12. Trey
Beingin my new office for the first time feels strange. It feels like I’ve been dropped off in a foreign country where I don’t know anyone. I’ve officially found myself in the proverbial bigger pond. Unfortunately, I’m also expected to be the biggest fish in these waters.
You’d think it would get easier by my age, but it’s still uncomfortable. I’m already missing my usual routine and my familiar employees, but life is about taking risks.
Not that being handed a professional hockey team from my dad qualifies as a risk. I didn’t buy the team; he did. But there is an enormous amount of pressure on me to keep the team thriving like it has been.
Over the years, my father has built a first-class operation and solidified himself as a legend among team owners. And I can’t be the owner’s son who inherits the team and then ruins the success of the Coyotes.
Not gonna happen.
I take a deep breath and look around the large space, checking everything out from my new perspective behind the desk. I’ve been here so many times over the years, but not for the last six months or so.
My mom redecorated this office for my dad since my last visit, so it’s all new to me. I see her touches in the perfectly trimmed moulding panels equally spaced on the lower walls around the room, and the colorful assortment of throw pillows spread out on the couch. Everything looks elegant yet comfortable, which I’d also say is an accurate description of my mother herself.
I tilt my head back and sink into my chair. It’s made of soft, supple leather that feels as if it conforms to my body; it’ll make all the long hours I’ll have to spend here easier.
I guess it’s time to meet my assistant, Maeve.
My dad never told me anything personal about her. Just that she’s been efficient and I should keep her on. I press the speakerphone button and dial her extension.
“This is Maeve.”
“This is Trey. Can you come to see me, please?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Sliding my chair back, I stand and move toward the wall of wooden cabinets lining the back of the room. Behind one of them, there’s a small refrigerator I know my dad keeps stocked with bottles of water.
Knuckles rap on the open door as I’m reaching inside the fridge. “Come in,” I say, grabbing a bottle before turning around to see my new assistant for the first time. My eyes bulge. “Mae.”
Her expression mirrors mine. “James.”
“What are you doing here?” we ask simultaneously.
“It’s my first day,” I say.
Her brow furrows. “Are you the new owner?”
I nod. “Yes. Why are you here?”
Her eyes briefly close, and she presses her lips together. “I’m your assistant.”
“Your name’s Maeve?”
She nods.
“You lied about your name?” I ask, sounding judgmental.
“So did you, Trey.” She’s clearly annoyed.
I realize it’s the first time I’ve heard her call me by my name, and I like it. I walk past her to close the door and then stop in front of her. With only inches separating us, all I want to do is touch her. Hold her. Kiss her. But I force myself to ignore my urges and clear up any misgivings.
“James is my middle name.”
“My friend set up my Finder account. I didn’t realize she hadn’t put Maeve until we’d already matched.”
I take my time looking her over. She’s the picture of professionalism in her short-sleeved blouse, skirt, and high heels. Somehow she makes it look unbelievably sexy. “So, you’re the infamous Maeve.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My dad raved about his assistant and told me how much I was going to love having you work under me.” I laugh. “Ironic, huh?”
She takes a few steps away from me, drops into one of the chairs in front of my desk, and rubs her hand over her forehead. “This is a mess. What are we going to do?” She looks and sounds devastated.
I return to my seat, thankful for the space between us. Leaning forward on the wooden desktop, I ask, “Do you like working here?”
“I love it,” she answers without hesitation.
Fuck me.
I’m glad she likes her job, but I don’t like what that means for us.
Goddammit.
It figures when I finally find a woman I’d actually like to continue seeing, a monkey wrench gets thrown into the mix, completely fucking it up.
“Then you’ll keep your position, and I’ll be your new boss.”
Her eyebrows pinch together. “What about…?” She doesn’t voice the rest.
“That happened before you were working for me. Technically, we’ve done nothing wrong.” She remains silent as we unblinkingly stare at each other. “Do you have anything you want to say?” I finally ask.
“Pizza,” she mumbles, staring straight ahead.
“Pizza?” I repeat after her.
“Pizza.” Maeve gets up and walks back out of my office, shaking her head in disbelief.
Pizza? What the…
And then I remember our first night together and her safe word.
* * *
I’ve got my head leaning back, after what might be the craziest first day of work anyone has ever experienced, and I’m about to close my eyes when there’s a knock on my office door.
“Come in,” I call out.
Isaac struts in with a bunch of balloons in his hand, kicking the door closed behind him. “Happy first day at your new job,” he shouts, walking toward me.
He sets a bottle of bourbon down on the desk and releases his hold on the balloons. They immediately drift up to the high ceiling, but the long ribbons attached to them hang low enough to reach. I read the messages printed on the shiny, large round ones. Congratulations. Good Job. Keep it Up. The rest are made up of a rainbow of bright colors.
“Thanks, man. This is really nice of you. I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten me balloons before.”
“I figured they were better than flowers.”
“Definitely. And the bourbon is needed. I could really use a drink right now.”
“Uh-oh, sounds like your first day didn’t go as well as you’d hoped.”
I nod. “You could say that.”
He opens the bourbon while I dig through the cabinets until I find a couple of glasses. I set them on my desk and he pours a generous amount into each.
“Tell me about your day,” he says, settling into the same chair Maeve sat in earlier.
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You’re not gonna believe this.”
“Try me.”
“My new assistant is none other than my Finder hookup.”
His brown eyes flash with surprise. “The one you were thinking of seeing more of?”
