Chapter Six
Teague
“What are you doing?” I ask Mateo. I don’t like that he’s following me toward the garage elevator. I just had the best lunch date ever and now I need to return to reality.
Being with him was a onetime deal. He’s my boss’s son, which means we can’t hang out anymore. I care about my job and the financial security it gives me, and I won’t jeopardize that. Because I have a strong hunch Gabrielle would not appreciate my mixing business with her personal life.
Not that anything would develop between Mateo and me. He’s a major heartbreak waiting to happen. And unfortunately I don’t know any other way to be than to lead with my heart.
“Coming up to say hi to my mom,” he says.
I put my hand on his chest to halt his progress. “You can’t do that.” I’m super late on the return, having gotten so caught up in talking and sharing food with him. His mom is no doubt going to have some choice words for me.
He lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head so I get an up-close look at his girl-friendly green eyes. “Why can’t I, Knox?”
God bless America, when he calls me that I want to do things with him I don’t normally do until I know someone much better. It’s like the word is a direct link to my libido. On top of that, he smells amazing. Like aftershave and fresh mint.
It takes me a few seconds to respond.
“Because it’s not a good idea for your mom to know we had lunch together.”
“Who said anything about mentioning that? I just so happened to hop on the elevator at the same time as a gorgeous girl and she also happened to be going to the same office.” He glances down at my hand, still stuck to his chest like it’s been superglued. He smirks.
I pull my arm back. “Fine.” I really have no right asking him to stay away from his mom just to make me more comfortable.
“Thanks again for lunch,” I say on the ride up to the third floor.
“You should see me again some time.”
The elevator dings and the doors open at the lobby level. A woman I recognize from an office down the hall from Gabrielle’s enters, so I don’t respond to Mateo’s cocky invitation. Was it an invitation? Or just his presumptuous, hot-guy attitude? Yeah, it was probably that.
Mateo steps closer to me to give the woman plenty of room. His arm touches mine and makes my skin tingle.
It’s quite bothersome.
So are Mateo’s manners. His wicked smile doesn’t offset his being a gentleman when it matters, like right now as he holds open the office door for me.
Gabrielle is standing over my desk looking for something. She glares up at me, ready to let loose those unfriendly words at my absence, but when her eyes fall over my shoulder, her entire demeanor softens.
“Mateo? What are you doing here?” She doesn’t spare me another glance as she comes around the desk to hug her son.
“I was in the area so thought I’d say hello. How was lunch?”
She links her arm with his and leads him toward her office like I’m invisible. “It was delicious. You were so sweet to set your father and me up on a date. I suppose this means I have to forgive you for missing brunch.”
“I suppose so,” Mateo says, peeking over his shoulder and winking at me.
I walk to my desk, thinking I’m in the clear with regard to Mateo’s and my simultaneous arrival, when Gabrielle abruptly stops. She drops his arm, looks him right in the eye, then looks at me. Did she notice his attention stray? I don’t wait to find out. I sit down and fire up the computer.
“Do you two know each other?” she asks.
“Yes,” Mateo answers easily and without hesitation. Traitor. Not that I want him to lie to his mom. But he could have sounded a little less like he’s happy about it.
It would make not seeing him again so much easier.
Gabrielle throws blame my way with narrowed dark eyes so unlike her son’s. Mateo’s coloring is like his mom’s, but his light, carefree eyes and dimples must be from his dad.
“I didn’t know he was your son until today,” I say.
“Exactly how long have you two known each other?” she demands.
Mateo looks at the big black watch on his wrist. “Give me a second to calculate that.”
“Don’t play games with me, Mateo.” Gabrielle crosses her arms over her chest. “And don’t bother. From here on out you’ll keep your distance from my assistant.”
Yep, saw that coming.
“Thank you,” I say. “I tried telling him that.”
Gabrielle frowns at me. “I’m not telling him that for your sake, but for his.”
