somewhat—but I’m about to be your brother’s personal assistant, at least I will be if you can’t pull up an objection that doesn’t reek of complete bullshit. Give me specifics ,Lander.”
“He sleeps with his assistants, Bell.”
“Really? Your sister-in-law told me that his last assistant was a guy, so if that’s the way Travis rolls, I think I’m covered.”
“Fine, he probably didn’t sleep with the last one—”
“ Probably? ”
“ Definitely not with the last one, but . . . Bell . . .” Again he chews his cheek, and his eyes move aimlessly around the room. “I wish you could just take my word for this.”
“I can’t,” I say dryly. He winces at my refusal, making me soften slightly. “Look, I’m taking the job . . . but I will promise you that if your brother steps out of line or does anything blatantly . . . unethical , or immoral, I will let you know about it.”
His eyes snap back to me.
I just offered to spy on his brother for him. He knows it; I know it. Now all that’s left is for him to take me up on it. Or not.
And his decision will tell me so very much about Lander’s relationship to the Gable family dynamics.
The restaurant noise that seemed held at bay in the background throughout our conversation now envelops our table, ringing in my ears, making me wonder how we were even able to hear each other speak only moments before.
Seconds pass, then a minute, and as the waiter takes away our plates, behind us someone’s cell phone rings the notes of Vivaldi . . .
. . . and then Lander nods and just like that, the noise of the restaurant just sort of falls away again, and my ears, my eyes, and my . . . well, my everything . . . are tuned in only to him.
“I still wish you would just walk away from this. But if you insist, then yes, you should tell me about anything . . . anything my brother does that makes you uncomfortable or makes you . . . wary.” He’s choosing his words so carefully now. It makes me smile. “I want you to be okay, and if you let me know what’s going on I can make sure of that.”
I shift in my seat as new dishes are brought back to our table. “Okay, I promise to tell you if things get weird, or even if I think they’re about to. But you have to do something for me too.”
He raises his eyebrows, digs into his fettuccine.
“I want this job to work, Lander.” I bring my voice down an octave, emphasizing my earnestness. “Assuming everything’s basically on the up-and-up, of course. But I worry . . . if your brother knows that we’re . . . well, that we know each other like we do, then it could make things difficult for me.”
Lander takes another sip of wine in lieu of answering.
“I just . . . I don’t want him or his wife to think of me as the woman his brother is fucking.”
“Bell.” Lander says the name softly. “It’s not like that.”
Actually, it’s exactly like that , but I keep the thought to myself and wave his concern away with a flick of my hand. “I don’t want them to think of me as the woman Travis’s brother is dating either. I don’t want any kind of special treatment any more than I want them to look at me like I’m some little gold-digging whore.”
“Bell!”
“Just let me establish a relationship with my new employers on my own merits. If the job goes well and this”—I gesture to myself and Lander with a quick swing of my fork—“if this goes well too, then we can act like we met and started dating well after I took the job. But if the job ends or this ”—again I gesture with my fork—“ends, then . . . I mean, why screw things up by revealing everything too soon? Why not just let it all run its natural course before we start merging things together, like work and family, too soon?”
“I’ve been merging work and family all my life,” he points out.
“Well, I haven’t, and I don’t want to start quite yet. Are you okay with that?”
Are you
“He sleeps with his assistants, Bell.”
“Really? Your sister-in-law told me that his last assistant was a guy, so if that’s the way Travis rolls, I think I’m covered.”
“Fine, he probably didn’t sleep with the last one—”
“ Probably? ”
“ Definitely not with the last one, but . . . Bell . . .” Again he chews his cheek, and his eyes move aimlessly around the room. “I wish you could just take my word for this.”
“I can’t,” I say dryly. He winces at my refusal, making me soften slightly. “Look, I’m taking the job . . . but I will promise you that if your brother steps out of line or does anything blatantly . . . unethical , or immoral, I will let you know about it.”
His eyes snap back to me.
I just offered to spy on his brother for him. He knows it; I know it. Now all that’s left is for him to take me up on it. Or not.
And his decision will tell me so very much about Lander’s relationship to the Gable family dynamics.
The restaurant noise that seemed held at bay in the background throughout our conversation now envelops our table, ringing in my ears, making me wonder how we were even able to hear each other speak only moments before.
Seconds pass, then a minute, and as the waiter takes away our plates, behind us someone’s cell phone rings the notes of Vivaldi . . .
. . . and then Lander nods and just like that, the noise of the restaurant just sort of falls away again, and my ears, my eyes, and my . . . well, my everything . . . are tuned in only to him.
“I still wish you would just walk away from this. But if you insist, then yes, you should tell me about anything . . . anything my brother does that makes you uncomfortable or makes you . . . wary.” He’s choosing his words so carefully now. It makes me smile. “I want you to be okay, and if you let me know what’s going on I can make sure of that.”
I shift in my seat as new dishes are brought back to our table. “Okay, I promise to tell you if things get weird, or even if I think they’re about to. But you have to do something for me too.”
He raises his eyebrows, digs into his fettuccine.
“I want this job to work, Lander.” I bring my voice down an octave, emphasizing my earnestness. “Assuming everything’s basically on the up-and-up, of course. But I worry . . . if your brother knows that we’re . . . well, that we know each other like we do, then it could make things difficult for me.”
Lander takes another sip of wine in lieu of answering.
“I just . . . I don’t want him or his wife to think of me as the woman his brother is fucking.”
“Bell.” Lander says the name softly. “It’s not like that.”
Actually, it’s exactly like that , but I keep the thought to myself and wave his concern away with a flick of my hand. “I don’t want them to think of me as the woman Travis’s brother is dating either. I don’t want any kind of special treatment any more than I want them to look at me like I’m some little gold-digging whore.”
“Bell!”
“Just let me establish a relationship with my new employers on my own merits. If the job goes well and this”—I gesture to myself and Lander with a quick swing of my fork—“if this goes well too, then we can act like we met and started dating well after I took the job. But if the job ends or this ”—again I gesture with my fork—“ends, then . . . I mean, why screw things up by revealing everything too soon? Why not just let it all run its natural course before we start merging things together, like work and family, too soon?”
“I’ve been merging work and family all my life,” he points out.
“Well, I haven’t, and I don’t want to start quite yet. Are you okay with that?”
Are you
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