7. Daisy
DAISY
Who’s doing a great job? Who’s doing a great job?
Yeah, I was hyping myself up, dancing throughout my apartment. This past week went much better than I envisioned, and I was so thankful.
After the first day, I wasn’t sure if Anthony and I could fall into a normal boss-assistant routine.
But it turned out I didn’t have to worry, as the rest of the week was surprisingly smooth.
Anthony was a consummate professional. There were no flirty undertones or inappropriate glances.
Granted, I’d only been shadowing him three days out of the five, but it worked out well.
I was very positive about this. We’d just had a flirty start, that was all.
I couldn’t lose sight of how much I needed this job. Samantha had left a message that Thornton’s didn’t foresee filling the position in the new year and suggested I look elsewhere. I felt a little put out by it.
As soon as I walked in the door of my apartment, I’d changed from my office attire to something more casual—shorts, a T-shirt, and my favorite cowboy boots.
I figured they would also fit the vibe of a music festival, and there was nothing inappropriate about the outfit.
Anthony didn’t seem to care much about dress codes.
He only wore a suit the first day we met.
He’d had jeans on every day since, and he looked mighty fine in them.
I sprayed on my favorite perfume, Coco Mademoiselle, as I looked at myself in the mirror. I was just missing a cowboy hat, but even I knew that would be too much. You could take the girl out of North Dakota, but you couldn’t take North Dakota out of the girl.
Glancing at the time, I decided to call my parents before leaving for the festival. It would have to be a quick check-in, but I missed them. Finally, they answered after about a million rings.
“My girl, you look good. Where are you heading?” Mom asked. We were closer in age than most mothers and daughters because she had me at sixteen, much to my grandparents’ chagrin. She was almost like my best friend.
“The music festival.” We were on FaceTime, and it was good to see my parents and their happy faces.
“The one you’ve been working on all this week?” Dad asked.
“Exactly. Officially, I’m going for work, but I plan to enjoy myself too.”
“Good for you. You should do that. That boss of yours treating you all right?”
I nodded vigorously. “He’s been a perfect gentleman.”
When they first asked me about him, I made the mistake of telling them that he’d been a bit cold at the office and left out the flirty coffee and lunch parts. Now, they were convinced that Anthony was a tyrant.
“He’s going to be at the festival too,” I added.
“You won’t get to have too much fun, then,” Mom said, deflating. “It’s Friday evening. You should do something special for yourself.”
“I will, I promise.” Glancing at the wall clock, I added, “Right, I have to go. Sorry the call was so short.”
“Never you mind. Send us pictures.”
“Will do.”
We said our goodbyes, and a little homesickness hit like always as soon as I hung up. Maybe deep down I was a small-town girl after all.
As I was about to pocket my phone, I noticed a new message pop up. It was from Anthony.
Anthony: I’m running late.
Daisy: Okay, I’m just about to leave.
I bit the inside of my cheek.
Daisy: Is there a dress code?
Anthony: ?
I felt like an idiot as replied.
Daisy: I might look a bit like a weirdo.
Only after hitting Send did I realize it was perhaps not the most professional way to describe myself to my boss. But his next text took my breath away.
Anthony: You’re gorgeous, Daisy. Whatever you wear will be fine.
Was this flirty Anthony, or did he just want to put me at ease?
Then he texted again.
Anthony: Don’t fret. There’s absolutely no dress code.
He definitely just wanted to put me at ease, since he didn’t write anything else.
I checked the phone’s GPS again. It was going to take me a while to get there because I planned to use public transportation.
I quite liked all the options in New Orleans, especially the streetcar.
The only downside was that it wasn’t terribly reliable.
But I didn’t want to take an Uber even though I could probably expense it to the company. I was in the mood to explore a bit.
I boarded the streetcar a little while later.
Sitting by the window, I could really see the city and all its luscious trees and magnificent homes.
The history of New Orleans was vast, and I enjoyed learning about it all.
The route took me on some new streets, and I was enjoying the view.
I truly hoped that Samantha would come up with some local jobs because I wouldn’t mind staying here at all.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to have roots somewhere .
When I arrived at the venue, it was madness, but I loved it. The atmosphere was infectious. I wondered where Anthony was, but I didn’t want to text him yet. It was only seven thirty, and I wanted to explore a bit on my own. I’d always loved my hometown festivals as a kid.
