After All

We’re almost at my apartment when he lowers his voice and asks, “So, forty thousand dollars. Can I ask again what you’re planning to with that money?”

I should just tell him. I know he might even help me. Or maybe that’s why I don’t.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “Besides, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. Might as well have something left to talk about.”

I thought he would press me more but instead he says, “Fair enough.”

When he pulls up alongside the apartment building, he turns in his seat toward me and puts his arm behind my seat, leaning in as if he’s going to kiss me.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, jerking my head back.

“Giving you a kiss goodnight,” he says, as if I’m clueless.

“Can you not?”

He laughs but doesn’t move. “Hey, you better get used to it.”

“I told you I’m not sleeping with you.”

His mouth quirks up into a half-smile. “I know you did and I shall cry myself to sleep about it every night. But when we’re together, in public, well…we’re going to make out and I’m going to feel you up. Feel free to do the same to me.” He sighs as he reads the shock on my face. “Alyssa, that’s what couples do. They show affection with each other in public. If we don’t, people will talk.”

“But we’re in your car. There’s no one around to even see us right now,” I point out.

Emmett stares at me and I can almost see him trying to form an argument. Then he looks down and smiles, shaking his head. “All right, so I was just trying to get a head start.”

Shit. He’s actually being adorable right now.

I think it’s time for me to escape.

I put my hand on the door handle and push it open a few inches. “Thank you for dinner. I guess I’ll sign the papers tomorrow and we’ll take it from there.”

“Dinner tomorrow night?” he asks.

“Already?”

“I don’t have to be on set until Wednesday. Might as well take advantage of my days off while we can.”

Just as long as you don’t think you can take advantage of me.

“All right. I don’t get off work until five so I don’t think I’ll be ready earlier than seven.”

“Seven it is. See you tomorrow, sunshine.”





Chapter 8





Alyssa





I’ve been working at Mad Men Studios for six years now. Started as receptionist and then worked my way up to office manager. And when I say worked my way up, I mean about a year into the job? I had a meeting with Ted and asked if I could do something more challenging. He agreed. Office managing it was.

I have to admit, I’m not the most organized person when it comes to my own personal life, but I seem to have it down when it comes to business. Maybe it’s because I’ve been doing it for so long, the same damn thing day-in and day-out, that it’s become as natural as breathing.

Today though, has been the first day that’s really thrown me for a loop.

Usually I’m at work about ten minutes early. I like to take my time to look around the office, get a cup of coffee and slowly settle into the day before anyone can bug me about something. The quiet and peacefulness really helps set the tone for the day.

Today I was a few minutes late, having overslept. I don’t think I finally closed my eyes until three in the morning, my brain was just stewing over Emmett and the situation, my heart racing like crazy. So of course when I finally did pass out, I slept through my first alarm.

The moment I walked into the building, I saw Tiffany at reception staring at me with an expression I couldn’t read. It was like she was bursting at the seams to tell me something and having to hold it back made her face red and sweat profusely.

When I went into the main office though, then I got it.

Everyone erupted into applause.

All these years at my job and I barely get a thank you from some colleagues.

But become Emmett Hill’s girlfriend and front page news for gossip sites and suddenly that’s something worth congratulating me on.

Needless to say, it was beyond embarrassing and I couldn’t even disappear into my office because now all anyone wants to ask me about is Emmett. To think that all these people were at the wedding on Saturday, not even paying attention to what was really going on, and now they all think they’re part of some clandestine love affair or some start-up they got in on from the ground floor.

Speaking of, I try and look around for Casey but I don’t see him in his office. I need to ask him straight up if it was him that took and sold the pictures. He’d lie, of course, but I’m pretty good at telling when people are lying. And if it was him, I would take great pleasure in whipping his ass with my handbag (and not in some kinky sexual way).

Thankfully, things start quieting down, even though every time someone walks past my office they do this sly kind of head nod or wink. Have we all resorted to being in high school or what? What’s next, someone is going to pass me a note asking if we’ve gotten to second base?

By the time lunch time rolls around, I need someone to talk to. It’s only then that I realize I can’t talk to Tiffany about it. While I did tell Jackie the truth, she can keep a secret. Tiffany cannot. She means well but she’s prone to bursting out the wrong thing at the wrong moment, like the time she told Casey to give me the last donut because I was having an extremely heavy period and therefore deserved it.

It doesn’t matter anyway. Ted just called me into his office.

I take in a deep breath and smooth my flowy blouse over my hips before I go inside. I can only imagine how this is going to go.

“Alyssa,” Ted says to me with a big smile. He’s sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair and sipping from a mug that I doubt contains coffee. “Shut the door, have a seat.”

Hmmm. Usually Ted does all business with the door open, unless he’s on a conference call.

I cautiously take my seat, trying to keep cool even though my heart is starting to skip. “Everything okay?” I ask him.

“Yes, of course. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Right as rain. I know you expect me to be crying in my boots because my daughter is gone, perhaps forever, run off with my best friend. That I’m overwhelmed by the bills of the wedding, let alone the fact that there’s going to be another grandchild popping up in eight months or so.” He says this so deadpan that I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. “I’m fine. Absolutely fine. Business as usual.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and a waft of whisky assaults my nose. Figures.

“Well, you look young for a grandfather,” I say lamely, not sure what to say.

He squints at me. “You know, I do want to talk to you about Emmett. I really, really do. But first, must I remind you that you called this meeting? Last week? Said you wanted to talk to me?”

Oh right. That. Funny how important it all seemed a few days ago and now it’s like everything has changed.