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Merritt~
When I had signed up to be Cutter Moore’s personal/professional assistant, I had underestimated the man, and now I was half-convinced that he was superhuman. Both he and his brother, Cotter, were like machines, and it was like they were allergic to sleep or rest of any kind.
Now, while the job paid enough to keep me dripping in diamonds if I chose, my life’s dream hadn’t been to be at someone’s beck and call twenty-four-hours a day. Growing up, I’d dreamt of becoming a professional gymnast. However, at the age of sixteen, I’d gotten hit by a drunk driver after leaving a high school party, and the accident had shattered my ankle, ending that dream. Although my parents had paid for the best to repair the damage, it hadn’t been enough to sustain the kind of physical stress that came with any kind of athletic sport.
Luckily, I hadn’t had to face that dark time alone. I’d had the support of my parents and brother, and it’d been the perfect balance of reassurance that I’d needed. My dad, Curtis Dale, was a research chemist, so his advice had been all about my other options in life. My mother, Brenna Dale, was a pastry chef, so her advice had been all about taking as much time as I needed to find the right path for me. My brother, being only two years older than me, had been only eighteen and already enlisted in the Navy, so his advice had been to fight for the life that I wanted, no matter the obstacles. To no one’s surprise, he was a Navy Seal now and a career military man.
At any rate, after high school, I’d gone to college as planned, but as I’d witnessed everyone else around me following their dreams, I’d begun to feel sorry for myself. So, instead of going into teaching or something that’d been close to my heart, I’d chosen to get a degree in business, and I’d hated it so much that it was still one of the biggest regrets of my life. Nonetheless, not wanting all that time and money to be for nothing, I’d started my career as a professional assistant right after college, and if there was anything that I’d learned over the years, it was that finding a decent boss was like looking for a unicorn in the wild. Wealthy and powerful people were horrible more often than not, and I’d worked for my fair share of bridezillas in the past.
So, even though Cutter Moore didn’t sleep, he wasn’t a jerk to me. Yeah, he kept me on my toes, and I barely had a life outside being his assistant, but he paid me well, treated me with respect, and even if he was a bit distant and cold, he wasn’t cruel. Well, not that I’d ever seen. Granted, I never saw him inside a board meeting or knew anything about his personal life, but so far, the money was still worth the bags under my eyes.
Luckily, though I had no friends, I had managed to meet my fiancé, Steven Trapper, before I’d taken the job with Cutter Moore. Steven and I had met at my last job, and while I’d been a simple receptionist for Grover Finance, Steven was one of their top financial analysts, and our relationship had started out nice and slow like relationships were supposed to. It had started with a greeting every morning, then asking how I was doing, then trading weekend stories, to Steven finally asking me out after about six months of becoming friends.
His proposal had come after about a year of dating and right before I’d gotten the job working for Cutter Moore. It’d been a romantic affair, and my parents had been thrilled. Steven checked all their boxes as parents, and he really was the definition of a good guy. Corey thought that Steven was a bit of a putz, but that was because my brother was hardcore alpha all the way. Though Steven wasn’t a wimp, he was nice and always had an easy disposition.
Steven was also good-looking in that California-All-American way. Though he was only five-foot-ten, his lack of height didn’t bother me much since I was only five-foot-three. His height aside, Steven had sun-kissed blonde hair, Caribbean-blue eyes, and was nicely built. At thirty-four, he was only a year older than me and was still not letting anything keep him from the gym. Appearances meant a lot in his line of work, and when he met someone, he wanted to come across as someone that was disciplined, and being overweight wouldn’t make that possible.
It was also a good thing that Steven was so dedicated to his job. With the hours that I kept, Steven would have moved on if he hadn’t had a job that was just as demanding. If we were lucky, we could squeeze out a couple of weekends together during the month, but I was okay with that. We lived together, so while we didn’t get to spend much time together, we saw each other every day and night, and I knew that things would change for the better once we got married.
If you guys ever get married.
Shut up.
I let out a sigh as my phone chimed with an incoming text. Two years later, and Steven and I hadn’t even begun to discuss any details about our wedding still. I used to bring it up all the time, but he seemed so uninterested and would always say that we had plenty of time to plan one, so I kind of just let it go, and I honestly couldn’t recall when the last time was that I’d brought it up.
Steven: I 4got 2 tell u that my cousin is getting married this weekend. Do u think Moore can give u the weekend off? If not, at least Saturday 4 the actual wedding?
Now, while most women would be bothered by Steven’s last-minute request, I was used to them. Honestly, even if he’d told me about it a month ago, Cutter’s schedule was insane, and I usually had to request time off three months in advance for him to guarantee any time off.
Me: I can ask
Steven: I don’t want 2 go without u, but my mom would kill me
Me: Let me find out. I’ll text u back
If I had one complaint about Steven, it was that his family was very image-orientated. His mother was a gossip bird, and she really would give him hell if he didn’t show up. I supposed that was why Steven was so mild-mannered; his mother was dramatic enough for their entire family.
Me: I just got informed that there’s an engagement this weekend 4 Steven’s family. Would it b possible 2 take Saturday off?
My stomach sank as I hit the Send button, not because I thought that Cutter would get nasty, but because last-minute requests were rude if they weren’t an emergency, and Steven’s cousin’s wedding wasn’t an emergency. Plus, Saturday was also only three days away.
Cutter: This Saturday?
My stomach sank even further.
Me: Yes, this Saturday. His cousin is getting married
I wasn’t sure why I mentioned the wedding since Cutter Moore didn’t care about sentimental things like that, but I felt that he was owed the details since it really was last-minute.
Cutter: I’ll need u 2 work late Friday, then touch base on Sunday 4 anything that comes up on Saturday while ur otherwise occupied
Though Cutter’s text sounded passive-aggressive, I knew that it wasn’t. Both Cutter and Cotter Moore had these weird speech sort of accents that came out every now and again. Their older brother, Phineas Moore, was a famous retired snowboarder, and he’d once said in an interview that his dialect was a result of being raised around lots of different nationalities in his household. The whole world knew that he’d been talking about the help, but Phineas had been intelligent enough to word it in a flattering light. At any rate, my guess was that Cutter and Cotter had been raised the same way for them to speak the way that they did.
Me: No problem. Sorry 4 the last-minute request
Cutter: C u n the morning
After letting Steven know that I’d gotten Saturday off, I got back to work, wondering if I even had time to buy something nice to wear, though probably not.
