A Love Letter to Whiskey (25 page)

I swallowed, but felt that resolve sink in deeper. She said I couldn’t do something and my mind immediately went to all the ways I’d prove her wrong.

“To be honest, I have no idea who is supposed to tell you what you’re doing but I imagine they’ll be by eventually. Bathrooms are that way,” she added, pointing back toward the elevator. “If you need me, I’ll be at the front.” She gave me a pointed look then, arching one of her dark, perfectly manicured eyebrows. “But do your best
not
to need me. Kay?”

I fought back a smile, nodding once in answer. “Thanks for the tour, Mona.”

She waved me off, clicking away with a slight sway in her pencil skirt. She was beautiful, exotic, and I suddenly felt a little under dressed in my dress slacks and flowy top.

I dropped my purse onto the desk and looked around. It was early, I was one of the few people in the office, and those who
were
there weren’t paying attention to me — not yet, at least. I made a promise to myself then that by the time my internship ended in August, they’d know my name. They’d know exactly who I was.

My phone pinged and Jamie’s name lit up the screen, making me smile. I slid the bar on the screen and his message filled it.

— Sign any NYT bestsellers yet? —

No matter how often or little he texted me since our night together back home last weekend, it always warmed the skin of my cheeks to see words from his fingers. It was even better when he called me, which had been nearly every night since I’d flown out to Pittsburgh.

— Working on it. Pondering if I should aim for top agent or CEO. Have to align the strategy accordingly, you know? —

— Go get ‘em, tiger. Call me tonight. —

My heart flipped at his request and I bit my lip, staring at the message. I loved our late night phone calls. I was learning more and more about him, just when I thought I knew all I needed to. It wasn’t that I changed my mind about the long distance thing, but where was the harm in talking and texting? In seeing each other when it made sense? I wasn’t expecting any more of Jamie and he wasn’t asking any more of me, which was exactly what I needed at that point in my life.

“I see you’ve just been blown away by the welcome committee,” someone said behind me. I jumped, tucking my phone back in my purse and whipping around. It was a boy, or should I say a man — he couldn’t have been much more than two or three years older than me. His dark blonde hair was parted at the side and flowing in a swoop like he worked all morning to get it that way. His eyes were bright blue, kind and inviting, and he had a wide grin that reminded me a little of Ethan’s. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I said, reaching out my hand and returning his smile.

He took it, giving it a light but firm shake before eying the few people at their cubes over my shoulder. “Sorry about them. It’s busy for us lately, and I guess that gives them all an excuse to forget their manners.” His eyes found mine again and he dropped my hand, resting his elbow on the wall of my cube. “I’m sure after a riveting tour with Mona, they feel like a field of puppies.”

I laughed at that, but I was nervous. “Oh no, she was great. I really love the hammock room.” I cringed.
I really love the hammock room?
Cool, B.

He cocked a brow. “She was great?” He shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you it’s terrible to lie to your boss on the first day?”

My stomach rolled and I blanched, stammering. “Oh, I mean, it really wasn’t that bad. I think she’s just busy. It’s actually—”

“Relax,” he said with a chuckle, pushing off his casual stance on the wall of my cube. “Coffee?”

“Please,” I breathed.

He led the way, introducing me to a few of the associates he’d been referring to as we passed them. When we made it back to the chic break room, he popped a new cup into the Keurig and leaned against the counter to face me, folding his arms. “So, Brecks Kennedy, you ready for your first day?”

My name didn’t sting as much as it had when I was younger, but it still unnerved me, and I brushed a long chunk of hair over my shoulder before correcting him. “It’s just B, actually. I don’t really go by my full name. But yes, very honored to be here…” My voice faded when I realized I didn’t know his name. Mona had been the one to handle my hiring paperwork over email, and I had no idea who I was reporting to.

“River,” he said, pulling the fresh cup of coffee from the coffee machine and handing it to me before starting another for himself. “River Godsby.”

“
Godsby?
” The Chairman and CEO of Rye Publishing was Randall Godsby, and my wheels started turning before River could even respond. Not just about the fact that they were surely related, but the fact that his parents had named him
River
. His name sounded as expensive as the Zegna suit he was wearing.

He nodded, a smile playing at his lips as he turned to face me again. “Indeed. Randy is my father.”

“Oh.” That’s all I said. I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that.

River chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of a family business. I’ve been in the literary world since I was in the womb, practically.” He smiled that wide, genuine smile again and I relaxed a bit.

“That’s neat, actually. Are you… what’s your position here, if you don’t mind me asking.”

He smiled. “Not at all. I’m an agent right now, but on my way to vice president if I have anything to do with it.”

“Impressive,” I said, taking the first sip of my coffee. I wasn’t sure where any of the creamer or anything else was and it was scalding hot, so I flinched, but tried to hide it.

River laughed, grabbing his own coffee and guiding me to a cabinet that held what I was looking for. “Here,” he said, handing me a few creamers and packets of sugar. “Fix your coffee up and take a few minutes to get settled at your desk. Your login info should be on a sticky note on the keyboard and you can change your password then. Get your email set up and I’ll be over to touch base in fifteen or so, okay?”

“Sounds great.”

He turned, but paused. “And B?”

“Yeah?” I asked, mid-tear on the first sugar packet.

