Page 10 of My Dearest Mackenzie

To this, Corey laughed.

We slid into the SUV Alex kept idling for us and headed to Midtown.

“I am heading to the Athletic Club after, and then you can drop Corey wherever he is going,” I told Alex before opening my phone and checking a few stocks.

“The bergamot is expected to ship tomorrow, so the factory will have it in two days,” Corey told me, and I looked up.

“Good. From what I understand, Milly’s signature scent is almost sold out in most stores.”

“Yeah. Apparently, it’s an expected add-on when making a purchase.”

“That’s what I like to hear, Corey. I need to promote you, but then who will put up with my shit?”

Corey wasn’t just any assistant. He spoke with everyone from store managers to vendors; he knew the pulse on the overall market and our business’s performance.

“I like where I am, but I wouldn’t say no to a raise…”

I howled. “You know all you have to do is ask. But you shouldn’t be so comfortable in your place. You’re smart. You could get an MBA and move up in the company.”

Corey suffered from small-town phobia. He grew up on a farm in central Pennsylvania. He was the only gay guy he knew until his sophomore year of college. He’d told me all this over a scotch one evening. He’d only dated a little at a small business college outside Erie, Pennsylvania. I joked with him that the idea of it made me sick. Not only dating a little, but rural USA wasn’t my scene.

“Who would manage you and run interference with your recent stalker, then?” He smiled at me, waiting for me to deny I had a situation with Frances Burns.

“I’m sure anyone could handle me. The feisty blond bombshell, I’m not so certain. She does a damn good job of working her way around you.”

“You like her.” His mouth twisted upward in a smirk.

“I found her amusing,” was all I admitted. “Back to you and the MBA. What do you say? Maybe some night classes at CUNY? Or I could call in a favor at Fordham?”

He turned his gaze away from mine. “I don’t know. I went to Podunk College and got a degree in business administration. I hardly think I’m CEO material.”

“Who said anything about CEO? Are you taking my job already?” This had us both laughing again, and I made a mental note to call around on Corey getting an MBA as we slid up in front of one of New York’s most famous landmark department stores.

Inhaling and exhaling, I got out of the car before Alex could open the door. The sooner I showed my face at the event, the faster I could get to my non-date and then home. For a flash, I thought about starting to drive myself again, and then let the idea go. It had been a long time since I’d sold the Porsche my dad had given me in college for a down payment on a condo. My dad made up for his emotional absence with being financially generous. I would have preferred him to work on improving the former, but he had been gone for a while, and I’d learned there was no correcting the past.

Lost in my sappy thoughts, I was walking around, showing my face and shaking hands with a few society women, when I spotted her. She was standing by the last station where women were taking pictures in front of a big green screen. It was a headshot booth where they snapped interview-ready photos. I’d loved the idea when I read about it. But seeing Frances Burns cheering these ladies on made me feel other sorts of ways. Unsure, mostly.

Did she genuinely think this was a good idea? Why was she here, when she worked at a different department store? My brain went into overdrive the way it always did around the woman. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds, yet her presence was like a giant elephant walking the streets of New York.

Not that I would ever say that to her. One, you never spoke about a woman’s weight. Milly taught me that. And two, I wasn’t sure an elephant was the type of comparison any person wanted to hear about themselves.

I took her in—Frances smiled like a goofball at every one—and I wasn’t a lip-reader, but it seemed like she complimented each woman.

Unable to resist, I sidled up next to her, whispering for her ears only. “If I didn’t know better, I might suggest you found me here on purpose, Ms. Burns. But that’s not the type of woman you are, is it? Let’s see, persistent, dogged, and more determined than anyone I know? That’s not you. You must believe in serendipity. Or are you someone who must get their way, no matter what?”

Thinking back to my grandmother, Frankie had better be in the latter group and not one into gratuitous meetings… I’d prefer a stalker.

“Why hello, Mr. Miller. Fancy seeing you here.” She made an O with her mouth, feigning shock.

“Oh, you mean you didn’t notice my company’s name on every sign for the event? You may need glasses, Frances.”

This earned me a chuckle, and if I was interested in honesty, I’d say how much I loved hearing the sound. But when it came to Frances Burns, honesty wasn’t going to serve me well.

Turning to face me, she spoke. “You got me. I was looking for you, and then poof, there you were—at an event near and dear to my heart.”

Running a hand through my hair, I wished my fingers were tangled in her long waves instead. “I thought you sold men’s clothes?”

Moving a finger back and forth in front of me she tsked. “Checking on me?”

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