What? Is she implying I’m not good enough for him? I don’t have many angry bones in my body, but she’s managed to poke every single one since I met her. If I let her know her words have hurt me, though, she’ll keep taking jabs, and honestly, I don’t plan on seeing Mateo again anyway, so I keep my mouth shut and direct my attention back to my computer screen.
“Good call, Mom,” Mateo says, and his knife cuts much deeper. But then he adds, “When I meet a girl like Teague I want it to be when I’m ready to get serious.”
His compliment makes me immediately warm, and I can only imagine what my face looks like. I keep my head down so as not to give too much of my blush away, but smile in hopes that if he’s looking at me, he’ll see the turn of my lips and know I appreciate his comment.
It’s nice having Gabrielle put in her place on my behalf. Because I am a good catch. A ducking great catch.
“Or when you meet the right girl you’ll be ready to get serious,” Gabrielle says.
And just like that, she sucks any joy out of the room. The woman is a master at getting her point across.
At that moment, I decide to keep my personal life as far away from her as I possibly can. She’ll get Assistant Teague and nothing else.
“Now come in my office so I can tell you what Dad and I talked about at lunch.” She turns with an arm wrapped around Mateo’s waist.
“No way is it half as interesting as my lunch conversation,” Mateo says loud enough for his voice to carry with his back to me.
“Who did you have lunch with?”
“Knox.”
“Who’s Knox?”
“A friend,” he says before the French doors to Gabrielle’s office close.
I let out the breath I was holding. I don’t have time to think about what being friends with Mateo means because the phone rings.
And keeps ringing with call after call. I’m on the line with a client when Mateo walks out of his mom’s office and stops at my desk. A lock of his dark hair falls across his forehead as he looks down at me.
“Could you hold for a minute, please?” I have no idea what the person on the other end of the line just said to me. I press the red hold button and give Mateo my undivided attention.
“First time I’ve been cockblocked by my mother,” he says. “See you around, Knox.” He flashes his heart-stopping dimples and leaves me with my jaw hanging open.
What is that supposed to mean? He didn’t have me anywhere near getting to know his cock.
Not really.
Maybe I wondered…
“Miss Watters!” Gabrielle calls out. I hurry and finish my phone call before striding into her office, chin up. “We’re going out,” she says when she sees me.
We take her car to the Greystone Mansion & Gardens. On the short drive there, she tells me about the historic site off Sunset Boulevard and the client we’re meeting. The Cowans are a well-known family in Los Angeles, she says, and she expects everything I say and do to be without fault. We park at the top of a steep hill and walk quickly toward the entrance.
“Haley. James. It’s wonderful to see you again,” Gabrielle says, greeting our engaged couple with a warm handshake before turning to the older couple next to Haley. “And you must be Haley’s parents. I’m Gabrielle Gallagher. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you for meeting us here,” Mrs. Cowan says.
“I can’t wait to show you around the estate,” Gabrielle says. “This is my assistant, Miss Watters. She’ll be taking notes for us.”
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” I say, tucking my clipboard under my arm and shaking everyone’s hand.
“Come. Let’s get started.” Gabrielle leads the way into the mansion, taking us through the checkered marble floor interior with wood-paneled walls, before heading outside. It’s a beautiful day, the kind Disney movies make come alive, and I can’t imagine a better place for an outdoor fairy-tale wedding.
Haley and James hold hands and talk nonstop as we walk by fountains, elegant gardens, and arched trellises. They really like the formal garden for the ceremony, but when we get to the courtyard, Haley tucks her hands under her chin, twirls, and says, “We have to have the reception in this spot.”
I totally agree. The mansion surrounds the courtyard, giving it a private, majestic feel. The ground is colorful slate. A simple but enchanting fountain sits in the center. And there’s plenty of room for the number of guests on their list, as well as a dance floor.
“I thought you’d love it,” Gabrielle says. “Cocktails can be served on the terrace, which is this way.” She strides away with Mr. and Mrs. Cowan beside her, but Haley and James hang back, not quite ready to leave this space.