River eyed me curiously, in a way that reminded me way too much of the first time Jamie had looked at me. “Welcome to Rye Publishing.”

I MOANED OUT LOUD
as I slipped off my first high heel and let it fall to the floor just inside my apartment. Stretching my toes, I pulled the bobby pins holding my hair up before tugging the other heel off and letting myself fully sigh with relief.

It had been a long, hard first day — but an amazing one, too. I smiled as I picked up my shoes and padded into my bedroom, tossing them to the bottom of my closet before turning and heading straight for my freshly stocked fridge. There was a cold slice of pizza and chilled beer in there with my name on it.

My head was still spinning with all the information I’d had shoved at me that day as I took the first bite and popped my beer open. I looked out the large window on the far side of my small studio apartment, loving the floor-to-ceiling view of Market Square. It was the main reason I decided to live here, even though it was more expensive than every other place I looked at. It was worth it to me, to spend a little more but get a view like that. Plus, it had a bathtub, and that was a
necessity
.

I think there are some times in life, seemingly insignificant snapshots of time, where a sizable shift takes place. Standing barefoot in my kitchen overlooking downtown Pittsburgh while I ate cold pizza and chased it with cheap beer was one of those times for me. This was it — I was on my own, for the first time in my life, and I was doing it. No mom, no roommate, no boyfriend — just me — and I was going to show the publishing world who I was in that summer I had their attention if it was the last thing I did.

When I finished my pizza, I texted my mom quickly before calling Jamie. My fingers still shook slightly when I called him, or in the few seconds it took me to answer his call, instead. After three years of ignoring him, I was finally at the point where I felt like we could be good for each other — even if just in the friendly way. I’d missed him, missed our conversations, and if I got to have his hands on me occasionally, too? It was an all-around win.

“I just rode the best wave,” he answered, breath heavy in the receiver. “You should have been here. For South Florida, it was like surfing gold.”

“Rub it in,” I teased.

“Okay. Did I mention I’m not wearing a shirt?”

I chuckled, tapping the speakerphone button before dropping my phone to the bed so I could undress. “You never did play fair, Jamie Shaw.”

“So you’ve told me.” I swear, I could feel his grin through the phone. “How was the first day?”

“Long, but amazing. My boss is young and really cool. He seems eager to have me start on projects, which eases my initial worry of being a paper-pusher all summer.”

“Yeah right. Like they’d stuff you behind some desk. You’ll probably be opening another office in NYC by next week.”

I smiled, both at the image he’d painted and the faith he always had in me. “How was your day?”

“Meh,” he answered as a soft dinging noise rang out behind him. I heard the Jeep door close and the ringing stopped as he thrummed the engine to life. “Work was work, but I got out of the office early enough to get in some surf time. So life is great.”

“I miss the beach already,” I said with a sigh, pulling my loose silky blouse over my head.

“It misses you, too. Not as much as me, though.”

My cheeks heated and I unzipped my pants, wiggling them off my hips before letting them fall and kicking them near my clothes hamper.

“Are you getting undressed?” Jamie husked.

“Maybe.”

He groaned. “That’s just cruel.”

“Relax. I’m just taking a bath.”

“Of course you managed to find a place with a bathtub.”

“You know I wouldn’t live without one again. The seven months at Alder were torture enough for life.”

Jamie was quiet then, and I wondered if hearing me speak so casually about that time in our lives stung. I felt it a little, like an electric shock when you touch a freshly-laundered pair of jeans.

“I want to see your new place,” he finally said.

“So get your ass up here.”

Jamie laughed. “Oh sure, I’ll be on the next flight. Who needs a job, right?”

“Exactly.”

I peeled off my panties and unhooked my bra, and then an idea sparked to life. I bit my lip, wondering if it was stupid, but grabbing my phone and clicking on the video chat option before I could talk myself out of it.

“Turn on your video and I’ll give you the virtual tour.”

“Hang on, I’m just pulling into my house. Give me a few minutes.”

I set up the camera on my end, making sure it was facing away from me as I walked naked back to the kitchen to open a new beer. When Jamie’s video clicked in, I saw his face, and he saw my view of Market Square.

“Damn,” he said, dragging the word out as he slung his own keys down on the same table he’d missed the night he’d taken me home. “Look at you, big city girl.”

“Pretty, right?” The sun was hanging low over the high buildings, casting shadows between the streams of golden rays of light. It seemed the entire city bled black and gold always.

I walked him through my tiny space as he kicked back on his bed, excited that he loved my first apartment as much as I did. Even though it was only about the size of my dorm room at Alder, it had hardwood floors and modern appliances. I’d decorated it simply in the week that I’d been there, but it was just enough for me. My bed had the same view through the large window and the more the sun set, the more rustic my place felt.

“Alright, I know you’re dying to show me the bathtub.”

“Of course. Had to save the best for last.” I still had the camera angled away from me and I walked him into the bathroom head on, giving him only the view of the toilet at first, then turning left and revealing my beautiful, freestanding claw bathtub. “Ta-da!”

Jamie exaggerated a long gasp followed by an “
oh
” and “
ah
.”

“Isn’t it
gorgeous
?” I scanned the tub from faucet to back like it was a tropical scenery. Leaning forward a bit, I turned the water on and adjusted it to the hottest setting before standing again. “Totally worth the extra five-hundred bucks a month.”