I’d spent the last ten years actively not looking at his social media. Any mention of Bret Flowers was immediately ignored. Any hint of a tweet, any like on Facebook, any Instagram post was block, deleted, sent far, far away. I didn’t want Bret Flowers in my life, didn’t want to hear about him, didn’t care anymore whether he lived or died. Maybe that was harsh, but ten years ago he made a similar decision, and it nearly broke me.
Now, I was over him, and over it, and I was going to be a total professional.
Probably. Maybe. I could try, anyway.
“I get the feeling Lady Fluke didn’t inform you about what we’re doing here,” Bret said, his voice a smooth baritone, like satin boxers.
“Unfortunately, she didn’t tell me,” I said.
Lady Fluke pursed her lips. “I must have. I sent an email.”
I let out a breath. Lady Fluke was a smart woman, but she managed to make computers malfunction spontaneously on a regular basis. I was constantly piecing things together from half-written emails, or guessing what she wanted from her silences and the phases of the moon.
“I’m sorry,” I said, because, again, apologizing was easier. “I didn’t get anything.”
“Well.” She glanced at the men and cleared her throat. “Jude, I called you here because I want to open an American wing of the Fluke Company, and I’d like you to be involved in running it.”
I sat back in my chair, utterly floored.
Silence fell. I didn’t know what to say. For the past three years, I’d been her glorified assistant. When she was in town, I handled her appointments, arranged transportation, and generally made sure she was comfortable. When she was home in London, she sent me odd jobs and had me write random reports about whatever the hell was on her mind—mostly related to the cookie industry, but once she wanted a summary about the show Supernatural, because apparently some niece was really into it, which was a whole thing.
I didn’t know a thing about running a company, much less a cookie company. I’d picked up some things over the last three years, of course—it was hard not to, writing all those reports. But still, that didn’t qualify me in the slightest.
“Why?” I asked, blurting it out like an atomic bomb.
Her cheek twitched and I saw Bret practically laughing in the corner of my eye, and it took all my energy not to turn to him and tell him to fuck right off with his stupid handsome grin.
“Perhaps that isn’t what you meant to say,” Lady Fluke replied, her tone measured and slow. “Perhaps you meant to say, yes, Lady, of course, Lady, whatever you want.”
“Of course I’ll be involved,” I said quickly. “I’d be honored, but Lady Fluke, I don’t know a thing about running a business.”
She seemed oddly relieved at that, like it was some minor inconvenience to be overcome, instead of the whole reason she shouldn’t hire me. “You’ll learn,” she said, shaking her head. “Truth is, Jude, I’ve been quite impressed with you, and I need someone I can trust involved at the highest levels of this endeavor. I’ve already found factory space, and started the process of getting all the necessary approvals, and so you will be organizing the top-level efforts. You’ll find competent employees, make sure the manufacturing process gets up and running, and keep a generally tight ship. You will, of course, get fair compensation.”
I sat back in my chair and wanted to gag. Fair compensation wouldn’t come close to making this okay. She was taking me by the hand, lovingly leading me up to the cliff of a waterfall, and shoving me over with a smile. Enjoy the fall, you’ll be fairly compensated.
“Lady Fluke,” I said, blinking rapidly and trying to gather myself, but Bret kept coming into my peripheral vision and it was hard to think with my past staring at me from ten feet away. I was dizzy, overwhelmed, my heart doing kickflips. “I’d be happy to help however I can… but I don’t know how to run a business.”
“Like I said, you’ll learn, and Bret here will help you.” She nodded at him with her thin lips pulled back in some simulation of a smile, if smiles were actually frowns and made you look even angrier.
I slowly looked over to Bret, my former best friend, the man that once ripped out my heart, the man I’d been running and hiding from for the past ten years, and resisted the urge to scream.
“Don’t worry, Jude,” Bret said. “This isn’t my first time.”
I nearly gagged.
“Bret owns a very successful construction business,” Lady Fluke said. “We met a few years ago when he did some work for me. Now I’ve hired him to retool the factory I purchased, and he agreed to do some consulting work to get you up to speed. Depend on Bret, because he’s quite dependable, and he’s what you’ve got.”