Page 65 of Owen North

I’ve never found myself in a bigger potential-wreck of a situation.

Three weeks.

We only have to make it throughthree weeks,and yet with each passing minute, I’m becoming more convinced we’re not going to.

I know nothing of the agreement he has with his ex on this, but I shudder to think what she’ll do if she finds out about us while I’m working for her. Poppy has mentioned Jill’s jealous tendencies more than once, and my cousin never exaggerates when it comes to this kind of thing. If she’s told me to be careful, I need to be careful. The last thing I need is for my boss to unleash her jealousy on me at work.

Owen moves back to the piano, leaving me to deal with Adeline and her husband on my own. I concur with this decision. The less he and I are together, the better.

I smile at Adeline, thinking again how beautiful she is with her flawless skin, long dark hair, and perfectly put together features. How God decides who gets this level of perfection and who doesn’t is a question I’ve often pondered. She and I will be having a little conference on this when I get to heaven, because I’d like to point out that she could make it all a little more equal.

“I’m Charlize. Owen and I met at my cousin’s wedding on Saturday.”

Adeline seems surprised by that but doesn’t show it for long. Her surprise soon eases into excitement. “You’ve only known each other for five days?”

“Yes.”

Another dark-haired man joins us, sitting next to me. He’s movie-star handsome with his chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, and striking brown eyes. Taking a sip of his drink, he says, “No wonder you’re looking at Owen like he’s a god. It’s still early days.”

Adeline laughs. “You’re just jealous, Bradford.”

“Well, when the only woman who gets close to me is Cecelia, can you blame me?” he says.

“Have you two announced a date for the wedding yet?” Adeline asks.

“Fuck, no. Although, she’d have announced it three months ago if I’d given her the go-ahead.” He throws more whiskey down his throat before glancing at me. “We’ve met before. I’m sure of it.”

I reach back into my memory trying to figure out when, but nothing comes to mind. “I don’t think so.”

He clicks his fingers. “I’ve got it. You’re friends with Dylan Hale. I met you at a party the Hales held a few years ago.”

It comes back to me now and it’s not surprising that I’ve blocked that night from my mind. I was at a party at Dylan’s uncle’s home with Benjamin that night. We had the kind of fight just before I met Bradford that ensures anything and everything before or after the fight is forgotten.

“I remember now,” I say, “and you’ll have to forgive me for anything I might have said or done that night. I’d just had a god-awful fight with my ex-fiancé before we met.”

“It didn’t show. In fact, I wondered how you even had the time of day for Ben. I can’t stand the asshole.” He nods at Owen who’s deep in conversation with the man at the piano. “You’ve found a much better guy in Owen.”

“Oh, I work for Owen.” I’ve no idea what his friends know about us, but I don’t want to say anything I shouldn’t. “Well, I work for Jill. I’m filling in for her assistant while she’s sick. Just for three weeks. It started as two days only, but it’s changed into three weeks now. I’ve no idea what’s wrong with her assistant, but I hope to God she doesn’t have the kind of ailment that’ll mean she needs months off.” I snap my mouth shut and stare at Bradford, smoothing my dress while willing my mouth to never open again.

I should have never agreed to deliver that bottle of whiskey to Owen.

Bradford smiles at me and leans in close. “Your secret is safe with me. And I hope for your sake that Jill’s assistant is back in three weeks. There’s no fucking way I could work for that woman. I’ve no idea how you’re managing it.”

This is why I never allow people to tell me their secrets.

I am bad at keeping them.

I abruptly stand and throw out, “I need the powder room.” My eyes latch onto Adeline. “Any idea where it is?”

“I’ve got you,” she says, giving me directions to a room that’s near a library not far from the sofa.

I don’t really need the bathroom. I just need a moment. Or a thousand.

I lock myself away in the room that may just be the most elegant powder room I’ve ever been in with its glossy black marble tiles, gold accents, black and gray damask wallpaper, and muted lighting. Resting my hands on the vanity, I draw a long breath and exhale it. While I do this, I look in the mirror and am instantly horrified at the mess my hair is in.

I chose a simple chic black dress for work today. One that reaches my knees, has cap sleeves, and a high neckline. I wore my hair up in a bun and applied minimal make-up while matching the dress with flat black shoes. Buns usually ensure my hair doesn’t get in the way and that it stays where it should all day. This bun has let me down.

I’ve got flyaway strands of hair everywhere and the back is a loose mess of hair that’s making it look more like a messy bun than the perfect art I created this morning. I like a good messy bun, but not for work.

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