I lean forward, running my finger around the rim of my glass. “How are you still single?”
He chuckles. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I sit back with a shrug. “I think a lot of guys I meet are intimidated by me. I mean, I’m a lawyer for one. Most guys just think that I’m snobby and uptight—just some rich bitch.” I say it like I’m indifferent. I’ve heard these things all my life. I wasn’t raised poor. I went to prep school and understand that I have privilege—more than most. “Most powerful men want a woman they can make a stay-at-home wife—someone they can break out for corporate parties and in front of cameras to prove they’re not sleeping around with their assistants.”
He laughs loud and hard. “Lucky for you, I’m not that type of guy.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want marriage and kids. I’m far too selfish for that. I just want someone who’s okay with keeping our lives separate—someone who wants the same things out of life.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, taking another sip of wine.
“Fun. Experiences. I want to work my job, putting in 70+ hours a week without someone expecting me home for dinner at the same time every night. I want to take lavish vacations and not worry about kids. I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it. I work hard. I play hard.”
Our eyes lock from across the table. “It sounds like we’re made for each other.”
We eat the rest of our lunch while talking about whatever comes up. I discover that Gavin is an only child who also went to prep school. His mother and father are still happily together, but can usually be found spending their retirement on beaches around the world or on their private yacht. He’s mostly on his own, just like I am. While I have family, they’re usually doing their own thing. We only ever come together on holidays or special occasions like my parents’ anniversary, when they have a massive party only the best people are invited to. It’s always the biggest and most lavish event of the season.
Gavin and I talk all the way back to the office. When he pulls into the parking garage, he opens my door and takes my hand, helping me out. The moment I have both feet planted on the concrete, he pulls me against his chest where his lips press against mine. The kiss is soft and slow, gaining intensity. My heart pounds in my chest and butterflies tickle my stomach when his hand squeezes my hip. His tongue is sweet like wine and his rich scent washes over me, causing my eyes to flutter closed. The way he kisses, it’s strong, but not too strong. It’s enough to let me know he means the emotion behind the kiss, but not so intense that he’ll be trying to press me against the hood of his sports car.
The kiss slows and breaks away. Our eyes lock and he lets out a long breath. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to wait a whole year to do that again.”
A silent laugh escapes my lips in a puff of air. “Weren’t we supposed to find the things we hated about each other?”
He chuckles. “I tried, but I couldn’t find anything. You were put here just to keep me humble.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just a reminder that I can’t have everything I want, no matter how much money I have,” he says, pulling away.
Gavin walks me back up to the office and we promise to keep in touch over the next year. I finish packing up my office and decide to leave early for the day to get a jump-start on packing my belongings at home. But before I leave, I find the contract on my desk as Mr. Mason promised, along with a set of keys. I pick them up and smile before signing the document and handing it off to Mary.
I find the car that’s been provided for me just outside the building. It’s a shiny silver Tesla and I can’t wait to have it packed up so I can get on the road, driving toward a better life. I place my box of office supplies in the passenger seat and climb behind the wheel, heading for my apartment.
The weekend passes quickly and by Monday morning, the car is packed up and I’m dropping off a check to pay my rent for the next year. I have the trunk of the car crammed full of clothes, shoes, makeup, and jewelry. My little box of office supplies has been moved to the back. The passenger seat holds my purse, a tote bag full of snacks and drinks for the drive, and an envelope containing the paid rent receipt and keys for the place that’s been rented for me for the next year.
I program the GPS with my destination, fill up with gas, and hit the highway, ready to meet this Mr. Drake Slade and conquer Colorado so I can get back to the new fancy life waiting for me in Los Angeles at the end of the next 12 months.
Everything is looking up. There’s no doubt in my mind that I can do this job. Sure, Colorado isn’t the place of my dreams, but I can do it for a year in order to get to where I really want to be: the top of the Mason, Lawrence, and Howe Law Firm, looking down on California from my big office in the sky—maybe even with Gavin on my arm—while stepping on all the little Jeremys of the world. Life has never looked so promising.
2
Drake
“GOOD morning, sir,” Harrison, my advisor at Slade Brewery, says as he walks into my house, shaking my foot as he passes the recliner I’m sitting in.
“What’s good about it?” I ask, being the bitter smart-ass I am. I pick up my cup of coffee and take a sip.
“And what exactly is so bad about it?” he asks, sitting on the couch at my side. Harrison has been with the family—and the family business—for as long as I can remember. He’s more than just an advisor for the company; he’s an advisor for my everyday life. He’s like my own personal assistant. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him, but I’d never let him know that.
“The sun is shining,” he continues, “birds are chirping, and the temperature is warm. This is the kind of day that makes me count my blessings.” He leans back and smiles as he looks off toward the window. The blinds are down, but they’re open, sunlight streaming through, lighting up the dust like specks of glitter.
I scoff at his statement, and that causes him to cut his eyes toward me.
“You, my boy, are bitter and cynical. Are you ever going to get out of this bad mood you’ve been in for the last four years?”
“Highly doubtful.” I sit up, kicking down the footrest as I do so. I rest my elbows on my knees, holding my cup of coffee in both hands. “So, what’s new in the world of alcohol?”
He shakes his head but lets the prior subject drop as he sits up. “I’ve been in contact with the firm, and they’re sending someone to replace Burns this coming week. I’ve already got you on their schedule for Thursday afternoon.”
“Did you tell them that I refuse to come into town? If I’m going to have to take time out of my day to meet with this new lawyer, it’s going to be on my terms.” My voice is firm and even, making sure he understands that I’m not giving an inch on this.
He nods once. “I did,” he replies.
“Fine.” I finish the rest of my coffee and set the cup on the coffee table between us with a loud thud. “Anything else that needs to be brought to my attention?”
“I don’t think so. Everything is running smoothly at the brewery. The beer is brewing and the whiskey is just waiting for the formalities.”