she's not my little sister.
“I’d like that,” I say, being honest.
I need friends in Hickory Hills. Especially female friends. Moving here was the right thing for me, I have no doubt. But it did mean starting over again. And if the only thing I can have with Gus is friendship, I might as well also have a friendship with his sister.
Might help me take my mind off all the non-friendship things I want with her brother.
All of the things that kept me up late last night with the vibrator I made sure to unpack right away once I was “introduced” to said brother. Not that we’re going to tell Willa that.
“Good! Tomorrow night, Pour Decisions.”
“Oh, I can’t tomorrow. I told this couple who live in the apartment across from mine that I would meet up with them tomorrow.”
Willa blinks for a second, staring blankly at me. Almost as if she can’t believe that I turned her down. Part of me would guess this is something that doesn’t happen very often.
“Are they Hayes employees?” Bronwyn asks, scrambling to fill the space Willa’s disbelief opens up. “If so, I bet you’re going to Pour Decisions. Hell, even if they aren’t Hayes employees. Because let’s face it, there are only so many places you can go in Hickory Hills.”
Touché…
“Marisela and Alex Hernandez. They?—”
“Oh!” Willa waves me off. “Alex is Anton’s production manager over in produce, and Marisela is the seasonal employment coordinator. You’ll be at Pour Decisions.”
Well, that settles that then. I knew they both worked for Hayes, since they live in Hayes House—the ancestral family mansion that had been converted into housing for employees—and that he worked in the Ag division, but that was as far as we had gotten while they had helped me move some boxes up the stairs. Their invite to join them for drinks out Friday night after work had seemed more than a little generous considering that we’d barely spoken, but who was I to say no?
And truthfully, this works well. Because if it turns out that my neighbors are a little weird, I have an escape. Not that I’m assuming they are. They’re probably wonderful people. But just in case. Because you never know. Look what happened the last time I met someone random in a bar.
Oh, wait…
“Sounds like a plan then.”
I smile, my heart squeezing at the memory of the last time I was in a bar. Because yes, I really have spent the last year avoiding them—which wasn’t as difficult as it sounds. Third year of law school plus an internship with a high-profile intellectual property attorney doesn’t leave much time for random nights out. Throwing yourself into work to forget about a broken heart also serves as a great excuse to shut out the world.
“Perfect!” The devilish glint returns to Willa’s eyes. “We can introduce you to everyone.”
Wait… Everyone?!
I swallow hard, my mind running wild with what she means by that. Just how many everyones are there? Does she mean her siblings? Her friends? The whole of Hickory Hills? Gus warned me that this town has a wicked rumor mill—which tracks; all small towns do. Hell, our neighborhood back in New Orleans has one. Tell the right person the right piece of information, and it’ll travel across three blocks faster than you blink.
That broken heart—the one whose pieces are still trying to wrap their head around friendship —is now suddenly very concerned about everyone .
“Since when is my father’s office on the second floor?” A bright-eyed brunette bursts into the office, sounding tired breathing heavily, slumping against the doorjamb.
“It’s not,” Bronwyn answers. “Payroll is still downstairs.”
“Always has been,” Willa adds.
“Fucking Pixie…” the brunette mutters. “I swear she’s trying to punish me because she was slow on the uptake about Milo and me. Like somehow that was my fault.”
Willa and Bronwyn sputter out a laugh, and I look between the two of them, trying to piece together what’s so funny.I’m missing something.
“Head that way,” Willa tells her, hitching a thumb over her shoulder. “Left at the ficus, down the stairs, and payroll will be on your right.”
Giving us a salute, the brunette disappears as quickly as she showed up, leaving me just as in the dark as I was. Yeah, I’m definitely missing something.
“Oh shit, we should have introduced you!” Willa sighs, slumping back into the chair. “Good friend I am.”
Friend…
My insides relax, an ease settling through me, unclenching parts that had subconsciously tensed up.
“That was Brenna Rawlins. ”
“As in Brandt? The other owner of Southern Brothers?”
“His sister,” Bronwyn responds. “But more importantly now, she’s Milo’s girlfriend. And the inspiration for Blue Jeans.”
She holds up the sketch of the old-fashioned red truck in a wide-open meadow at dusk, its yellow headlights slightly obscured by a pair of blue jeans tossed across the hood. Waggling her eyebrows, her unspoken message is perfectly clear.
“Ohhh…”
“And Pixie, the middle-aged woman with tangerine-colored hair and Coke-bottle glasses at reception, is none too pleased that she was one of the last to know. She has a status to uphold after all.”
I nod, not knowing what else to say to that. Because what do you say to that?
“Welcome to Hickory Hills!” Bronwyn exclaims, arms outstretched wide. “Yes, this is really the shit that goes on. You’d think we didn’t have the Internet.”
Laughter bursts out of me before I can stop myself. Thankfully, Willa and Bronwyn aren’t far behind. Damn, this feels good. Like I’m being initiated into the sorority. Maybe meeting everyone won’t be so bad.
My phone buzzes, startling me and shifting the papers in my lap from the vibration. I sneak a look, unable to hold back my smile as I read my brother’s text.
David
You’re 4 days in. Got us that new Southern Brothers yet? ;)
Working on it. Keep your pants on
I shake my head, chuckling as I look up, my eyes locking immediately with Willa’s. Her I’m-up-to-no-good twinkle has returned, and she’s not even bothering to hide it.
Oh yeah, she’s trouble. And I kind of love it.
“It’s just my brother,” I tell her, shrugging casually.
Smirking, she pushes to her feet, turning to go. “Oh, based on that smile, I thought maybe it was my brother…”
Busted…