As I walked around, I felt more at ease noticing others wore similar outfits. Even though the festival wasn’t country themed, I certainly could’ve worn my cowboy hat.
I passed several stages, food trucks, and bars. Since things seemed to be going smoothly, I went straight to the main bar, hoping to find Gregory.
Once I stepped inside, I realized that wasn’t going to be easy. The place was chock-full, and I soon gave up searching for Gregory and went to the bar. Maybe I’d run into him later.
I took out my phone to see if Anthony had texted.
Anthony: I’ll be there in a few minutes.
He’d sent me that five minutes ago. I replied right away.
Daisy: I’m in the main bar at the counter.
Anthony: I’ll join you in a second.
My stomach somersaulted. Play it cool, Daisy. Very, very cool. Anthony is your boss. You’ve just successfully completed your first week without any more awkward moments. Just behave professionally.
Suddenly, my attire felt like a mistake. Crap. Even I couldn’t take myself seriously wearing this. But I didn’t have time to overthink anything because I heard his voice a few seconds later.
“There you are.”
I turned around to face him, tipping my head back. “Hey.”
He glanced up and down my body. I simmered on the spot.
“I see you got into the festive mood pretty fast.”
I laughed. “I felt like dressing up for a music festival. I mean, this would be more appropriate for North Dakota than New Orleans, but I just went with the moment. I walked around once, and everything seems to be going fine.”
He nodded. “I spoke to Gregory, and he said the same.”
“Oh.” My shoulders slumped .
“You disapprove?” His tone was full of amusement.
“I figured we’d do that together so I could take notes. I didn’t bring the iPad, but I can do it on my phone.”
“Daisy, it’s Friday evening.”
“I know. But HR did say it’s part of my job to attend these things. I’m still on the clock.”
“Yes, but you don’t have to take notes.”
“Right. Then what are we doing?” I asked.
Anthony drew in a deep breath. He glanced at my lips and then down at my neck. Wait, was he looking at my pendant? I’d caught him doing that a few times this week.
“Just checking to see if there were any issues. So far everything looks good.” He winked at me, flashing a charming smile. “So we can have a little bit of fun.”
Oh sweet Lord. Is flirty Anthony back? No, he was more relaxed because we were out of the office, that was all.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Surprise me.”
“Local cocktail?”
“Sure, why not?”
“So, your repulsion to all things Southern only is with the food?”
I gasped theatrically, putting a hand on my chest. “It’s not repulsion. I just need a break from jambalaya. Somehow every stew smells like jambalaya lately. But… the daiquiri looks good.”
“All right. I’ll have a Vieux Carré.”
“What? No, I want that too. It sounds more sophisticated.”
Anthony grinned. “It just means ‘French Quarter,’ but in French.”
“I like the sound of it.”
“All right.” He asked the bartender to make us two Vieux Carrés.
“Maybe I should try a Sazerac too,” I said.
“Hell no, not here!”
My eyes widened at his vehement response. “Why not? ”
He leaned in closer to my ear. “The best one is at my brother Julian’s flagship bar. Nothing else even comes close. I’ll take you there one day.”
He straightened up, shaking his head—almost as if he was chastising himself.
My pulse sped up. “All right, boss.”
His eyes widened at the word “boss.” He quickly looked away, taking the drinks from the bartender.
As we clinked glasses, I found myself quite unable to meet his eyes.
He’s being perfectly polite, Daisy. Maybe more relaxed than in the office, but nothing more. Do not under any circumstances flirt with your boss!
I took a sip and licked my lips. “Mmm, this is good.”
I closed one eye, pondering its contents as I pushed a hip out. “Let me see… whiskey, cognac, and bitters, maybe.”
“Very good. Vermouth too,” Anthony said. “You know your alcohol.”
“I did some research before applying for that senior marketing position at Thornton’s.”
He cleared his throat and set his glass down. Then he focused his gaze on me. Making eye contact unnerved me, so instead I peered into my glass as if I found the ice cubes of utmost interest.
“How's the job search going?”
“Samantha is still on top of it. I’ve looked online myself, but there are no listings for senior marketing jobs.” I didn’t want to mention that Thornton’s told me to look elsewhere. Honestly, I was still coming to grips with that.
“And you’re not interested in any junior marketing position?”
I finally looked up at him. Oh, damn. After only one sip, his sex appeal had skyrocketed. How was I supposed to finish my drink?