Chapter 14
Emma
When I show up to work on Monday morning, there’s a twentysomething dark-haired guy sitting in what’s usually my spot at the kitchen table.
“Hi!” he says, all bright-eyed enthusiasm. “You must be Emma. I’m Matt Chen.”
I feel like I’m a thousand years old, especially since I was up late working on Dream Space.
When I look confused, he adds, “I’m Sebastian’s new assistant?”
“Oh.” I keep my expression neutral and try not to betray my dismay. I wanted this. I just didn’t expect Sebastian to find someone to replace me so quickly, especially since he’d been refusing to accept my resignation.
I take a seat opposite Matt, feeling weird watching him in the chair that has been mine for the past seven years.
I turn to Marie. She shrugs and smiles, then hands me my iced Americano a few minutes later. I take a large sip. Just how I like it, with four spoonfuls of sugar. Liquid energy in a mug.
Matt smiles and takes a sip of his own drink, which also looks like an iced Americano. In fact, with his crisp suit, open laptop, neat stack of papers, orderly row of pens and highlighters, he could be the male version of me, only younger.
I stand up in one motion, startling him into spilling his coffee, which he immediately wipes up with the corner of a napkin.
“Right, well, I’ll talk to Sebastian about…” I wave my hand.
“Didn’t he tell you? He had to go to New York to meet with a director.”
A tangle of emotions hits at once.
Disappointment at him being gone again. Because there’s a lot to coordinate. Not because I miss him. Then there’s relief. I’m still embarrassed about puking in his beloved car, him seeing me almost naked. The almost-kiss that perhaps I just made up in my mind.
And then there’s confusion. My eyebrows furrow. “Wait—that wasn’t until next week.”
He straightens the glasses on his nose. “Apparently, they’ve moved the schedule up.”
Why does he know this and not me? “And when were you told he’d be back?”
This feels surreal. I’m asking someone else about my boss’s schedule. I was the one who knew everything—way more than I wanted sometimes. And now someone else, someone barely able to shave, is in my place.
Of course I knew someone would replace me. Sebastian needs an assistant. I just didn’t think it would happen so fast. Or that I wouldn’t be involved in the hiring.
But this is what I wanted, so I need to get used to not being indispensable, I tell myself. To not being needed.
Matt checks his laptop. “He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“And… where did Sebastian… find you?”
“Oh! I was Nathan Porter’s PA for the last five years. But he retired and didn’t need anyone full time anymore, so here I am.”
That will teach me to judge a book by its cover.
I look at the guy opposite me with new respect.
Porter, who is probably pushing seventy now, is a legendary leading man in Hollywood.
He was a friend of the Blake family, and I know Sebastian looks up to him, sees him as a mentor of a sort.
If Nathan recommended Matt, he must be good.
“When did you start? Puberty?” I joke.
“Oh. Ha. Yeah. I get that a lot.” He gestures to himself. “I have a baby face. I took the job straight out of my MBA. I graduated early.”
So he’s bright-eyed and smart. And not as young as I first thought.
This is good. Training someone who’s competent is much easier.
Yet a knot of something dark and twisty takes up residence in my heart. What if this has something to do with the other night? I was drunk and completely out of line. I mean, I’ve seen Sebastian in much worse scenarios over the years, so I didn’t think he’d be judgy. But he’s my boss and…
This is good. Matt’s being here is proof that Sebastian has accepted that I’m leaving.
It’s proof he’s moved on, with dizzying speed.
The dark knot tangles tighter.
I take a deep breath. I’m the one who took this path. So I need to keep walking it.
If I’m off-balance, it’s because I haven’t taken charge of the situation. I’ll feel better once I take control.
Begin as you mean to go on.
I clear my throat. “Well, I guess we’d better get started. We only have a short time to make you the perfect assistant for Sebastian.” I sit back down and shoot him an appraising look. “Let me show you how his calendar works. And I have to warn you, there are a lot of spreadsheets.”
He smiles widely. “Now you’re speaking my language.” His unabashed happiness at the idea of spreadsheets affirms that he’s one of my people.
We grin at each other. And he moves over to the seat next to mine as together we look at my laptop, making our way through spreadsheet after spreadsheet. I explain each one, and he gasps in appreciation at them.
They really are a thing of beauty.
As Matt oohs and aahs over the master calendar that I coded myself, I drain the last of my coffee. And look over at Marie. Damn, I’ll miss her. And her incredible Americanos. And this table. And this house. And…
I shut down that final thought before I can give voice to it.