I appreciate that about him.
“So,” I say, crossing a leg over the other and really getting comfortable. “My first suggestion is that you relax a little. I think she’s jumpy because you’re a little … overbearing.”
“I’ve never heard that before.”
“Sure, you haven’t.” I roll my eyes. “And maybe … compliment her occasionally. Do you do that?” I pause, taking in his unmoving reaction. “Didn’t think so.”
“You want me to compliment my assistant? My employee? That’s asking for legal trouble, Dara.”
“Not like that. Just tell her she’s doing a good job. Appreciate her attention to detail. Oh! I know—this should be easy for you—tell her you notice that she’s always on time.”
I might as well have told him to ask her to marry him. He just looks at me blankly like we are living on different planets.
“I’m going to point out something—one more thing that’s none of my business—”
He sighs and falls back into his chair.
“—that your refusal to make your employee feel seen is a reflection of your apparent disregard for intimacy in relationships.”
As the last words fall out of my mouth, Wade’s office door swings open without warning. In walks a taller, slightly older, and much friendlier version of Wade. His steps come to a screeching halt when he sees me.
“I …” He swallows and looks at Wade and then back down to me again. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting.” I extend a hand. “I’m Dara Alden. It’s nice to meet you.”
A smile breaks out across the man’s face. His attention flips to Wade in a moment of incredulity before he takes my hand.
“I’m Holt Mason. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Alden.”
Wade says something under his breath that I can’t quite make out.
Holt sits next to me. “So, I heard something about intimacy in relationships?” He stares down his brother with an amusement that he doesn’t even try to hide.
Wade scowls at him, also without trying to hide it.
“Well, since your brother is tongue-tied,” I say, twisting my body to face Holt. “We were talking about Wade’s refusal … failure?” I glance quickly at Wade and then back to his brother. “Let’s go with refusal. His refusal to introduce intimacy into his relationships on any level.”
Holt quirks a brow. “Oh, really?”
“That’s enough,” Wade says, shaking his head.
I pivot in my seat until I’m facing Wade again. “That’s not enough. You won’t even listen to what I’m saying, and I’m right. I know that pains you to hear and even more to admit, but you need to—”
“Dara,” he says, his voice rising over mine. “Let it go.”
“Fine. It’s your life.”
Holt clears his throat. “So … Are the two of you …” He motions between Wade and me.
“She is Bowery’s granddaughter,” Wade says with a tinge of disdain.
I don’t have time to really process that before Holt hums in understanding.
“I haven’t seen your grandfather in quite a while,” Holt says. “How is he?”
How the hell do I know?
Knowing I can’t say that—I can’t tarnish the family reputation—I grin.
“Granddad is great. I just spoke with him the other night. We’re having dinner soon,” I say. The words sound like they’re coming from someone else’s mouth. I’m completely disconnected from them.
“Give him my regards, please.” Holt nods, capping off the respect in his tone.
“Of course.”
The space between the three of us is unwieldy. I don’t know what to say, but I can’t take the thickness of the air and the tension in the room.
“So, Holt, are you the brother who just had a baby?” I ask.
Wade’s chair creaks as if he’s moved, but I don’t dare look at him.
Holt grins. “No. That’s Coy. He and his wife had their baby boy last week.”
“Can I ask what they named it? I love baby names. I’m a photographer, and I have a fascination with what people name their kids.”
“Kelvin Joseph Mason. Kelvin is after Coy, and Joseph is Bellamy’s father. That’s Coy’s wife.”
Wade groans.
“Kelvin is unique,” I say.
Holt’s chuckle is loud and smooth. “It’s a terrible name. Let’s be honest.”
I shrug, my cheeks heating as I laugh too.
“So you’re a photographer?” Holt asks.
He looks briefly at his brother. I don’t. I can feel Wade’s vibes of displeasure smashing against me, and I’m not sure what my reaction will be if I see his moody face.
“I am,” I say, carrying the conversation along. “I do family portraits and weddings, mostly. I’m trying to move into architectural and landscape photography, but it’s a whole different world.”
“My fiancée found our wedding location from a picture,” Holt admits. “She saw it in a magazine somewhere. She’s not from Savannah, so she doesn’t know all the niche places. You know what I mean?”
“Of course.”
“Anyway, she saw a picture of the Bartholomew Gardens and fell in love.” He shrugs, unable to hide his love for his soon-to-be wife. “So, that’s where we’re getting married.”
“I know that place,” I say. “I’ve never been closer than the road in front of it because it’s so tightly controlled. It’s never open, and when it is, I think it costs a fortune. No offense,” I add quickly.
Holt laughs again. “Hey, speaking of my wedding …” He looks at his brother, his face lighting up and a smile spreading across his cheeks. “Between me, my mother, and Blaire—my fiancée—we’ve invited so many people that we’ve lost count.”
I sense Wade’s movement. My heart starts to race.
“Why don’t you come to the wedding?” Holt asks. “It’s on Saturday, so last minute, I know. But you’d get to see the gardens and have some excellent food and drinks because Siggy Mason does nothing halfway.” He laughs happily. “Maybe you’ll even meet some people who can help you expand your business. Can’t hurt, right?”
My racing heart levels up to a full-blown sprint.
Is he serious?
I look at Wade. As expected, he’s staring at me.
I can’t make out what he’s thinking—both because reading him is like reading tea leaves and because I’m so excited at the possibility that just landed fortuitously in my lap. Not only that, but it would be such a fun thing to get all dressed up and do something different.
“Are you serious?” I ask Holt.
He nods. “We’d love for you to come.”
I fidget in my seat. “I wouldn’t know anyone, so that might be weird.”
“Wade doesn’t have a date and isn’t in the wedding …” Holt says, letting his voice drift off.
My gaze snaps back to Wade’s.
“You aren’t in the wedding?” I ask.
He clenches his jaw and shifts his eyes to Holt.
“Wade,” I say, my voice rising. “That’s perfect. We can go together.”
“I’d be happy to add you as his plus-one,” Holt offers.
I turn back to Holt. “You would? I mean, I don’t want to intrude, but it would be an awesome opportunity, and since Wade doesn’t have a date anyway—it’s kismet.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Holt says.