Page 64 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
I fought back a smile, nodding once in answer. “Thanks for the tour, Mona.”
She waved me off, clicking away with a slight sway in her pencil skirt. She was beautiful, exotic, and I suddenly felt a little under dressed in my dress slacks and flowy top.
I dropped my purse onto the desk and looked around. It was early, I was one of the few people in the office, and those who were there weren’t paying attention to me — not yet, at least. I made a promise to myself then that by the time my internship ended in August, they’d know my name. They’d know exactly who I was.
My phone pinged and Jamie’s name lit up the screen, making me smile. I slid the bar on the screen and his message filled it.
— Sign any NYT bestsellers yet? —
No matter how often or little he texted me since our night together back home last weekend, it always warmed the skin of my cheeks to see words from his fingers. It was even better when he called me, which had been nearly every night since I’d flown out to Pittsburgh.
— Working on it. Pondering if I should aim for top agent or CEO. Have to align the strategy accordingly, you know? —
— Go get ‘em, tiger. Call me tonight. —
My heart flipped at his request and I bit my lip, staring at the message. I loved our late night phone calls. I was learning more and more about him, just when I thought I knew all I needed to. It wasn’t that I changed my mind about the long distance thing, but where was the harm in talking and texting? In seeing each other when it made sense? I wasn’t expecting any more of Jamie and he wasn’t asking any more of me, which was exactly what I needed at that point in my life.
“I see you’ve just been blown away by the welcome committee,” someone said behind me. I jumped, tucking my phone back in my purse and whipping around. It was a boy, or should I say a man — he couldn’t have been much more than two or three years older than me. His dark blonde hair was parted at the side and flowing in a swoop like he worked all morning to get it that way. His eyes were bright blue, kind and inviting, and he had a wide grin that reminded me a little of Ethan’s. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said, reaching out my hand and returning his smile.
He took it, giving it a light but firm shake before eying the few people at their cubes over my shoulder. “Sorry about them. It’s busy for us lately, and I guess that gives them all an excuse to forget their manners.” His eyes found mine again and he dropped my hand, resting his elbow on the wall of my cube. “I’m sure after a riveting tour with Mona, they feel like a field of puppies.”
I laughed at that, but I was nervous. “Oh no, she was great. I really love the hammock room.” I cringed. I really love the hammock room? Cool, B.
He cocked a brow. “She was great?” He shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you it’s terrible to lie to your boss on the first day?”
My stomach rolled and I blanched, stammering. “Oh, I mean, it really wasn’t that bad. I think she’s just busy. It’s actually—”
“Relax,” he said with a chuckle, pushing off his casual stance on the wall of my cube. “Coffee?”
“Please,” I breathed.
He led the way, introducing me to a few of the associates he’d been referring to as we passed them. When we made it back to the chic break room, he popped a new cup into the Keurig and leaned against the counter to face me, folding his arms. “So, Brecks Kennedy, you ready for your first day?”
My name didn’t sting as much as it had when I was younger, but it still unnerved me, and I brushed a long chunk of hair over my shoulder before correcting him. “It’s just B, actually. I don’t really go by my full name. But yes, very honored to be here…” My voice faded when I realized I didn’t know his name. Mona had been the one to handle my hiring paperwork over email, and I had no idea who I was reporting to.
“River,” he said, pulling the fresh cup of coffee from the coffee machine and handing it to me before starting another for himself. “River Godsby.”
“Godsby?” The Chairman and CEO of Rye Publishing was Randall Godsby, and my wheels started turning before River could even respond. Not just about the fact that they were surely related, but the fact that his parents had named him River. His name sounded as expensive as the Zegna suit he was wearing.
