Chapter 18
Whitney
“Good morning, Theo Hurst’s office, this is Whitney speaking,” I answer my phone absentmindedly as I pull up a Word document, hoping to get started on an outline for an online presentation Theo is giving at the end of the week.
Silence on the other end of the phone greets me and I glance over at my desk set, to make sure the line didn’t disconnect.
“Hello?” I say into the receiver.
Finally, whoever I’m on the call with clears their throat. “Whitney?”
“Yes?” I respond.
“As in, the Whitney I met at my gala last month?”
My eyes grow wide and I twist in my chair looking for something, anything that might convince me that I’m not on the phone with Theo’s mother right now.
But it’s no use.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hurst,” I respond, squeezing my eyes shut. Of all the days I had to answer the phone without looking at the caller ID. “What can I do for you this morning?”
“I was hoping to speak with my son,” she says. I hear her sniff and I can practically see her staring down her nose at me. “It appears he’s not answering any of my calls to his personal phone or answering my texts.”
“Theo is in an important meeting right now with regional development,” I inform her, keeping my tone professional. “I would be happy to take a message for you and let him know you called as soon as he’s free.”
“Yes, do that,” she says curtly, and I bite my tongue.
“Anything else I can do for you?”
It sounds like she’s thinking on the other line. “Yes, answer me this. Why are you answering my son’s work phone? I thought you came to the gala as his date. Am I incorrect?”
“No, ma’am,” I say, trying to ensure my voice doesn’t sound shaky. “I work for Theo. As his assistant.”
“I see,” she says, her voice dropping an octave. “Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Please do have my son call me at his earliest convenience. It seems I have much to discuss with him.”
“Of course,” I respond, just in time for her to click off the phone call.
“Any messages?” Theo asks as he shuffles through a few of the note cards I wrote up for him for his meeting this afternoon.
“Yes, actually.” I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “Your mother called, and she seemed most perturbed that I was the one answering your office phone.”
Theo’s eyes snap to mine and his eyebrows pull in at the middle. “What did she say?”
“Not much, but she gave off the impression that she was about to have words with you for bringing your assistant to her charity gala last month.” I grimace as I say it, then bury my face in my hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do.”
Theo’s large hand rests on my shoulder drawing my attention back to him.
When I look at him, I see a soft expression on his face.
He crouches down so he’s at eye level, his knees cracking as he goes, making me want to make a joke about his old age.
But I don’t, my mind too distraught at the thought of his mother despising me for being beneath her son’s station.
“I’ll talk to her,” he says, holding my gaze steady. “Don’t let this bother you too much. For someone so focused on class, she can be very…” he hesitates, “uncouth, sometimes.”
“I don’t want her to hate me.”
“She couldn’t. Not if she gets the chance to get to know you,” he says as he trails his fingers down my arm. “I’m sorry, Whit. I hate that I wasn’t available to weather my mother for you.”
I give a shrug and force a smile. “It’s okay. Hopefully she’s not too mad at you.”
He laughs. “I can handle my mother, trust me. How about we get dinner tonight? Take your mind off this whole thing?”
“Oh, I can’t tonight.”
His lips twitch into a smirk. “Back to playing hard to get, huh?”
I laugh now and shake my head. “No, not on purpose. Leila’s coming over tonight. We always have a girls’ night this first weekend in October. Long-standing plans.”
Theo nods grimly. “Well then, I can’t intrude. Maybe another night.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise,” I tease.
“Perfect. Enough talk about my mother, please. Let’s see if we can find other things to keep that pretty mind of yours busy today.”
Theo does find plenty of other ways to keep my mind from straying into the dark thoughts throughout the day.
He keeps coming up with excuses to pull me off to the side, out of eyesight, so he can kiss me until I’m melting against him.
Or he’ll send me funny messages through our messaging application that make me laugh out loud.
I’m grateful for any and all distractions he provides. And they definitely make the day go by quicker. As I’m on my way out, Theo gives me a fond smile and tells me to call him this weekend if I’m missing him.
I wink at him as I wave goodbye, knowing there’s a good chance I’ll be doing exactly that.
Later that evening, when my doorbell rings, I hurry out of my bedroom and over to the door to unlatch it.
Leila stands right at my threshold with a wide, beaming grin on her face.
