Chapter 22
Arabella freezes the second William mentions my name. Her skin turns bright red and her jaw drops open.
“Wh-what?” she stammers.
“You heard me,” William says firmly. He sweeps his arm out toward where his iPad is docked on the desk and looks straight at me. “Ms. Grant, do you care to say hello to your British counterpart?”
I love my man.
I smile brightly at Arabella. “Hello, Arabella.”
Arabella’s eyes pop wide open the second she sees me. A look of utter horror and shock are etched on her face.
“So, Ms. Grant, please elaborate, if you would be so kind. Do you feel it is Ms. Dalton’s duty, as my assistant, to attend to my every personal need and want?”
Oh, I am soooo loving this.
I stare hard at Arabella and answer William’s question. “No, Mr. Cumberland, I do not. I am here to assist you on business matters,” I say, lying through my teeth. “For example, I think you are perfectly capable of determining what you would like to eat for breakfast without my assistance.”
Arabella looks like she wants to throw William’s iPad right out into the Sydney Harbor. Ha!
“Furthermore,” I continue, “I do not think it is my place to suggest you get a massage or anything else of that nature. It is not professional for me to do as your assistant.”
But totally appropriate for me to suggest as your girlfriend,
I add to myself.
Arabella is shooting daggers at me.
I smile and return them in kind.
“Intriguing philosophy, Ms. Grant,” William says, staring at me. He puts his fingertips to his lips as if he is deeply assessing the value of my words. I see his eyes shining and I know he loves this just as much as I do right now.
Then he turns back to Arabella. “I concur with Ms. Grant. Please stick to the business at hand, Ms. Dalton. Plan the menus, make sure I have everything I need for the meeting tomorrow, and I will request things as needed as the negotiations continue. Is that understood?”
Arabella swallows and looks down at the floor. “Yes, Mr. Cumberland.”
“If that is all, I need to get back to discussing the week ahead in Chicago with Ms. Grant. She was kind enough to indulge me addressing work issues on her Saturday, and I do not care to delay her any longer than I have to.”
Bah ha ha! It is getting really hard to keep a straight face now.
“Yes, Mr. Cumberland,” she says.
Arabella gives me one quick glance, and I smile brightly at her. Her eyes narrow again and then she turns and walks briskly out of the room. I hear the door shut and then I look at William, who is now walking toward me.
“Damn it, I do not have time to waste on her!” he snaps, sitting back down in front of me. “This time belongs to you! This pisses me off!”
I was set to be furious, to rant and rave about how she is trying to make moves on him, about what an epic bitch she is, but when I see how upset William is about losing time with me, I can’t do it.
Studying his exhausted face,
I know what my man needs right now. And that is not it
.
“William,” I say softly, “Please don’t be angry. You need to focus on Snap-shots.”
William exhales loudly. “What if I just throw a bunch of money at them to get this done? I just want to come home to you, Mary-Kate.”
“William!” I cry, “That is
not
what a badass mogul does! You go in there and be
William Fucking Cumberland
. You make them sweat and you get the best deal for Connectivity, and that is what you are going to do! I will not stand for anything less from you.”
Despite how exhausted he is, the intensity is back in his laser blue eyes. “You’re right.”
“I know I am,” I say firmly, staring at him, wishing to God I could be there with him. “So I want you to prepare to be that badass. Go get Snap-shots. Then you can come home to me.”
“I am probably going to be here for another week,” William says seriously, putting his hand back up to the screen. “Once I get the takeover done, I’ll have to do interviews, which I despise, then reassure the people at the Sydney office that everything is going to transition well.”
I put my hand up and touch his on the iPad screen. “I figured as much.” I remove my hand and lift an eyebrow at him. “You aren’t going to handpick a Sydney assistant, are you?”
“I saved that move for a certain sexy redhead in Chicago,” William says, lifting an eyebrow back at me.
I blush furiously, and he smiles.
I clear my throat. “I will try to have your penthouse done by the time you get back,” I say, trying to make the best of the situation, although the idea of him being gone for fourteen days makes my heart hurt.
“Ah, yes, the project you ignored because you were mad at me,” William teases.
“Oh, shut up!” I say, laughing.
He laughs with me, and I bask in the richness of the sound.
“Seriously, though, I cannot wait to see it,” William says. “I know it is going to be brilliant.”
“I hope so,” I say. “I am actually going to start tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to do some articles for the Beautiful Homes website.”
“Good. Send them to me as you finish so I can read them.”
“William, you don’t have time for that!”
“I,” William says firmly, staring at me, “
always
have time for you.”
Oh my God. I am really tempted to tell him throw his money around and get back on the next flight headed back to Chicago.
I nod. Then I get serious on him.
“Please take care of yourself,” I say honestly. “Make time to swim,” I add, knowing that is how he relieves stress. Then I rethink that. “And if Arabella shows up poolside in a string bikini with a cocktail for you, I will kick her ass!”
William roars with laughter. “I won’t tell her my swim schedule.”
I manage to laugh, but I don’t trust her not to try that maneuver.
William exhales. “I need to go.”
“I know you do.”
“Let’s try to Video Connect daily,” William says. “I’ll text you times that might work.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling my throat grow a little tight.
“I miss you,” William says again.
“I miss you, too,” I say back to him. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Good evening, Mary-Kate,” William says. “Sweet dreams.”
“Bye, William.” And then he’s gone.
Swallowing hard, I get up out of my chair and flop down on my bed. I pick up one of my throw pillows and hold it to my chest, and as I do, I study my Tiffany bracelet.
I am so in love with this man. It is crazy. It is absurd. We have only really been together two weeks, if you start counting the time since our first kiss.
