“Hi, Maggie,” Lola says to the brunette as she walks in a few minutes after me. She gives the blonde a side hug next and says, “Mia, how’s your mum?”
“She’s good, thanks for asking.”
The girls say their goodbyes, then Lola turns her attention to me, narrowing her eyes.
“What?” I ask defensively.
“What did you say to them? They looked like they’d seen a ghost when I walked in.”
Glancing at her over my teacup, I shrug and mumble as I take a sip. “I said hi. I don’t see the issue here.”
She pauses, then both sides of her lips curve up as she tries to suppress her laughter. “Maybe I was wrong and you should leave the personable stuff to me and human resources.”
“Why are you on my case about it? We’re five years in and thriving. We promote within, and we have a low turnover rate. I don’t see the problem. Are people complaining?”
“No,” she huffs loudly. “I don’t have all the details yet, but we’ve had an influx of resumes come in… All ex-employees of Victoria.”
Placing my cup down, I turn toward Lola and stand in shock.
That’s never happened before.
“Why? What are they saying?”
“I’m still investigating and trying to figure that out without being intrusive, but I heard shit’s going down, and not only are her employees leaving, but her clients as well. It makes me nervous. That’s why I’ve wanted you to be on your best behavior.”
“Lo, just because I’m tough in the office doesn’t make me unkind or unfair. I know it’s hard for you because you’re naturally sweet, but I didn’t get to where I am today by being best friends with my employees. I like clear boundaries, and it’s okay if that doesn’t work for you, but it’s how I work best.”
She nods. “Yeah, I get it.”
“So do you think that’s why Victoria has contacted our clients? Maybe trying to build her business back up?”
“Makes sense, but like I said, I’m still unsure of the specifics. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open and let you know what I find out,” she says, then clears her throat and rocks back on her heels. “I looked at your calendar. You’re done with meetings. Can we talk in your office?”
My face drops and my body tenses. “I’m not sure I’m ready to hear what you have to say, if I’m being honest.”
We haven’t had a chance to talk about her and Matthew, and I’m petrified—I can’t do this without her.
Her name might not be on the door, but this business is just as much Lola’s as it is mine. I’m worried because even though Matthew has sworn off relationships in the past, I know that if he’s decided Lola’s the one, he’s not going to make the same mistakes again.
He’ll put her first, or as best he can with his job, which means he’ll want to be near her at all times… long distance won’t work.
Lola doesn’t answer. Instead, she takes my hand and leads me down the hall to my office, locking the door behind us. The anxiety radiating off of her only makes me that much more nervous.
We sit on my dark blue velvet sofa, which takes up the corner section of the modern space I call my office. My décor is a mix of traditional and modern, and I’ve always thought it adds more character. Though, right now, it feels dark and dull as the mood settles between us.
Lola’s eyes are sad but clear when she speaks. “I’m not leaving you, but I am leaving this office for a while.”
I raise a questioning brow in her direction, unsure of what the hell she means. She reaches over and places her hand on my thigh, squeezing lightly as she tries to calm the impending freakout she must see boiling below my surface.
“Before you jump to conclusions, let me finish. I’ve worked diligently on this plan and it’s going to work just fine. Will it suck between you and me as mates? Yes, one hundred percent, but I need to do this for Matthew and me. So, let me explain, then we can talk about the rest.”
I lean back and cross my arms. I hate the idea of giving her up to my brother.
“Okay, I can already see by that bitch-face you have going on that I should skip the small bits and just rip off the bandage.” She crosses her arms, mimicking me. “I’m moving to Africa, and I’m going to commute, minimum twice a month. I’d have Zoom calls set up weekly with my direct reports. I made sure the Wi-Fi is adequate where we’re going to be living and—”
“Hold on.” I put my hands up. “You’re going to commute from Africa twice a month. That’s ridiculous. You’ll be bloody knackered.”
“No, honestly, I don’t think I will. Matthew lives two hours from the airport, which is practically the same time it takes me to get to Heathrow in traffic. The flight is six hours, and sure it’s long, but you know me, the second the plane is rumbling on the runway, I’m fast asleep. It sounds more dramatic because I’m commuting fromAfrica. People often go back and forth between New York and London or New York and Los Angeles, and it’s the same distance.”
