Page 57 of Love on the Byline

“Maybe, maybe not. Back then, people didn’t pay much attentionto anything I said.” He laughed under his breath. “Not much has changed, nowthat I think of it.”

“I think you’re severely underestimating yourself,” shecountered. “My experience with French begins and ends with Ratatouille,but I understood enough to know you got what you wanted from that call.”

“That has nothing to do with me, and everything to do withBran. He’s at that point in his career that he only needs to ask, and lots ofpeople will bend over backward to give him what he wants.”

“Sheesh. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

Thankfully, he laughed. A rich, hearty sound, unguarded andfree, that made her insides hum.

“He’s not so bad. Believe me, I’ve heard horror stories fromother assistants. At least he’s not a diva.”

The jury was still out on that. “How did you and he becomefriends?” It was a curiosity how these two men could have formed such anobviously strong bond. On paper, at least, they were different in almost everypossible way. She’d heard of opposites attracting, but still.

“Hey, Ols. Blake.” Bran’s deep baritone filled the room, andOllie’s entire demeanor changed right before her eyes.

He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured Bran somejuice.

Bran eyed it suspiciously. “When was this squeezed?”

“Last night. Hans left two pitchers,” Ollie replied, openingthe fridge.

Bran frowned at the liquid as if it were mud. “Dude, that’snot fresh. The vitamin C begins to lose potency as soon as you cut into theorange.”

“I’m not sure there’s any truth to that. Besides, you preferit ice cold in the mornings, right? Makes more sense to do it at night.”

“Hans makes it in the morning.” Bran was sulking, and shewanted to tell him to shut the hell up or squeeze his own damn juice.

But this wasn’t a friend doing a friend a favor situation.Ollie worked for Bran, and their working relationship fascinated her. Shewondered where the lines were drawn, if any.

“You didn’t invite Hans to stay with us on thislittle…getaway,” Ollie said, and, for the first time, she thought she heardirritation creep into his words. “So, I’ll be squeezing your orange juice whenhe’s not here, and blending your smoothies, and baking your egg white frittataswith goat cheese and tomatoes. You’ll consume them without complaint,or you can eat takeout. I really don’t care.”

“Arugula,” Bran said.

“What?”

“Goat cheese, tomatoes, and arugula.”

“Fuck.” Ollie closed his eyes.

“You forgot the arugula.” It wasn’t a question. Bran shookhis head. “Not a problem. There’s a Whole Foods a couple of miles away.

“Yeah, I was there this morning.” Ollie ran a hand throughhis dark hair. “I’ll make another run since we’re already low on oranges.” Heturned to her. “Blake, do you want anything specific? Shit! I forgot to ask ifyou were allergic to anything.”

“Nope, and I’m not a picky eater,” she assured him. “Trustme, I’ve had to stretch every dollar since I moved out west. Fresh orangejuice, with a view like this, is practically a luxury vacation.” Even if thecommute was a bitch, it was possibly worth it for the view alone. You couldjust take him up on the offer to stay.

She hadn’t spent much time on the actual coast, and it feltalmost criminal that she hadn’t allowed herself to appreciate its beauty. Thenagain, she wouldn’t have had access to a place like this.

Bran really lived in a different world. By extension, shesupposed, Ollie did too.

“You should stay out here with us,” Bran offered, and bothshe and Ollie stared at him as he gulped down his juice. He set the glass onthe counter. “What? It doesn’t make sense for you to commute all the way outhere every day, and there’s plenty of space. I know I’m hard to resist, but Ipromise, I’ll be good.” He winked.

“I, uh…”

“See? I told you,” Ollie said, something moving behind hiseyes that she couldn’t decipher. “It would be nice to have you around. The poolhouse is well appointed. Private. Secure.” He gestured towards the structure atthe edge of the manicured lawn.

She had spotted it earlier. “That thing looks bigger thanthe apartment I’m in now.”

“It’s settled then,” Bran announced. He stripped off histee, revealing the sculpted six-pack and well-defined shoulders that had landedhim on the covers of fitness magazines. “I’m going for a dip. While you’re atthe store, could you grab some of those protein bars I like?”

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