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“I don’t think we can keep doing The J, especially without another chef. I can’t make all the food for two events at a time.” Harper must not have noticed that her words affected her sister.
Another chef, AKA not a cook. Lucy wasn’t formally trained like Harper was. Harper had spent four years in Paris learning to cook in fancy restaurants. Lucy had spent that same amount of time at diners in town, learning to cook almost anything, but nothing fancy.
“So, we’re just letting it go?” Lucy had worked for months to get them to be the first choice if the house caterers couldn’t do it. Hours of calling and charming the manager, dozens of free samples she made without Harper even knowing about it, just so that Harper could have her dream—a dream she no longer wanted.
“Kaine and I thought that it was going to be too much for me, even with your help,” Harper said, her attention on something else.
Lucy dropped the rest of the cinnamon roll onto her plate. She couldn’t eat. Her sister had just told her that she wasn’t equal in the business and had just been helping out.
“Send me the information about that job, Mom,” Lucy said in defeat there was no changed Harper’s mind once it was made up. With a sigh she got up she left the room. What did she have to lose? Her current extra job wouldn’t pay the bills, and apparently, she was no longer a caterer.
Her mom must have had some pull because here she was six months later. Though she hated being a secretary, she was good at it. Actually, better than good at it; she seemed to be great at it. When she had started, it was for a lower-level executive and had been poached by the owner within three months.
Now she had worked on the top floor for Leonard Montgomery. From 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., she was nothing but the professional that Mr. Montgomery wanted her to be. And she even dressed the part in skirts or slacks and blouses with sweaters on top. Well, it had been winter almost since she’d started.
Lucy stamped her high heel into the carpet. She should have told her sister no, but she lived with the hope that one day her sister would want her back. That day was not today.
With one last glance out the window, Lucy left the office and sat down at her own desk. Flipping through the calendar on her desk, she knew nobody else could read it. She wrote it how she saw it, which was completely wrong and in capital letters. Mr. Montgomery thought she had a unique shorthand, but she didn’t. It was just her being awful at spelling. Most of the time, she just had everything memorized and used the calendar for backup.
Like today, she knew Mr. Montgomery was in court with his ex-wife. They had been divorced for as long as she had worked for him, but not too long before that. The woman was constantly looking for more money and just messing with the amount of time Mr. Montgomery got to see his kids. It was just a waste of time, and even Lucy was tired of it. And Lucy was just the man’s personal assistant.
Her eyes were still on the computer when the man himself walked into the office. Leo Montgomery hurried in with a file tucked under his arm. His black suit looked as fresh and crisp as it had five hours before when he had walked in for the day. His dark brown hair was still perfectly combed without a hair out of place. Nothing about his actions gave her any indication of how court went.
“Mr. Montgomery, is there anything I can do for you?” She hopped up and followed him into his office. As she did, she pulled the Bluetooth headphones from her ears that she used to have the computer read her the files she had to review and tucked them into her pocket.
“No, nothing, Lucy. Is there any coffee?” he asked, sitting behind his desk.
“Sure, let me get you some.” She turned and walked back to her office, where the coffee pot was sitting.
Quickly, she went back to him with his cup in hand. Careful not to spill the hot liquid, she carried it to his desk and set it down where he liked it.
Over the last five months, she had enjoyed working with him, though he wasn’t all that easy on his employees. But Lucy had nothing to lose and just let his comments roll off her back, from not calling her by the correct name to changing his requests in the middle of a conversation.
Sure, changing things in the middle of telling her about them had been annoying, but calling her Macy had been weird. It was eerily close to her identical twin’s nickname, which was Maby. But it was also an odd combination of the two names. The nickname didn’t bother her at all. When she started, she wondered if he had known her sister and was oddly combining their names but had later found out he never tried to learn a person’s name for a few months.
“Do I have anything planned this evening?” He didn’t pick up the coffee. Lucy wasn’t surprised—he almost never did.
“Yes, you have a date with Jessica Henderson at 7 p.m. at The Detail.” She sat down, perched on the chair in front of his desk.
“Are you sure?” he quizzed. He didn’t really trust that she had his schedule memorized.
“Yes, Mr. Montgomery. Tomorrow you have dinner with Kelsey Murphy, but tonight is with Jessica.” She bounced her left leg as she spoke, nervous energy that needed an escape route.
Yes, her boss had two dates in two days with two different women. That had been the pattern since she had started working for him. Lucy knew more women in this town than she had ever wanted to. Or at least their names.
“Did Ellington bring up the financials?” he questioned as he waited for his computer to come alive.
“No, but he emailed them to you around noon. Did you want me to print them for you?” she asked. They were trying to use less paper and more electronics, or so he said. Lucy still saw him with paper files all the time, though.
“No, I’ll look on the computer,” he mumbled as if computers were suddenly a new invention to him.
“Bill Handler from a real estate office also called. He emailed you some listings you might like. Are you selling your house?” She had been curious about that one.
“I would like you to keep my private life private, Lucy,” he replied coldly, glaring at her with his almost black eyes.
“You know I will, Mr. Montgomery.” She stared back at him, trying not to let the comment get to her but also wondering what was up with him. It didn’t matter if he moved or not. To her, his house was only an address, one that she had memorized.
“Good. Now, if you could print off those financials for me,” he said, once again changing directions in the middle of a conversation, wasting paper.
“Will do, Mr. Montgomery.” Lucy got up and walked out of the office, leaving him to do whatever he did. It had been three months, and she still wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what he did. So far, it hadn’t mattered.
