“In his office on the second floor. The fifth door to your left.”
“Okay.” I help her to the couch and arrange the ottoman so she can put up her swollen ankles. Then once she’s settled comfortably, I take the winding stairs.
The second floor is huge, with a high ceiling and lots of interesting artwork. Some pieces are abstract while others are more realistic: portraits and landscapes. I spot a few with a baby boy who must be Jeremy, from infancy to toddlerhood. The family must’ve spent a fortune on getting the portraits done because the painter’s quite talented. There’s a sweet lovable innocence glowing in those bright brown eyes and the cherubic smile. I swallow, thinking about what Amandine said about Elliot and me. He will one day have a ba
by that looks just like himself, but it won’t be with me. The thought sends a pang through my chest, and I rub the spot.
Come on, heart. One day at a time.
I find the office without any problem. The door’s open, and a tall dark-haired man is on his feet, looking down at a monitor on a huge desk. A hand rests by the wireless mouse, his palm flat. The first two buttons on his white dress shirt are undone, and the rolled up sleeves reveal sinewy forearms. His slacks mold to his lower body, revealing tight muscles and lean lines. He isn’t really handsome per se, but he is somehow magnetic in his own way, with a dynamic intensity that’s alluring.
But he isn’t alone. A young woman is standing next to him, and for a moment I think I’m hallucinating.
But I’m not. It really is Traci Burton.
The hazel eyes in that round face are looking at him with such softness, the particular expression I’ve seen on her face when she’s crushing hard on a guy. Her dark brown hair cascades in curls, and I know she must have spent hours doing it since her hair is naturally straight. Her black skirt is half an inch too short to be called professional, although just long enough to be acceptable in an office. Paired with tottering high heels, the skirt shows off her long, trim legs. The green top mutes the brown in her eyes, and the V-neck is low enough to show off the deep cleavage created by breasts that are definitely getting some help from a push-up bra. She’s standing too close, her chest almost touching Gavin’s left arm.
He seems completely unaware of her. The man speaks in a fast, clipped pace into the Bluetooth headphone hooked to his ear, a cool authority and energy vibrating in his voice. His dark eyes are one hundred percent focused on whatever’s on the monitor.
He straightens, then barks out a few rapid orders, using words I’ve never heard before. “Everything. Now,” he adds firmly at the end.
Traci stumbles backward at his abrupt movement, and her gaze falls on me.
Her eyes widen, then her mouth drops open. A multitude of emotions cross her expressive face. She glances at Gavin, who’s still engrossed in the monitor, then hurries out of the office and closes the door behind her, taking me with her. “Annabelle…?”
“Traci.”
“Oh my god!” She hugs me tightly. “I had no idea you were in L.A.”
“You either.” I squeeze her back. “How did you end up here? What’s been going on?”
“I just finished college last year and got a job at OWM. I was in HR for a while, but recently I got a position as Gavin’s executive administrative assistant’s assistant.” She pauses, then giggles. “Kind of a mouthful, isn’t it?”
I nod with a small smile.
“But it’s a great job, much better than HR. I had to leave Lincoln City, you know? My parents… They haven’t been coping well.”
Just like that, the crushing old guilt comes back. “I’m so sorry.”
She shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I…I didn’t handle it very well before. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized the whole thing hurt you as much as it hurt me and my family. You didn’t know, and we could’ve been kinder. After Mr. Smith shot your parents…” She exhales a shaky breath. “I felt terrible, but didn’t know what to do. By the time I thought to reach out, you were already gone.”
“I had to leave.”
“I know.” She smiles, and it’s almost like the last two years didn’t happen—my father’s idiotic scheme or her lashing out at me in anger. And for that I’m profoundly grateful. “So what are you doing here?”
“Well…I’m married.”
Her eyes go as round as her face. “No way! Really? To who?”
“Elliot Reed is my husband. He’s Gavin’s and Amandine’s friend, which is how I’m here. They invited us for dinner.”
Her face stills for a moment, then a quick smile splits it. “Nice. Congratulations.” She looks away for a second at the door behind her. “Anyway, I have to make sure he’s okay with the documents I dropped off and go.”
It didn’t look like that was all she wanted, but I don’t say anything. There’s nothing wrong in a harmless crush, especially on a young, dynamic boss. She knows he’s taken already and has a child, with another on the way. “Okay. I need to let him know everyone’s here and ready for dinner.”
“Here’s my number.” She gives me her card. “It has my mobile on the bottom. Call me! We need to catch up.”
“Absolutely.”