I blinked rapidly, staring out the window as the Garment District bled into Chelsea on our way to Lower Manhattan.
“This is certainly a nicer way of moving around the city,” I said after a few moments. “This car drives like a dream. I feel like we’re in a cloud.”
“The Fairchilds are very particular,” Legs said.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It’s athemthing,” he replied with a laugh. “Not good or bad. Just who they are.”
Questions sprang to life inside of me, at least 70% of them relating to Damian. But no, I wouldn’t grill his poor driver for information. Well, notthathard, at least.
“So how long have you been working for the brothers?” I asked.
“’Bout three years. Mostly with Damian, though. Each brother has his own driver, but we all go where we’re needed.”
“Ah, so you mostly just cart around Damian and his girlfriend, huh?”
Legs chuckled, though it was hard to tell if it was anoh yes, the love of Damian’s lifesort of chuckle, or anare you crazy, they just broke up last week and he’s so single and ready to minglelaugh. I hadn’t seen any afternoon delights on Damian’s schedule, nor had his brunette business goddess come around the office since my interview. So that meant she had to be slinking around the penthouse afterhours.
And Legs would be the one to know.
“Exactly,” Legs said.
Well, it was as close to a confirmation as I’d get without asking Damian directly. I frowned out the window. I wasn’t sure why it mattered—Damian wasn’t interested in me, I had no shot at a man like him,andI was his employee. What was I actually hoping for? That my high school crush fantasies would suddenly come to life?
I spent the rest of the car ride calculating how many years after Damian graduated I spent still thinking about him, imagining the ridges of his biceps in those cut-off shirts he’d always wear at the horse farm when I stopped by to drop something off for the family. That boy could wear the shit out of some blue jeans. He’d existed as the man of my dreams for so long after he left my daily life—his knowing smiles, the soft laughs, the way I could just sit at his side and feel accepted. Those qualities were mere bonuses on top of the facts that his green eyes werestillmy favorite shade of green and his jawline paired with his plump, kissable lips were the stuff of cover models.
By the time we reached Fairchild Enterprises, I was back to my natural state, which was hot and bothered for Damian. I took a deep, cleansing breath, thanked Legs for the ride, and hopped onto the sidewalk.
The tantalizing scent of a grill greeted me. I sniffed, following the scent to the next building over. A gyro stand had popped up, and my rumbling stomach guided me toward the ordering window.
“Hello. What a delicious looking setup you’ve got here,” I cooed as I looked over the big menu board. Lamb gyros with tzatziki sauce sounded perfect. After all, who knew how long this meet-up would last? “I’ll take your classic gyro please.”
The squat woman behind the counter rang me up, which was just enough time for me to change my mind. Because what if Damian wanted one too? That man never ate. I needed to make sure he was clear-headed. But if Trace and Axel were up there too… “Actually, I’ll take four, please.”
I handed her money, watching with a smile as they wrapped meat, tzatziki, and veggies up in soft pita. She handed me a heavy bag containing four foil-wrapped gyros, and I hurried into the Fairchild building, my shoulders weighed down with the food bag and my class totes.
It was after-hours inside the Fairchild office suite, so the lights were low as I stepped off the elevator. The entire floor felt hushed and half-asleep. I headed for my desk, figuring I’d find Damian in his office. Before I could take three steps, a sharp voice broke the silence.
“Jessa. Over here.” Francis’s head poked out from around the corner down the hallway. He tipped his head toward the hall that led to the conference room.
Shit.I’d forgotten to bring food for Francis. I swallowed hard, clutching my bag of food tighter. I could offer him half of mine. Or maybe someone else wouldn’t be hungry, and Francis could share with them. I was so excited for this gyro though. Thoughts clambered over each other as I headed for the conference room, wracking my brain for a gyro solution. How had I forgotten about Francis?
I rounded the corner into the conference room, straightening my back. Here went nothing.
Francis closed the door behind me, and at the table sat Axel and Damian, faces drawn. Tension pulsated through the air.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I looked over at Francis as he took his seat on the other side of the table.
“Hey, guys,” I offered a bright smile. If nothing else, I would diffuse some of this tension. “I have a surprise for y’all.”
Damian’s gaze flicked my way. Axel lifted two fingers in a mini salute.
“Where’s Trace?” I asked. “I’ll wait until he gets here, I guess.”
Something snapped in the air, heavy and electric. Damian dragged his hands across his cheeks and Axel’s frown turned into a scowl.
“Trace won’t be joining us,” Axel said, in a sharp tone I’d never heard from him before. “He’s no longer part of the family.”