“I know you’ve just arrived,” he says as we walk, “but the board is excited to hear your ideas and we happen to have a meeting tomorrow. I’d love it if you could swing by and tell them where you’ll be starting.”
My nod of agreement is weak. I came in for my interview spouting research about employee programs I’d found online, but that hardly means I’m ready to present a plan to the board.
He comes to a stop in a large room full of empty, silent cubicles. “You’ve obviously got your pick of offices.” He winces as he laughs at his own joke. “With all the staff turnover, we consolidated most of the teams and put them on the next few floors.”
“Turnover?” I repeat.
He shrugs. “I think I mentioned in the interview that a number of our employees have gone to competitors. Everyone wants to work from home since the pandemic, and the CEO is avidly against it. That’s where you come in…We’re hoping you can stem the tide.”
Mark never mentioned even once that they were losing employees. He said, ‘We want to be a place where people love their jobs,’ which is pretty different, and the insanity of what I’ve done is becoming clearer by the second.
He gestures to the nearest cubicle, and I step inside. My first office. It’s three felt walls—probably an eighth the size of the offices my half-siblings have, working for my father—but it’s mine.
Mark follows, perching on the edge of the desk. “Look, this isn’t the greatest way to kick off your first day, but I feel like I need to level with you. The CEO’s been out of town and he was never a fan of creating this position in the first place. But I only became aware this morning of how strongly he was opposed to it.”
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
I put three grand into a new checking account before I left, but it won’t last long, and then what? Jeremy said I’d be crawling back in a week. Maybe he was right.
I sink into a chair. “So he could just…cancel this whole thing?”
Mark’s gaze flickers to mine and away. “Well, as you know… the initial contract is only for three months. I suppose if it doesn’t go well, he could conceivably decide to eliminate the position. But it won’t come to that. Why don’t we go say hi? I’m certain he’ll change his mind once you talk to him.”
I’m not certain about that at all, especially if he decides to look carefully at how much of my resume involves volunteer positions at the twins’ old preschool and realizes this is my first real job. But Mark’s already rising, already leading me back past the unfriendly receptionist and on to his boss. There was no mention of the CEO on the website, but it’s easy to imagine the sort of miserable old man who awaits us, a guy who doesn’t want to spend a dime on his employees but probably flies by private plane.
I follow Mark inside an office ten times the size of my cubicle…and stare, open-jawed, at the man sitting behind the desk.
He is, in no way, a miserable old man.
It’s Caleb, all grown up. He was in college the last time I saw him, but I’d know his face anywhere. It featured prominently in every innocent and not so innocent fantasy I had through adolescence, after all, and it’s twenty times more handsome now—all hard angles and soft mouth, a jaw in need of a shave.
I have kids to support and more shit to manage than I can possibly handle well, but something stirs to life in my chest anyway—tiny, baby butterflies whispering that perhaps this is fate. Because how else do I explain the fact that my childhood crush has reappeared in my life just as I’ve become single?
He tugs at his tie, scowling at me. “I really hope this is a joke.”
2
CALEB
The girl I watched prancing around my backyard all fucking weekend is in my office, and my buddy Liam’s got to be the one behind it.
He saw her outside yesterday afternoon babysitting someone’s kids and didn’t stop talking about her rack for a minute. I’m not sure how he convinced her to walk in here in a skirt pretending she’s the new hire, but I’m not amused.
I wait for the two of them to start laughing, for Liam to pop out from around the corner to slap Mark on the back.
“Caleb—” Mark’s voice is wary, uncertain, and if he’s acting, he’s better at it than I thought. “This is Lucie Monroe, our new director of employee programs. Lucie, Caleb Lowell, our…” He looks at each of us in turn. “Do you…know each other?”
It’s not until he says Lucie that something clicks.
It can’t be.
There was a kid named Lucie who stayed next door at the lake occasionally when I was a teen. Big, gray-green eyes, talking a million miles a minute when she got the chance. It can’t possibly be the same girl, can it?
I study her more carefully. Everything about her has changed, but not those eyes, the color of a stormy sea.
“We used to be neighbors,” she whispers to Mark. Her voice is nearly mute with surprise, which makes neighbors sound like a euphemism for something much, much worse: an ex or someone she took a restraining order against.
Holy shit. It is her, and I don’t know who I want to punch more—Liam, for what he said aloud, or myself, for silently agreeing with some of it.
Mark’s mouth falls open. “Neighbors? Where?”
“It was ages ago,” she replies, biting her lip.
“We’re still neighbors,” I correct, and she winces. Maybe she’s wondering if I saw her swimming in her fucking underwear on Saturday night.
Yeah, Lucie, I definitely saw. You grew up. Jesus, did you grow up. And I need to know why I suddenly can’t seem to get away from you.
She appears to be surprised to find me here, and I guess it’s possible—I’ve had my name scrubbed off everything online—but there’s too much overlap for this to all be a coincidence.
I glance at Mark. “Can you give us a minute?”
My tone is more a demand than a request, yet Mark hesitates, shooting me a look that asks what the hell is happening before he complies.
The door shuts, and Lucie slides into the chair on the other side of the desk. Her hair is lighter than it used to be, still dark but shot through with streaks of honey and caramel, perhaps because she’s finally allowed to go outside during the summer. Robert Underwood’s illegitimate child. I guess it’s still a secret since I’ve never heard anything about it, and he’s famous enough in my field that I would have. I’d have hoped she made the bastard pay for her silence, if nothing else, but she’s working here...so probably not.
“This is a surprise,” I begin. I clear my throat. “I didn’t even realize it was you until I heard your name. It’s been, what, fifteen years?”
“Thirteen,” she says, blushing. She blushed a lot as a kid, but it hits different now. I want to punch myself in the face again. “I thought you’d sold the house.”
“I bought it back last month. I had a place down in Santa Cruz but I needed a change of pace. I guess Miss Underwood left you her cabin?”
She nods, her eyes fixed on her lap. “I haven’t really come out much, but I’m going through a divorce, so we needed a place to stay. I’ve got twins. They turned six last week.”
“Twins? You don’t even look old enough to be married.”
She laughs. “Caleb, I’m only four years younger than you. I’m definitely old enough to be married. So are you.”
“I am married,” I reply. I’m not sure why I say it. Reflex, perhaps. Or maybe I simply sense a threat here in Lucie with her curves and her big eyes and her lip-biting.
“That’s...you’re...” She fiddles with the hem of her skirt. My gaze catches on her long legs and veers away fast. “The house has been so quiet. I didn’t think there was one person in there, much less two.”
I lean back in my chair. “I’ve been traveling for a few weeks and Kate’s been away too.” Kate’s been away too. As if she’s shopping in Paris with her mom or down at Canyon Ranch getting facials.
She nods. “No kids?”