Page 27 of Forbidden Desires

“Maybe later, I have work to do.” I hold up the file, forcing a smile, not wanting to sound ungrateful. I know I need to conceal how much her brother’s actions annoy me.

She looks me over, a twinkle in her eyes, and I know for sure she’s heard the rumor now spreading through this group. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

She walks away, leaving me with a racing heart and frustration coursing through me. Doesn’t he get that his protective antics will carelessly turn me into a topic of gossip among the staff? This is what I wanted to escape. I don’t want special treatment. If that means walking to work or catching the bus, I’m fine with that. I try to calm my breathing, glancing over at his office window, wondering if he’s inside watching me right now. Well, ifhe is, I’m going to tell him exactly what I think of this little stunt. I take a quick photo of the car and type out a text to him.

GISELE: You’re taking the protective hero thing a little far now. I don’t need this.

I wait for a reply, but nothing comes. I growl in frustration and stomp my foot. Turning on my heel, I go in search of Paisley, needing to pour myself into my work to stop from overreacting and marching into his office like I want to. Not concentrating on what I’m doing, I bump into a brick wall of a man. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I mutter.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I wasn’t looking where I was going either.” He smiles at me warmly, the rest of his face shadowed by the baseball cap he has on. He’s in construction boots and has a tool belt on. He must be part of Parker’s building crew.

“No harm done.” I smile back, continuing through the garden in search of Paisley.

I find her in a room off to the side of the conference center. Last night she told me that along with working for Wild Magnolia, the flower shop on the main street in town, she is also the in-house florist here. She works varied hours depending on when she’s needed, but she is always here on a Tuesday to freshen the foyer arrangements and prepare for the weekend’s weddings. I knock at her open door so I don’t surprise her while she’s arranging.

“Gisele.” She beams back at me, her curls bouncing as she transports a large vase arrangement over to the sink.

“Sorry to bother you, but I just talked to Eva Sierra about her wedding, and I wanted to run a few things past you.”

“Lucky you, you had the pleasure of talking to my favorite bride,” she says sarcastically. “What extravagance does she want now?”

I hold up one of the images of the ceremony flowers she has requested. “This looks like a lot to me, and I wanted to check with you, because the floral package they selected doesn’t say it includes whatever this is.”

“It’s called a half-moon floor ceremony cloud. And there is no way in hell they’re getting that for the amount they’re paying.”

I look at her, worried. I don’t want to screw this all up. The bride was full-on in the call I had with her. “What do I do then? She was pretty adamant.”

“Of course she was, she’s deluded. Don’t get yourself in a tizzy over it. I will call her this afternoon and explain, again, what is possible for her budget. If she wants to spend more, I can give her whatever she wants, but I doubt she’ll part with any more cash.”

“Thank you.” I smile, relieved she can help.

“Gotta look after you, I want you to stick around.” She smiles warmly, and I feel a surge of gratitude. “I’ve got a feeling you’re going to be good for this town,” she adds, and I wonder what on earth she means.

“I think this town is going to be good for me too. At least I hope so.” If Brody stops with all the controlling bullshit and I actually get to have some fun. I watch her as she goes about filling the massive ceramic vase with foliage. “Paisley, can I ask you something?”

“You bet,” she mumbles around the stem of a rather large peachy-colored rose.

“Do the other events coordinators normally get a corporate car in their contract?”

Her eyes go wide, and I already anticipate her answer. She removes the rose from her mouth dramatically. “He got you afucking car? Seriously, girl, what the hell happened between the two of you when you met in New York?”

“Shhh. Nothing,” I mutter, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one else is around. Her voice is like a foghorn.

She comes closer to me. “Do I look like I was born yesterday? No other coordinator has ever been given a car. The only ones with company cars are Emerson and Victor, but that’s because they’re management,” she says more quietly this time, her disbelief making me feel even more uneasy about the car. Part of me had hoped she would tell me it’s totally normal.

She checks her watch. “I just have to finish this up, then I’m meeting Mae for lunch behind the kitchen. You’re joining us,” she tells me like I have no choice in the matter.

“Umm, alright, I’ll meet you there,” I agree, already knowing better than to argue with Paisley when she makes up her mind. I’m actually grateful that I don’t have to sit in my office and eat alone with my thoughts. Because the way I’m feeling today, they might just drive me crazy.

Twenty minutes later, we’re all sitting out the back of the hotel in the allotted staff area, basking in the sun while we eat our lunches. Mae brought some of Elliot’s new creations for us to sample, and they look a whole lot more appetizing than the sandwich I packed.

“We got a fried chicken salad, with crispy fried chicken strips on a bed of mixed greens with pecans, goat cheese, and a honey-mustard vinaigrette, and shrimp-and-grits croquettes. Dig in, girls.” Mae describes the dishes she has just placed in front of us, making my mouth water.

We each take a plate and fill it with the tasty-looking food. I moan around my fork at the first bite. “This is so to die for.”

Mae nods around her mouthful. “Only catch is you have to give Elliot your opinion. I can’t eat any more of his samples alone, he’s going bonkers trying to get ‘em all perfect.”

“I’ll sample his food any day! The guy can cook,” Paisley says, shoving another croquette in her mouth.

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