Chapter TwoMicahOctober 7 #2
When she disappears into her office, I breathe easier.
She’s not the worst boss I’ve ever had, but…
she’s up there. I never feel like I can do anything right with her until an event goes well and she praises my ability to deal with all the details.
But then we’re right back into the doubt every time she tells me to keep my head down and stop inserting myself where I don’t belong.
This event, though. This one will prove that I have what it takes.
I settle at my desk and once again run through what I know about the prospective client.
Lila had me do some research on Grant Bradley, and I couldn’t find a whole lot of info on the internet.
So I asked Chad to look into him. My big brother is the best private investigator in Sun City, and when he told me Grant was one bad business deal away from going bankrupt, I figured I should believe him.
I kept that information away from Lila, knowing she would cut ties if there was any risk that she wouldn’t get paid. And this is one event that I can’t let anyone else handle.
The Greenwood Lodge has been open since 1927, though it’s been remodeled and rebuilt a few times.
It’s only a couple of hours from here, high up in a little mountain range where it gets snow five months of the year.
Though there’s not a whole lot up there outside of the lodge itself and a nearby ski resort, it’s nestled in such a picturesque place that people go there to get away from the world.
It’s where my parents were married.
I’ve always wanted to get married there too. I feel like maybe if I do, my mom will be there with me.
Basically, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure we get to pull off this grand reopening because I refuse to let anyone ruin the place that means so much to me.
When the elevator dings, I hop to my feet and hurry over to greet Mr. Bradley with the friendliest welcome he’s ever gotten. Make sure he has no reason to find another event planner.
The elevator doors open onto a younger man than I expected. He doesn’t quite look like his picture, but there are enough similarities there that I’m pretty sure it’s Grant. Maybe he lost a bunch of weight recently?
“Mr. Bradley!” I say brightly and hold out the cup of coffee I have ready for him. Black. Disgusting. “Welcome to Ember Events! I’m Micah, Lila’s assistant, and on behalf of everyone here at Ember, I would like you to know that we are so glad you’ve chosen us for this momentous event.”
Mr. Bradley blinks, glancing down at the coffee cup for a long moment before taking it from me and taking a sip. He looks a little shell shocked, which probably means I overdid my welcome. Oops .
I don’t let my smile falter. “I’m really impressed with the work you’ve done, Mr. Bradley, and I can’t wait to see what you do with the Greenwood.”
“Is that so?” He narrows his eyes at me. Goodness, his eyes are dark. They’re practically black, and combined with his dark brown hair and pale skin, he’s quite striking. Like, in a dark and broody handsome morally gray hero kind of way. “What has been your favorite project?”
This feels like a test. Good thing I’m good at tests. I may not always remember facts afterward, but I’m an excellent test taker. “That shopping center that you revitalized a few years ago was pretty amazing.”
Mr. Bradley takes a long swig of coffee. “The center failed. Lost millions. It’s a health clinic now.”
“But it would have remained empty if you hadn’t stepped in and updated everything. That’s one of the best clinics in the city now.”
“Hmm. I suppose you’re right.”
This guy is not giving me much to work with. I decide to try throwing another bone to see if I can improve his mood before I take him to Lila. “And I’ve seen pictures of that apartment building over on Twenty-third Street. It looks gorgeous.”
“It’s half-empty. Can’t find any renters on that side of town.”
Well that’s depressing. Does he only focus on the bad things in life? No wonder he needs an event planner for this reopening. Without us, it would probably be the lamest party ever.
I take a deep breath, putting as much enthusiasm into my smile as I can without looking downright crazy. It’s a delicate balance. “Would you like to come to the conference—”
“Grant is running late.” He takes another sip of coffee, still looking at me like I’m on the wrong side of energetic. There’s a small spark in his eyes though.
I lose my smile. “You’re not Grant?”
With another sip of coffee, he holds out his hand. “Fischer. Grant’s assistant. He should be here any minute.”
Why in the world did he make me believe he was Mr. Bradley? “Oh,” I say. What else can I say? Now I feel stupid. But hey, it’s good to know I’m not the only assistant who knows everything about the company they work for.
“Grant doesn’t drink coffee anymore,” he adds, and I realize he’s still holding out his hand.
I take it, surprised by how soft his skin is.
Fischer the Assistant must have a great moisturizing routine, and I’m tempted to ask him if he does.
But I get distracted by the way my little hand seems to disappear against his.