“You’re picturing tiny white lights strung across from here to there, aren’t you?” I say to Haley with a nod from one side of the courtyard to the other.
“Yes! How did you know?”
“I was picturing the same thing. A canopy of lights would be magical.” When I get married, I want tons of small shimmering lights. I want to dance in my bare feet. I want old music and new. I want my husband unable to take his eyes off me the entire night.
“I would love that,” Haley says. “Could we put them in the trees, too?”
“Absolutely.” I jot that down in my notes. “We will make this day perfect for you.”
“I don’t think we have to look at any other venues,” Haley says to James.
“Agreed,” he answers, like the perfect groom. He cups her face and kisses her.
I can’t stop my smile and know I should look away, but I can’t do that either. Haley and James are deeply in love, and I’m so happy to be part of their special occasion.
When they break apart, I say, “Ready to see the terrace now?”
“Yes. Thank you so much,” Haley says.
We turn to go find Gabrielle, and I see she and the Cowans have waited at the edge of the courtyard. They’ve been watching us. Mr. and Mrs. Cowan wear matching expressions of affection aimed at their daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law.
Gabrielle’s expression is harder to read, but when I reach her side she whispers, “Thank you, Miss Watters,” with the most sincere tone I’ve heard from her yet.
“You’re welcome.”
Her recognition doesn’t last long, however, and once we’re back in the office she snaps orders at me for the rest of the afternoon. I carry them out so well I leave her speechless.
That’s right, Ms. Gallagher, your bark and bite are no match for my smarts and fortitude.
…
I walk through the front door Friday night ready to collapse face-first into my pillow. Between predawn hours at the coffee shop and overtime for Gabrielle, I’m beat.
“Hey, Tea,” Harper says, rounding the corner into our much-loved living room. She’s dressed in a little black dress that I’m pretty sure is designed for nip slips.
I plop onto the couch. “Hi.”
She sits next to me, slides my purse off my shoulder, and lifts my legs onto the coffee table. “Mac and cheese is on the kitchen counter, all ready for you to consume.”
“You made me mac and cheese?” I roll my head to the side and give her a small smile. Even my face is tired. Harp doesn’t cook much, but her one specialty is homemade macaroni and cheese. It’s gooey and delicious and tastes just as good cold the next morning.
“I did.”
“You’re so good to me. Thank you.”
She gets to her stiletto feet. “You’re welcome. I’m not sure what time I’ll be home, so don’t wait up.”
“I’m pretty sure three-year-olds will be up later than me tonight.”
“Get some sleep,” she says. “Tomorrow we’re going surfing.”
Harp needs water to breathe, and she likes me to tag along. I watch her walk toward the door. “Okay. Have fun tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“I ruined that when I got dressed,” she says over her shoulder.
“Which multi-hyphenate is it tonight?”
“The actor-slash-waiter-slash-model.”
“Him again?” My best friend rarely goes past two dates with the same guy. If there were a female version of Bennett, it would be Harper.
She pauses with her hand wrapped around the open door. “Don’t read anything into it. He’s leaving for New York and not sure when he’ll be back, so we’re getting together one last time.”
“In other words, it’s your perfect date night.”
“Yes, it is, and I’ll tell you every detail tomorrow. Mwah!” She will. Tell me everything. And I mean everything. My ears received quite the education from her during college.
My cell rings inside my purse. It’s my dad’s special ringtone, so I hurry to answer it. I forgot to call him back earlier. “Hi, Daddy! I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. How’s my baby girl? You sound tired.”
“I am. It was nonstop today. All good, though. How are you?” I curl my legs underneath me. Reach over and grab a throw pillow to hug against my stomach.
“Besides the fact that your mother has got me on another healthy diet plan that includes foods I can’t pronounce, I’m good.”
“Yeah? What does she have you eating?”
“Some kinwee something or other, to name one,” he says like he’s really put out, but I know he’s not. He loves that my mom dotes on him.
