Chapter 53
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Maren
Coffee with my two best friends is exactly what I need today.
Since Arietta and Bianca have never met, and both wanted some time with me, I thought this was the perfect solution.
We’re at a crowded café in midtown.
Bianca chose this place because she knew she’d be in the neighborhood. Arietta agreed to show up after telling me that she banked so many hours that she was entitled to a little extra time away from the office today.
I’m the luckiest of the bunch.
So far, my day has consisted of speaking with the caterers and stopping by Wild Lilac. It’s a floral shop owned by Athena Millett. She’s engaged to Liam Wolf, who happens to be one of Keats’s closest friends.
Athena knew who I was immediately. She made me feel at home.
While I sat and sipped a cup of tea she made for me, she arranged a gorgeous arrangement of white flowers for the centerpiece for our table tonight.
It was too large for me to carry to the townhouse, so she’s having it delivered late this afternoon.
After this much-needed coffee date, I’m going home to shower, and then I’ll head to Keats’s place to get all the last-minute details in order.
He’ll be waiting for me there since he’s working from home today.
“You’re beautiful, Arietta.” Bianca gazes at my roommate. “Your bone structure is perfection.”
Arietta smiles. “I can say the same about you, Bianca.”
Bianca pats the top of Arietta’s hand. “Maren tells me you work for Dominick Calvetti.”
Arietta sighs. “It’s true. Mr. Calvetti is my boss.”
“My deepest sympathies.” Bianca giggles. “He’s a fucking tyrant.”
Arietta laughs. “You know him.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement.
Bianca shakes her head. “I don’t, but I’ve heard enough stories about him to understand that you are truly a saint.”
Arietta takes a sip from the mug of green tea she ordered. “We should be talking about Maren’s boss.”
I inch up a brow. “We should?”
“You mean Maren’s fake boyfriend.” Bianca points a finger at me. “Who knew Maren had that in her?”
My roommate’s brow furrows. “Fake boyfriend? What do you mean?”
Dammit.
I never told Arietta about that because things shifted so quickly between Keats and me.
Bianca tosses me a look meant to convey her regret for bringing it up, but I chase that away with a soft smile.
“Remember that night I went to Nova with Keats for a business dinner?”
Arietta nods. “You went to meet a baseball player.”
“Fletcher Newman,” Bianca clarifies.
“When he walked into the restaurant with his dad, Keats was holding my hand and telling me that he wanted me to meet his brother and his niece.”
Arietta pushes her finger against the frame of her glasses. “Oh, boy.”
I nod. “They assumed we were dating, but Keats was trying to stop my hiccups and the invite to meet his family was something he said he did with all of his assistants. It was completely innocent...”
“But it didn’t look that way,” Bianca interjects.
I shake my head. “No. It looked like we were a couple, and from there, it just took off. The Newmans saw us as a strong team inside and outside of the office, so we went with it.”
Arietta scratches her chin. “Did they think you were a couple when you went to their anniversary party?”
I nod. “They did. They assumed we were together.”
Arietta drops her gaze to the mug in front of her. I don’t want her to feel disappointed in me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Arietta.”
She glances up. “Don’t be sorry. Everyone has secrets they don’t always share.”
“We’re good?” I ask, hopeful that this won’t change anything between us.
“We’re good,” she reassures me with a pat of her hand on my forearm. “Drink up, ladies. I need to go back to work soon.”
I took my time in the shower. It was both relaxing and invigorating. Now that I know that the Newmans have narrowed the field of potential agents to two, I’m more determined than ever to get Keats that contract.
I run a brush through my hair.
I’ve always had curly hair. I despised it when I was a teenager, but as I got older, I started to embrace it.
I love it now.
After applying moisturizer to my face, I set my ass down on the corner of my bed.
When I reach for my phone, I’m surprised to see a missed called from Royce Knott.
I debate whether or not I should listen to the voicemail message. I’m happy working with Keats. It feels as though we’re building a strong team. I may not be chasing my dream of a career in public relations, but this is the next best thing.
All of my experience and insight is helping me be the best assistant I can to Keats.
I finally tap the voicemail message icon to listen.
“Maren? Jesus. I am so sorry about what happened to you. I need to see you. Name the time and place. I want to make this right.”
The message ends with me staring at my phone.
I play it again.
The voice belongs to Royce Knott, but I’ve never heard compassion in his tone before.
I don’t like leaving anything unfinished, so I press the button to call his number.