“Could you take the coffee carafe?” she asked me in a whisper. “The tray is old and the handle is breaking. I am afraid I am going to dump everything all over the floor.”
I slid the carafe out of her hands and stepped aside. Braxton immediately came forward, relieving Jane of the tray.
“Please, allow me,” Braxton offered as he set the tray on a side table. He straightened, looking at Jane and extending a hand. “I’m Braxton.”
“Blackberry and raspberry. The pastries are blackberry and raspberry. I’m Jane." A flustered Jane blushed as she extricated her hand from his. “I’m needed in the kitchen.”
She fled down the hallway and I silently cursed the fact that my sister was the shyest woman on earth.
Braxton watched her go with a soft, surprised smile. “Is she your sister?”
“Yes. Jane is a very good baker. I am sure you will enjoy the pastries,” I answered, trying to focus on the positives of the situation, though they were few at this point.
“Does she work here?” he asked, almost too casually.
“Yes, she does. All of my family currently work here,” I replied, firming my tone on purpose.Hint, hint, Mr. Fitzwilliam.
Dex shifted the towel a little higher on his head and studied me. “You don't have to work at this rundown place. You could come back to the office.”
I felt his words hit me like a gust of cold air.Rundown place.“We both know you don’t enjoy small talk, so I will be brief. No.”
“I am prepared to be persuasive,” he returned, quick and cool.
“Why would you be?” I asked, and it came out sharper than I intended. “I’m sure you can find another assistant.”
He considered me for one long, steady beat. “Work ran better with you.”
“Coffee?” I interrupted, pouring automatically because muscle memory was stronger than sense. I handed Braxton a cup then one to Dex. “I really don’t think we need to talk about this anymore. I’m not coming back.”
I took a step backward, ready to help Mom with preparing the rooms.
Dex reached out and caught my wrist. His grip wasn’t hard, just enough to stop me. It felt like being tagged by electricity. My breath stuttered. His eyes flicked to mine, and he released me quickly.
“I’m prepared to offer you five times your previous rate,” he stated quietly.
Braxton sucked in a breath.
I set the carafe down before I could bean him over the head with it. “You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m practical. I have tried thirteen candidates. None were adequate,” he countered.
Memories of early mornings and late nights filled with boredom and scheduling reminded me that I wanted something different for my life. “I’m not going back.”
From the hall, footsteps approached. Jane again, this time with a plate of the requested pastries and a small pitcher of cream. Braxton moved to help before she could ask, which made Jane lose her color and then find it again in a becoming rose stain on her cheeks.
“Please, sit and enjoy,” Jane murmured, before vanishing like a shy ghost.
I pulled in a breath and turned back to the problem in front of me in a very nice but dusty suit. “Why are you really here, Dex? Because this doesn’t feel like a business trip.”
He didn't look away. “I want to talk to you.”
“About my job,” I said in disbelief.
“About your choice. Choosing to turn your back on a career versus this…” Dex looked around, an expression of frustration flitting across his face.
“Entrepreneurship opportunity?” Braxton inserted.
“Dumpster fire,” Dex finished wryly.