“I think you mean quinoa.”
“That’s it.”
“It’s very popular.”
“So is fish and chips, but I don’t get to eat that three times a week.”
I laugh. “Miss your fish and chips, do you?”
“I miss a lot of things,” he says with affection. “When am I going to see you? It better be soon. I’m going through withdrawals.”
It’s not like he saw me all the time while I was at UO, but we were in the same state and a short car drive away if we needed a fix. I say we because more often than me driving home, he traveled to visit me at school and we’d go to lunch. Sometimes Harper would join us, but usually it was just the two of us.
“Maybe I can come home for the Fourth.”
“Of July?”
“Yes, Daddy. July.” Madison’s wedding is June 24 and I’ve been given strict instructions to be available at all times until then. With my hourly wage, I don’t mind. You can be sure I’m keeping account of all my hours on a monthly Excel spreadsheet. Plus, I really like Madison and feel like we’re sort of becoming friends.
“The BBG is working you too hard,” he says matter-of-factly.
BBG = Big Bitch Gallagher
This is what happens when your best friend thinks of your father as her second dad and has no trouble saying whatever she feels.
“She’s tough, but I’m actually enjoying it.” I’m an organized person, and getting to use those skills for things like flowers, cake tastings, music, and wedding favors is fun. A bride the other day told me I’ve helped relieve a lot of her stress. That made Gabrielle’s abrupt manner meaningless to me.
“How’s the travel writing going?”
“Slow, but I’m not giving it up.”
“In case I haven’t mentioned it lately, I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” He mentions it all the time.
I toss the throw pillow aside. “Thanks, Daddy. I’m going to eat my weight in mac and cheese now.” I start toward our cute little kitchen with polka-dot everything.
“Don’t tease me like that,” he bemoans.
“Sorry. I love you. Thanks for calling.”
“I love you, too. Talk to you next week.”
We disconnect and, like always, I feel a small tug on my heart as my mind goes to my family. I give myself a minute to think about them before taking a breath and moving on. This is what I wanted: to be independent. Out from under my family’s constant protection and surveillance. Being the baby, I’ve had that the worst. When Rod broke my heart and publicly humiliated me, all I wanted was to be left alone. If not for Erin, my parents would have had me sleeping in their bed between them again.
No thank you. I’m stronger than they give me credit for.
And I’m here to prove it.
Know the Score
April 24
Saturday night I took a girl we’ll call Elle to a small Italian place for our first date. The conversation flowed, she laughed at my humor, and she actually ate lasagna rather than a salad with the dressing on the side. Whoever told women they shouldn’t eat while on a date was wrong. Having a healthy appetite is sexy. Don’t starve yourself for our benefit. A guy likes a girl who isn’t afraid to put a piece of meat in her mouth.
So there we were, enjoying actual eating, when she made the unfortunate rookie mistake of leaning forward to give me a view of her cleavage. Don’t get me wrong, she had absolutely ace cleavage, but the woman I eventually take home to Mum has got to be bloody more original than that.
I get asked all the time what my favorite body part is. Tits? Ass? Legs? I’m going to let you in on a secret. Every guy loves those things. We’re visual creatures after all, and the first thing we notice can stick with us. But the surest way to catch our eye and make us wonder what you look like naked is to expose your wrist. That’s right, lasses. Play with your bracelet or watch and give us a glimpse of the delicate skin where your pulse beats, and we will want to take the jewelry off you. Then we’ll think about taking other things off you. The wrist may be one of your less obvious body parts, but trust me when I say there is something intimate and sensual about it.
So, back to my date; the fuck-me vibes rolled off Elle in waves after her display, which isn’t a dodgy thing if there’s mutual admiration and respect going on. But the natural inclination for most men at this stage of the game now has nothing to do with dating and everything to do with shagging. If she’d only shown a little wrist action instead, she would have had two heads under her spell.
And we all know two heads are better than one.