In one hand, she’s got a bottle of Rose, and on the other, a to-go bag that is hopefully filled with a wide selection of sushi.
I open the door for her, and she walks into my apartment, going straight to the living space and setting the wine and the food on my small table. Already, I’ve got Gilmore Girls pulled up on my TV, ready to stream.
This is a fall tradition for us—for as long as we both can remember, this first weekend of fall, we always have a dedicated girls’ night, complete with our annual discussion of Jess v. Logan and copious amounts of wine.
“I’ve been waiting all week for this,” Leila says as she settles on the couch. She rubs her hands together excitedly before digging into the food bag and pulling out different containers of sushi. “I got a little bit of everything since I wasn’t sure what you were feeling this week.”
I grab two long-stemmed wine glasses from my glassware cabinet and take a seat next to her. Leila’s already got the lids off each container and has made sure we each have our own access to Wasabi, ginger, and soy sauce. As soon as I’m seated, Leila hands me a set of Chopsticks, and we dig in.
We make it through one of our favorite episodes in which the Stars Hollow Gang immerses themselves in a twenty-four-hour dance-a-thon. For these girls’ nights, we always run through all of our favorite episodes rather than watch them in order.
We’ve each seen the show all the way through at least five separate times, so we can confidently follow along with the surrounding storyline while still appreciating the shenanigans each favorite episode brings.
When the credits start to roll on the first episode, Leila reaches for the wine bottle to refill. “So—” she says, lingering on the word.
I look over at her questioningly. “What?”
She gives me an expectant shrug. When I don’t respond—still fully unaware of what she’s talking about—she gives an exasperated sigh. “I haven’t seen you in ages. I’m dying to know all the dirty details of you and your guy.”
My mouth goes dry, and I have to set down my glass. “What do you mean?”
Leila rolls her eyes. “Come on, Whitney. I’ve still been hooking up with Chase every other weekend. And he’s not shy about sharing just how infatuated his brother is with you.”
I feel the heat on my cheeks rise, and I know they’re starting to turn pink. “Chase has said that?”
Leila nods, giving me a wicked grin. “Oh, he has. Apparently, you’re all Theo can talk about—Chase says it drives him nuts, but I secretly think he’s glad to see his brother so happy.” I swallow thickly, and Leila tracks the movement. “So don’t be shy, tell me everything!”
“I’m not sure what there is to tell,” I lie.
Leila knows about our weekend getaway for his mother’s gala a few weeks ago, but I didn’t share all the dirty details with her.
As far as she was concerned, it was a trip that was strictly business.
I didn’t tell her that Theo had invited me specifically as his date rather than his assistant.
“Have you slept with him?”
“Leila!” I gasp, looking at her with wide eyes. I feel the telltale heat sliding onto my cheeks, indicating they’ll be flushing a rosy pink here any minute.
She snickers and raises her glass to take a sip. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny these allegations,” I say back, doing my best to keep my tone neutral.
Leila’s lips pull into a smirk. “So then…how many of your things has Theo checked off?”
Again, I’m dumbfounded by my friend’s forwardness. As if she can tell I’m not loving this line of questioning, she pushes even further. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me that all of a sudden, you’ve benched the list. I know you better than that. So, tell me.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You haven’t told Chase anything about that, have you?”
She flips her hair over her shoulder and rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I would never. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been curious.”
I look down at my hands as I knit them together in my lap.
Suddenly, I’m embarrassed about the whole thing, which is ridiculous.
Leila has known me forever, so she’s no stranger to my weird, romantic checklist. And I’ve never been shy about sharing how my dates have stacked up against my high expectations, but for some reason, when it comes to telling her how Theo ranks, I’m feeling protective.
Leila scrutinizes my face for any subtle hints about what I’m feeling on the inside. She can read me like a book, and I see the moment it dawns on her that Theo is possibly the only man who might score a perfect ten.
I haven’t checked lately to get the exact number, but based on the few qualities he has checked off, I know for a fact that if I ever were to find someone who met all of my expectations, Theo would be it.
There’s just something about that man that screams at me that he’s exactly what I’ve been looking for all these years. It’s terrifying and exhilarating. And I’m not entirely sure what to do with these feelings yet.