I’m small to begin with, but I like when a guy has bigger hands than me.
He’s fairly slim, pretty tall—like, of the over six feet variety—and his well-tailored suit surprises me.
You don’t see a lot of assistants looking this professional. I like a man who can dress well.
Not that I’m looking at Fischer as a prospective date. He’s a client, which means I should probably let go of his hand.
“How long have you been working with Bradley Properties?” I ask, tucking my arms behind my back.
Placing his free hand in the pocket of his suit pants, Fischer shrugs. “A while.”
Not vague at all. “Are you excited for the lodge reopening? This could be big for your company.”
His lips twitch. Not with a smile but with a scowl that I’m pretty sure he’s holding back. “It could be,” he agrees and then pulls out his phone, looking at the screen for a moment. “Grant just got to the building.”
Before I can respond, Lila’s voice makes me jump. “Miss Taylor! What are you doing just standing there? Why didn’t you tell me Mr. Bradley was—oh.” She comes to a stop beside me and lifts a penciled eyebrow as she examines Fischer. “You’re not Grant.”
Oh, she did not just slip into her flirty voice!
Fischer is probably ten years younger than her!
Sure, he’s relatively attractive—okay, he’s really attractive—but he’s not going to agree to go out with her just because she’s single and ready to mingle.
Yeah, last week I told her she needed to get back out there when she was crying about getting divorced, but I didn’t mean for her to hit on the first attractive guy she came across!
Besides, Fischer’s eyebrows keep dipping lower with every second he’s here, and I don’t think he appreciates being ogled by my boss.
“Lila,” I say, surreptitiously stepping between them, “this is Fischer. Mr. Bradley’s assistant. Mr. Bradley is on his way up right now.”
Lila holds out her hand in that way that makes it look like she’s hoping for a kiss on the knuckle rather than a handshake. “And where did Grant find you, Fischer?”
Fischer keeps his hands to himself this time, no longer hiding his scowl. “I apologize for the delay, Mrs. Tate.”
“It’s Ms. now,” she purrs. Gross.
Fischer responds with a low noise. Did he just…growl? I’ve never heard anyone growl before. It’s one of those things that I read in books all the time but didn’t think was a real thing, but Fischer just let out a deep rumbling sound in his throat that could only be described as a growl.
I really hope it was a growl of irritation, not as a response to Lila’s purr.
Thankfully, the elevator dings again, and a man who is definitely Grant Bradley steps onto our floor. Lila’s whole demeanor shifts, and she practically shoves me aside so she can be the one to greet him.
Okay, so she literally shoves me, knocking me off balance and into Fischer.
He grabs me by the shoulder, helping me stay on my feet, and that gives me an up close and personal feel of the man beneath the suit.
AKA a lot more solid muscle than I expected.
Sure, he probably tensed before the collision, but Fischer is hiding a lot beneath his no-nonsense exterior.
“Sorry,” I mutter, rubbing my wrist because it crumpled between my ribs and Fischer’s abs.
His scowl is still in place. “Don’t worry about it.”
Lila is talking nonstop about who knows what, but with the way Mr. Bradley hasn’t looked away from her for a second, she seems to be doing okay. Sometimes she can talk a person’s ear off and drive them crazy, so I have to be ready to cut her off if Mr. Bradley starts getting jumpy.
In the meantime, I try to sneak a peek at Fischer to see how he hides his strength so well.
That’s when I notice the coffee spilled across Fischer’s torso and the crumpled cup in his hand. “Oh! Are you sure I don’t need to worry?”
He glances down, one eye twitching. “Uh.”
“Let me show you where the bathrooms are.” I only make it one step before Lila calls my name.
“Miss Taylor, will you show Mr. Bradley to the conference room while I gather the planning team?”
I grimace at Fischer before nodding and grabbing the file folder I prepared. “Right this way, Mr. Bradley. Can I get you anything?”
“A coffee would be great,” Mr. Bradley replies.
Fischer makes a sound that’s somewhere between a cough and a groan as he follows us to the conference room, though I’m not sure what it’s supposed to mean. Either he’s wrong about his boss or he lied to me about the coffee so he could steal it.
“I’ll be right back with that coffee,” I say, though the break room coffee isn’t going to be nearly as good as the roast I bought in the lobby downstairs. The one Fischer is currently wearing.
Just as I get out into the hallway, I hear Fischer say, “Are you sure a coffee is a good idea?”