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Georgia
No more dirtbags.
I’m officially closed for business.
Now and forever.
I made this silent promise to myself as my hands gripped the steering wheel, snowflakes falling from the sky and splattering across the windshield as I watched the road in front of me.
“I curse the ground you walk on, Dikota Smith,” I hissed to myself.
He was the reason I was even in this current situation where I’d needed to lie to my family and borrow a car from my brother’s fiancée.
My ex-boyfriend brought the termdouchebagto an all-new low.
I was grateful that Lila had loaned me her car to take to my interview, as it was freezing in Cottonwood Cove today, and I did not want to walk.
I hadn’t told my family the truth about my car because I knew my siblings would lose their minds, and my parents would be upset—I’d have to figure something out in the meantime.
I’d wait him out and hope that the morally challenged dickweasel would come to his senses and no one would be the wiser.
I’d put Dikota in my rearview, and that was exactly where I intended to keep him—just as soon as I got my car back.
Today was a fresh start. A new beginning.
And I was here for it.
My mom had taken me shopping for a new outfit for my interview, which she’d deemed a graduation gift, as I’d just walked at my commencement ceremony less than a week ago.
The town was so festive this time of year. I drove down Main Street, where lights were strung around every light post, and they zigzagged overhead down the length of the entire street. Daylight did not do them justice. I’d been downtown last night having dinner with friends, and it had been all lit up and looked like a winter wonderland. Cottonwood Cove was not only my home, it was my happy place.
Lancaster Press had moved into the large three-story brick building not far from my brother’s restaurant, Reynolds’, a few months ago. I was interviewing for a personal assistant position for Maddox Lancaster, who was the president of the company.
I’d heard that he was an intimidating rich guy, a bit of a playboy, and a recent resident of my hometown. Apparently, they’d moved the business out of the city, and he’d bought one of the large spec homes in town. Everyone was talking about it. Small-town gossip and all that. Yeah, it was a real thing.
Personally, I didn’t know that this was the right career path for me, but I needed a job, seeing as I was temporarily homeless and carless.
Yes, I had a flair for the dramatics.
Obviously, I had a rock star family, and I could borrow a car from my parents or any of my four siblings, and I wasn’t technically homeless, as I was currently living with my brother Hugh and his fiancée, Lila. But I wanted to prove that I could do things on my own. Being the youngest of five kids when all your older siblings were absolute winners wasn’t always easy when you weren’t sure what you wanted to do with your life.
So, first things first.
Get a job.
Get my own place.
And get my car back.
I’d already made it past the initial screening with human resources, which we’d done remotely via a Zoom meeting. But the final decision would be up to Maddox Lancaster.
I pulled in behind the building and glanced in the mirror one last time before dabbing on a little bit of pink lip gloss. I opened the car door and stepped outside, wishing I’d listened to my mother, who’d insisted I wear tights beneath my skirt. I’d refused because I was already wearing this winter-white suit with a pencil skirt and blazer with gold buttons. I loved it, but I wanted to keep things youthful. I was twenty-two years old, after all. So, I’d paired it with some tan heeled booties, which Lila thought looked adorable, even though my mother had insisted I wear my nude heels.
Listen, I was applying to be a personal assistant, not a rocket scientist. And the outfit was already pretty formal for me. So, the booties and all the bangles on my wrist made it feel more like me.
I’d call this look hipster-boss babe chic.
