Before I Ever Met You

But she’s got a silly smile on her face, her cheeks pink. “So that’s Will. You’re a lucky girl you know, he’s probably the best person to work for here.” Her voice is rich with some sort of nuance I can’t place. She pauses. “I mean, your dad is really nice too, don’t get me wrong. I’ve been working for him for almost five years now and—”

I raise my palm and nod. “It’s okay. It’s my dad. You’re not going to hear me signing his praises, believe me.”

“Right, well I guess it’s good you’re helping Will then.” She leans in close. “You know he’s recently divorced,” she whispers. “Poor guy. I’m still in contact with his ex, Sasha, pretty much every day. She’s the general manager at the LA office. She’s nice and all, but I’ve heard things . . .”

I just nod, not sure at first what she wants me to say, and then remember Tiffany’s warning about her being a gossip. “The last I saw Mr. McAlister, he was with Mrs. McAlister,” I tell her, finding it neutral enough.

She laughs softly, eyes dancing. “You call him Mr. McAlister. That’s funny. Anyway, let’s get going.”

She picks up her notepad and starts walking toward the sleek white picnic tables in the middle of the room.

I look behind me at the closed door to Mr. McAlister’s office, catching him just as he’s done opening his blinds and turning around, saying something to his dogs as they come running over.

Jeez. I’ve talked to him for a few seconds and I’m already a smitten kitten. I take a moment to admire his back side, before hurrying after Alyssa to continue the rest of the tour.





2





Will





Damn.

I was not prepared for that.

Not the fact that Elsi, my dog-walker, cancelled, because she’s done that at least twice now; usually on Monday mornings when I know she goes dancing Sunday nights. I should probably get another dog-walker, but I’m new to the city and she was recommended by someone in my building. Someone that doesn’t have a dog, mind you, so maybe that should have been my first warning.

Besides, it’s not a bother to have the pups at work, since Ted kept yammering on and on about the Vancouver office being dog-friendly, hip, and whatever the fuck, as if I would really care, as if it would make the whole move any better.

No. What I wasn’t prepared for was the fact that Ted’s daughter, Jackie, is no longer the petulant teen with big eyes and a bad attitude. That’s what I remember her as, and I have to be honest, I never gave her much thought beyond that. Why would I?

But now . . . now . . .

She does look like her mother, that wasn’t a lie. Her mother is a beautiful lady. I guess I just wasn’t prepared to see how absolutely stunning their daughter turned out to be. Those big eyes are still the same, but her lips are fuller, as is every other part of her in ways that are entirely inappropriate for me to think about.

I guess I was still expecting that teenager with her dyed jet-black hair and nose ring to be my assistant. My mind just latched onto the girl that I remembered, the one who seemed bored out of her mind every time Sasha and I were over for dinner. She couldn’t wait to leave the table so she could hang out with who knows who. I know she gave Ted an ulcer most days.

That girl is gone. Jackie Phillips is one absolutely gorgeous woman, looking as lost and adrift as I did my first day here. As I’m sure I still sometimes look.

Luckily, I’m pretty good at pushing beautiful woman out of my head, even ones I’m supposed to work with every day. Couldn’t Ted have hired some long lost aunt of his instead?

I sit back in my chair and look at Joanie and Sprocket, who have flopped down in the dog bed I have by the couch. I know they’re pleased to be spending the day with me again, but if they get to be a pain in the ass, at least now I can get Jackie to take them for a walk.

I’ve only been back in Vancouver for about a month, but I don’t feel close to having settled in, and it’s kind of strange to have an assistant. In the LA office, Sasha and I shared Megan, who was the office manager, but I still did most things on my own. Booking travel arrangements, filing expense reports—the no-brainer stuff that I could easily do myself.

The moment I came up here though, Ted was insistent that I get an executive assistant of my own. I don’t know if it’s because the workload up here is heavier, especially with the animation side of things really taking off, or he just wants me to be comfortable. I suspect it’s a little of both. Ted is still handling me with kid gloves, as if the divorce has rendered me fragile and completely incompetent.

I’m definitely not fragile. Incompetent is something that remains to be seen. Sasha officially moved out of our house two years ago to be with Ansel, but the divorce was messy and only final four months ago. I tried to stick it out in LA, tried to show her that what she did to me didn’t destroy me, that I could be the bigger person here, but . . .sometimes you know when to pack up and leave.

My alarm beeps, reminding me of a conference call with Ted. Again, it’s strange to do these things in reverse. It used to be me down in LA, calling him up here.

But Ted is Ted, and always gets right to the point with these calls. Half an hour later, after Ted has assured me that everything in on track, he asks, “So how is she doing?”

“I assume you mean your daughter.”

“How does she look? Is she presentable?”

I smile into the phone. “She’s more than presentable, Ted. You never told me she’d grown up to be quite the beautiful young lady.”

“Easy now, Will. Don’t be getting any wrong ideas.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not. I’m just saying, she looks . . . very sweet. I’ll be meeting with her in a bit to go over everything, and I’ll have more of an idea then.” I pause. “Are you sure I need an assistant?”

“Who the hell is going to tie your shoes?”

“Right. But I did just fine in LA without one.”

“Because you had Sasha.”

I can’t help the bitter laugh. “Sasha only looked out for number one. And that was the company.”

Ted gives a long sigh. “Look, you know Jackie and I aren’t exactly close. To be honest, I’m not even sure how to talk to her anymore. When she was up north . . . well, I’m overjoyed she’s back here. Diane is too, but I don’t know what to expect. I just know that she needs this job and you could use the help, and why not help the two most important people to me?”

“Sentimental? At this hour of the morning?”

“I haven’t had my medication yet,” he says dryly. “Don’t get used to it. I better go, we have another meeting here with the new VFX production coordinator. You know, you have a nice crew down here. How did you manage to leave them?”

“I wonder that myself.”

“It was your choice, Will.”

I exhale slowly through my nose. “Yes. It was.”

“No regrets?”

“We’ll see.”

I’m about to hang up when I hear him say, “Take it easy on my girl. She’s had it rough lately.”

“I promise not to ride her too hard,” I smirk.

“Will . . .”

“Ted.”

He sighs and hangs up.