Page 12 of Back for More
But I can’t think about that.
I take a deep breath—which is a mistake. She smells like a woman now. The fruity, flowery essence of her youth has been replaced by something mysterious and musky and devastating. I step away from her, retreating to the safety of my desk as she slowly takes inventory of my sizable office.
“Nice place you got here.”
“Thanks. Have a seat.” I gesture toward the chairs that face my desk.
“Don’t mind if I do.” She takes her sweet time strolling over. I brace myself as she leans forward a little more than necessary while lowering her ass to the chair and drops her surprisingly plain handbag to the floor. She says nothing more, just looks at me with her sculpted eyebrows raised, waiting for me to speak.
“This is…interesting.”
“Well, it’s not ideal, but I am looking forward to this new chapter of my life, to learning new skills and getting to know more about this industry and my family’s business.” She folds her hands in her lap.
“Sure. That doesn’t sound like bullshit at all.”
She rolls her eyes. “Believe it or not, Wes, I am a professional.”
“Believe it or not, Lily, so am I.”
“You’ve certainly managed to convince my father of that,” she mutters under her breath.
I decide to let it slide. I’m sure this is more difficult for her than it is for me. “So, you’re back.”
“And you’re still a genius.” Her voice is more playful than sarcastic now, and she can’t stop smiling, no matter how hard she tries. We’ll see how long that lasts.
I lean back in my chair and clasp my hands behind my head. “It’s funny… I thought I saw you once, on Main Street, around Christmas last year.”
“Oh yeah? Wasn’t me. This is the first time I’ve been back since I left.”
“Well, I can see now that the woman I saw was…rounder. And angrier.”
She rubs her soft ruby red lips together, re-crossing her legs. “Uh-huh. You saw a round, angry woman and assumed it was me?”
“I mean, she was wearing a heavy coat. And she seemed annoyed that she had to do Christmas shopping. And I hadn’t seen you in years.”
She twists her lips to one side, staring at me, refraining from saying something—who knows what.
I decide to fill the silence with a little white lie. “I didn’t expect you to move back. Ever. Did the acting thing not work out?”
She snaps, as I knew she would. “It worked out just fine. I’m a good actor. I’m just bad at being an actress. There’s a difference.”
“You don’t have to tellmeyou’re a good actor.” After her mother passed, my dad, Vicky the housekeeper, and I used to go see her in her school plays and musicals. Her father never did, and that stung her. But for all the things I’ve never said to her, I would always tell her how good she was on stage. She is talented. She’s infinitely watchable. She was more real when she was acting on stage than she was in her day-to-day life.
She once told me that she loves acting because it’s easier for her to be herself when she’s allowed to be someone else.
“I’ve always told you you’re a genius on stage,” I say.
She nods, acknowledging that small truth.
But I can’t help but smirk and push her on the subject, just a little bit. “You’re not good at taking direction, though, is what you’re saying?”
“I’m great at taking direction,” she says. “I’m just not good at sucking up to assholes simply because they’re in a position to give me a job. I’m not good at schmoozing or keeping in touch with people either, unfortunately.”
“No, you’re not. That is unfortunate,” I say as I stroke my chin. “Sucking up and schmoozing and keeping in touch with people is very necessary in the commercial real estate business. This might not be a good fit for you either.”
“I will make this work.” Her nostrils flare. “If I want this to be a good fit, Mr. Carver, I will stretch my boundaries to accommodate you and do whatever it takes to make it a good fit.” She stares at me hard, her expression and tone caught somewhere betweenfuck youandfuck me, and—fuck this… She is definitely not a kid anymore, and this is not going to work.
She seems to read my mind, looks away, adjusts herself in her seat, and clears her throat. “Congratulations on being a vice president at twenty-five. It’s impressive. I hear there’s one other guy in your department?”
