Page 15 of In Good Company

I laugh. “I’m saying yes to a job, not asking him on a date. Is lip gloss necessary?”

She scoffs. “It’s always necessary. Now, listen to me so you can get on with taking your dream position this summer.”

I do as I’m told, allowing Charlotte to fuss over me as I muster up the courage to find Cal and tell him I accept.

EIGHT

CAL

I take one final drink of my bourbon before setting it on the table. “I should probably get going,” I tell the men gathered around the table.

“Stay a little longer,” Jude counters, taking a puff of his cigar.

I shake my head before standing up. “Can’t tonight. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.”

Jude laughs. “Can’t make any promises.”

Beckham Sinclair, someone I’ve gotten closer to in the last year, leans forward and places his hand on Jude’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Cal, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“He needs it.” I love Jude. I’m closer to him than I am my own brother. He works hard and is damn good at what he does, but he enjoys having fun—sometimes a little too much. Unless he’s sitting in a board meeting, he isn’t taking life too seriously.

Jude smiles as he shakes his head. He pretends to be offended by my words, but the forced frown doesn’t linger on his lips for very long. “I’m not stupid. I don’t need anyone babysitting me. Not like hotshot Ryker over here.” Jude lifts an eyebrow, staring right at our friend Ryker, daring him to respond.

“Oh, fuck you,” Ryker responds, glaring across the room where his so-called “babysitter” is watching him from the bar. “My dad will stop being an asshole any day now, and I’ll ditch her.”

Ryker is known to be more reckless than Jude. He’s made one too many bad decisions recently, which has reflected poorly on the Davenport empire. His dad hired Camille’s father’s PR firm to help clean up after the mess Ryker’s made. As his publicist, Camille has been assigned to spend the summer with Ryker to ensure he doesn’t make any more of a mess. Ryker is less than thrilled with the setup.

I turn from the table and walk away while they continue their conversation, otherwise I’d be here all night. Jude and Ryker are very similar. They would argue for hours about which one of them needs to be babysat.

I keep my head down as I walk the halls of Pembroke to the front entrance. Leaving the club can take an hour sometimes because of the number of people you run into. Everyone wants to stop and talk business, disguising it as shooting the shit. Typically, I tolerate it, but right now, all I want to do is get home.

The fact that Lucy still hasn’t accepted my offer is bothering me. It’s eating away at me more than it should. I offered her double what Thomas did. I gave her an unlimited budget for kitchen supplies and ingredients. I tracked her down at her job to try and convince her again that the best choice for her is to work for me. Nothing has worked, and I can’t move past it. I’m stewing over her refusal to just accept my offer and coming up with another plan to make her say yes when I hear my name being called.

The front entryway to Pembroke is bustling with members. I look up and follow the sound of the voice, meeting the eyes of the woman who’s been on my mind for the last week. Lucygives me a timid smile. She anxiously twists her hands in front of her. “Can I talk to you?”

I cock my head to the side, wondering why she looks so nervous. “Sure.”

“Okay.” She looks down at her feet for a moment. “Do you have time? We could go for a quick walk?”

I nod, too interested in why she sought me out to refuse her. “You have my attention.” My hand hovers over the small of her back as I guide her toward the door. “After you.”

Lucy doesn’t hesitate. She turns and walks out the front entrance. It’s a lot busier now than it was when Jude and I first showed up earlier this afternoon. I ignore the curious gazes from familiar faces as I fall into step next to Lucy.

“Have you filled the private chef position yet?” she asks, her eyes trained ahead.

“You mean, have I filled it in the few hours since I last saw you?”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a moment as we walk along the wide sidewalk of the country club grounds. To our right is the golf pro shop and the start of the course, where golf carts are neatly lined up. We head in that direction, following the path that’ll eventually take us to the back of the club and the private beach.

“No, I haven’t filled the position yet,” I tell her, trying to keep my eyes pinned ahead instead of staring at her.

“You haven’t?”

My heart picks up speed by the smallest amount at the excitement in her voice. Maybe she’s rethinking her decision.

“Playing this cat-and-mouse game has been far too entertaining for me to give up that easily.”

---