Page 56 of Wild Love
But I’m not renaming my company.
Have a happy day!
Ford Grant CEO and Producer at Rose Hill Records (and that’s final.)
“I’m here! And I brought Sebastian!” Rosie announces as she waltzes through the door to the old barn, with my bowling teammate following behind.
Where she’s all smiles, he’s all frowns. But his frown isn’t nearly as deep as when he scowled at Stretch last night.
Bash tips his chin at me and says, “Gonna take a look around,” rolls up the sleeves of his thick plaid shirt and storms off like he’s on a hunt for someone to fight with.
“He’s charming, right?” Rosie whispers conspiratorially as she approaches my desk.
I lean back in my chair, like the extra distance between us will help me want her less.
Spoiler alert, it doesn’t.
I steeple my hands beneath my chin and regard her. She’sdoing that thing she always done where she acts extra chipper to smooth out any ripples. I’ve watched her do it with West as a teenager and now she does it so naturally I wonder if she even notices. It’s like she thinks her problems aren’t worthy of attention and solving because they might be inconvenient to other people.
And in that she’d be wrong.
Her glossy smile doesn’t hide the skin around her eyes that’s still puffy from her tears. My chest aches at the thought of her crying alone in that old dingy bunkhouse. And I can’t even bring myself to scowl at her over the suggestion that I rename the company.
Aside from that, she’s polished from head to toe. Hair ironed straight. Wide-leg dress pants in a camel color, topped with a soft, creamy sweater. A gold necklace dangles around her neck, and I remember the way her fingers felt gripping my chain last night on the dock.
My hand absently moves up to it, and I mimic the motion, realizing how close she came to the pendant. When her eyes pop down to my hand, I stop.
I clear my throat. “Sebastian? Oh yeah. All charm.”
“If he’s mean to you, let me know. I’ll punch him. Thumb on the outside.” She winks and holds up a fist before shifting on her feet. It seems we’re both uncomfortable after last night but won’t give voice to it. Wecan’ttalk about it.
Ican’t, at least. Or I’ll say something I shouldn’t. I’ll have to stick to action.
She doesn’t need another boss perving on her. And I don’t want to be perv-dad-boss.
So, I fall back on an old faithful—teasing her.
“You sure? Looks like you still don’t know how to make a proper fist. And you’re no good to me with a broken hand.”
She rolls her eyes. “There he is. Ford the dick is back.”
I hate being a dick to her, but I just don’t know how else to act. So, I grab the envelope in front of me and hold it out.
“What’s this?” The tips of her fingers brush against mine when she takes it, and I cover the shiver that races down my spine by shifting in my seat.
“A signing bonus. Employment contract is in your email. I’ll need your direct deposit information for future payments.”
When she opens the envelope, her lips pop open, and her eyes go wide.
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking your permission, Rosie.”
With a quick peek up she says, “Let me clarify: hell no.”
“Hell yes,” I reply impassively.
Her head shakes, but her eyes stay latched on the check, pinched tight between her fingers.