“Yep. That one.” Raising the glass to my lips, I take a long pull and then another. I hope the liquor helps numb the pain of losing Mae, I mean Maeve, as a lover.
“How the fuck did that happen?” Isaac laughs.
“The universe is shitting on my love life like always.”
“Stop your pity-party bullshit and give me the details.” Isaac is always more than happy to call me out on my shit.
“She was my dad’s assistant and I inherited her. She didn’t know I’m his son.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah, she was too stunned when she saw me for it to be an act. Plus, my Finder account is under James, my middle name.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Any involvement we had before she was my assistant doesn’t matter. We’re going to keep things professional moving forward.”
“That’s gonna be tough to do if she’s as sexy as you said she is.”
“Tell me about it. I’m fucked without actually getting fucked.”
He snickers. “You could fire her, and then you could still be involved with her.”
“That wouldn’t be fair. She loves her job, and she’s good at it.”
“You’ve always been so careful not to cross any lines with employees, and now the one woman I’ve heard you express interest in beyond a quick screw, turns out to be working for you. If you have any luck with love, it’s bad luck.”
I chug down more of the bourbon and lick my lips. “Thanks for your inspirational words.”
He shrugs. “What? It’s true. I’m merely stating facts.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t need the reminder at the moment.”
“This is some bad romance movie shit; that’s what’s happening here,” Isaac says.
“You’ve lost me.”
“I feel like Hallmark would make a movie like your story. The heroine starts a new job and finds out her new boss is the one-night stand she recently had.”
I’ll bite at his theory. “So how does it end?”
“If you were a character in the movie, you would try to keep your distance, but the pull between you would be too much to resist, and you would inevitably succumb to your desires.”
“Sounds about right. I’m fucked no matter what I do,” I say, gulping down the remaining bourbon in my glass.
“Yeah, but one of those fuckings is better than the other.”
“For sure. But I need to think about what’s best for Maeve too. I can’t be a selfish asshole and ignore what she wants.”
“Yeah, you’re fucked,” Isaac says.
“Why are you saying that?” I add a shot’s worth of bourbon to my glass and knock it back.
“Because you like this woman. You really like her, and no matter how you look at it, the situation you’re in sucks. There’s no way around it.”
“Yep.”
“I have a great idea. You could send her over to be my assistant, and then she wouldn’t work for you anymore,” he suggests, smiling.
Narrowing my eyes, I shake my head. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t think so, but you can’t blame me for trying.” Sitting forward, he raises the bottle to add more to my glass, and I raise my hand stopping him.
“I have to go soon. Gwen’s at my house tonight.”
Isaac twists the cap back on and slides the bottle across the desk to me. “Take it with you. You might need it later.”
* * *
“Is everything okay, Dad?” Gwen asks. “You seem out of sorts.”
I smile at her. “I’m fine, sweetie. It was a busy day at the new job and I’ve got a lot to deal with. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Did you meet a lot of your staff?” she asks.
“I had meetings all throughout the day to get to know some of them.”
The first one was disastrous.
“How’s your new assistant? The one Gramps liked so much.”
Talk about rubbing salt in my wound.
“That’s Maeve. She seems great.”
“How old is she?”
“Twenty-five.”
Too young for me anyway.
“What does she look like?”
“Why does that matter?” I ask.
“I’m curious.”
“She’s got long blond hair.” It’s the shiniest, softest hair in the world. “And blue eyes.” A vibrant blue that grabs hold of your attention and never relinquishes its hold.
“Hmm. I pictured her being a brunette when Gramps talked about her.”
“That’s funny. I did too.”
“Now that you own the team, does that mean I get to go to the home games?” she asks with a hopeful expression on her face.
“I suppose you can go to some of them. It depends on when they fall. You can’t attend any game that’s on a school night.”
“That’s okay. When is the first game?”
“Preseason games run the last two weeks of September and the regular season starts the second week of October.”
She wrinkles her little nose. “But that’s so far away.”
“It’s less than three months until the season opener.”
“Awesome.”
“And between now and then, you have your summer break from school to enjoy.”
“Good point.” She shoots to her feet. “I’m going to tell my friends.” She leans in for a hug. “Night, Dad.”
“Night, Gwennie.”
She bounds out of the room like an excited puppy, leaving me alone with my thoughts of Maeve. I want to call her more than anything, but I know I shouldn’t. I could send her a text. What harm would that do?
I’m sorry about what happened this morning.
I send the message before I can stop myself or delete it.
Thankfully, she doesn’t make me wait for a reply.
You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault the circumstances are shitty.
You’re right, they are shitty. I wish I were with you right now.
You can’t say things like that to me anymore.
I know, but I mean it. I wish I could hold you in my arms right now and tell you everything will be all right.
You want to lie to me?
No. But I’d want to take away your pain.
It is what it is. We need to deal with our new roles. I’m your employee now. You’re my boss. And you need to stop texting me because it’s only going to make this fucked-up situation harder. Goodnight.
She’s right. I’m in the wrong here. I shouldn’t have contacted her. But goddamn, if this isn’t hard.
You’re right. This isn’t making it any easier. Goodnight.
I pitch my phone across the couch and it bounces to the floor. With any luck, it broke. Dropping my head to the back of the couch, I stare up at the ceiling. I’ve known Maeve for just under two weeks and we’ve gotten together a total of three times.
So why is the idea of never holding her in my arms again so fucking devastating?