I walked outside, shaking my own head as I wondered what I’d gotten myself into. This was definitely a bad idea. Trina was well ensconced in her personality. Did I really think she’d soften up toward me?
It’s only thirty days, I reminded myself. I turned on the grill and began cooking the steaks. I considered inviting Trina to come sit on the deck with me. The air was pleasant, and the view was nice with the river just off in the distance. But I decided she might ruin the calm. I’d been fake married for less than an hour, and I was already understanding why men had man caves.
I could hear her inside making the salad, often talking to herself. Most of her comments were fussing about my home. My cutlery wasn’t sharp enough. My salad servers didn’t match. I rolled my eyes, wondering why that was such a big deal. As long as things worked, what did it matter if they matched?
When the steaks were done, I brought them back into the kitchen. Trina was putting the pitcher of tea on the table which was set complete with mismatched utensils and plates. She had paper towels folded into napkins, and she had plucked a flower from the yard and put it into a juice glass in the middle of the table. I was hit with a wave of rightness about the scene. This was what I’d wanted; Trina in my house, making a home with me.
“This will have to do,” she said with her usual disapproving tone.
Inwardly I laughed. This was what I wanted? I was right. Cupid was fucking with me.
6
Trina
I sat at my desk the next day feeling cranky for no good reason. Well, there was one good reason. Ryder. That man was so … so … infuriatingly and annoyingly nice. He was right about the type of person I was. I was judgmental, which made me feel like a heel. The truth was, while his home was old and tired, it held a certain charm. The blankets on the bed looked like they were sewn by Ma Kettle, but the bed they covered was amazingly comfortable.
Nothing matched, but that didn’t take away from the fact that Ryder knew how to grill a good steak. He also picked a nice wine and had my favorite ice cream for dessert. I wanted to be annoyed at him, but he was so nice and accommodating, which was irritating in and of itself, but also made me feel ungrateful.
So as good as the food was and comfortable the bed was, I woke up irritated by my whole situation. I was ready to pick a fight, whic
h I initiated with the rickety coffeemaker. Seriously, that thing has to be older than me. Ryder had to intervene before I tossed the old coffee maker out the window.
“It’s ancient, but it brews the best damn cup of coffee you’ll ever have,” he said as he scooped the grinds into the filter.
He was right about that too. Damn him. The brew was dark and smooth, and woke up my brain. He even found a to-go cup and poured me a cup to take with me.
I was staring at that damn cup when Sinclair and Mayor Valentine entered the outer area of the mayor’s office. With them was a young woman who looked like she stepped out a coed cheerleading magazine. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and an eagerness in her expression as she took in the office surroundings.
“Trina, this is Brooke Campbell, a new assistant. Brooke, this is Trina Lados, senior administrative assistant,” the mayor said.
I looked at him and then Sinclair in surprise. I didn’t know he was hiring anyone. Usually the hiring of assistants went through me.
“Hi. Welcome,” I said, managing a smile. “I didn’t realize we had a new person coming on.” There were a bazillion pieces of paperwork that needed to be done, which I felt certain neither he nor Sinclair had initiated. The heads of offices, whether it was a CEO or a mayor, were often viewed as all-knowing, but the fact of the truth was, if you needed to know anything about what was going on in an office, the secretary was the one to ask. She was also the one outsiders had to get through to get to the mayor, which had me wondering how this woman had reached the mayor to get hired without my knowing. I was very good at my job, and I knew without a doubt that she hadn’t come through the office. She’d accessed him outside of work, and for some reason, he’d allowed it. Then again, she was pretty, so maybe she used her feminine wiles.
“I know you’ve been swamped, so I took the liberty,” he said.
I frowned. I’d been busy, but I was never swamped. I was too organized to be swamped. I had a phobia of the feeling of being overwhelmed, so I did my damnedest to avoid it.
“Ms. Campbell is a friend of the family, and I know you’ll take good care of her getting her settled and showing her the ropes,” the mayor said. “Brooke, why don’t you take the office next to mine.”
My brows shot up. She got an office? I looked toward Sinclair, who shrugged. The mayor escorted Brooke to the office next to his.
“Technically that space should be yours,” I said to Sinclair. “It’s bigger than the one you have.”
Sinclair watched as the mayor and Brooke entered the office. “I like mine being down the hall. Sometimes when Wyatt comes to see me—”
“Stop. I don’t want to know.” Of course, I already did know. There was no mistaking the satisfied expressions they sported after spending time alone behind Sinclair’s closed door. “What’s he doing?” I asked, working to change the subject.
“She’s the daughter of Mo’s neighbor and apparently a good friend. She graduated from college and needs a job.”
That rankled. “He’s abusing his authority. There are proper channels for hiring.”
Sinclair shrugged. “She’s got the skills. She’s smart and articulate. And we could use the extra hands. You should be happy. You can pass off some of your grunt work to her.”
I couldn’t help but feel like I was somehow letting the office down if the Mayor and Sinclair felt the need for additional help. But I didn’t want to admit I felt slighted.
“It still looks improper,” I said.