As I brush my fingers over each charm, I know it doesn’t make any sense to the outside world. Reese and Emily think I’ve lost my mind. I am risking everything for a man who doesn’t live here, for a man who has repeatedly said he doesn’t want a serious relationship, for a man who runs a global empire and has always said it comes first.
But when I look into his soulful blue eyes, they tell me everything I need to know.
William is my man.
He is my future, my world, my everything.
And I know, without a doubt, gambling on William is the right thing to do.
So with that thought in my head, I get up and begin packing some of my clothes and get ready to go to Penthouse 57 in Millennium Park.
During the next two weeks, my world is crazy busy. I am managing everything for William at the office while he’s out. I’m blogging all the time, and redecorating his penthouse. I also wrote two articles for the Beautiful Homes Network website, which were so well received they put me on the calendar as a regular contributor!
It is so strange how things turn out,
I think as I run some copies of talent contracts for William to sign upon his return. I have spent all my college years, my internships, the past two years in the working world with one agenda in mind—lining myself up for a career in television programming.
But I had no idea I’d enjoy writing for a website so much, or become so passionate about blogging.
My blog has totally taken off thanks to Rupert and Claire spreading the word among their friends. I now have more than one hundred subscribers! Totally crazy. My brain is so full of ideas for it, too. I’m always jotting down notes in a notebook and taking pictures and I feel truly engaged and inspired with what I am doing.
And writing brings me so much joy I am wondering if maybe that is the direction I should pursue, despite my lifelong dream of working in television programming.
I finish the copies and gather them up into my arms. My heart jumps inside my chest. William is leaving Sydney tonight. He is coming home! God, it has been too long since I have touched him, too long since I’ve kissed that perfect mouth of his. I never thought it was possible to miss anyone as much as I have missed William these past two weeks.
I head back down the hallway, toward my cubicle. I also cannot wait to show him the penthouse. I’ve painted. I’ve found accessories, like antique books about poetry and geography, which I know are some of his passions. I’ve had a new sofa and coffee table delivered. And I have some surprises, too, ones that I hope he loves as much as I do for his penthouse.
William’s penthouse
. I have stayed there the past two weeks, ever since that first night he said I could stay there. I’ve slept in his bed—not an easy feat the first few nights—but then it just became home to me. Penthouse 57 just feels like where I should be.
Where I am meant to be
.
I reach his office and I pause outside his office door. Just knowing he’s not there makes my chest tighten with sadness.
Suddenly, I hear my cell phone go off. I walk over to my desk, put the copies down, and see that it is Michelle calling.
“Hello?” I answer as I go to sit in my chair. Except I miss and all of the sudden, I fall the floor with a loud crash and bang my arm on the desktop on the way down. “Ouch!” I yell into the phone.
“MK? Good lord, what was
that
?” Michelle asks.
“Nothing!” I say, scrambling back into my chair. I turn over my shoulder—thank God nobody saw that—and sit down. “What’s up?”
“You know, MK, I know my wedding is not your highest priority,” Michelle snaps, “But you can at least respond to my emails asking for your opinion. It is so rude for you to ignore me like this!”
I bite my tongue. I responded to her list of emails, Connectivity notes, Pinterest pins, and Tweets on Monday. It is now Friday.
“Michelle,” I say calmly, “I have responded to many of them earlier this week, and there were a lot of them to—”
“That is because you do not answer in a timely fashion!” Michelle roars.
I command myself
. Do not scream. Do not scream. Do not scream at her like you want to.
“Michelle, at first I was busy in London,” I say evenly. “I was there for work.”
“Oh my God, will you stop it already about work and London? I know you don’t understand the concept of
love
, MK, but for some of us that is all that matters!”
I ignore that comment, thinking how ironic she chooses to throw that in my face when for the first time in my life, I am completely in love.
“Michelle, I have been in London. My boss is in Australia and I have a lot of work to do for him here. I have articles that need to be submitted for the Beautiful Homes Network.”
“And you don’t have two seconds to respond to a message?”
Breathe. Don’t rip her head off. Don’t do it.
“Michelle—”
“I mean, it’s not like you have a
boyfriend
that would take up your spare time, MK!”
Okay rip her head off. Now.
“That,” I snap, “is the dumbest thing you have ever said. Like I can only be busy if I have a boyfriend? And that my not responding to an email is only acceptable if I have one? That is so insulting I don’t even know what to say.”
Michelle snorts. “Like you would ever have one. You are too busy with your so-called career to have anything else!”
Ooooooh
! I am so beyond pissed at Bridezilla right now I can barely breathe.
But then William flashes through my head.
Act like William doing business
.
Go cold and icy and to the point.
“Michelle,” I say, my voice low, “I have a career. You are calling me during business hours. I will respond to your pressing emails this evening when I have time to think about them. Now I am terminating this call until you can talk respectfully to me.”
And then I hang up the call, access my inbox from my iPhone, and find five emails from Michelle, all sent this morning.
CUSTOM “BRIDE” DRESS HANGER
ETSY BRIDE HANGER-WHICH ONE
ROBE THAT SAYS BRIDE
ARE YOU THERE??????
URGENT ROBE AND HANGERS
Oh my God. She went off on me because I didn’t respond to her emails regarding a hanger and a robe for a wedding that is almost nine months away?
My phone rings and I am jolted out of my fury. Because I made “London Calling” by The Clash William’s ringtone, and right now the song is playing from my iPhone.
Which means William is on the phone!
I grab it and answer, shocked to see he is calling.
“William?” I ask.
“Mary-Kate,” his familiar baritone says, making my heart leap with joy, “I decided it would be most appropriate to leave Sydney sooner rather than later. I am in Dallas right now, waiting to connect to get back to Chicago.”
Which means he is going to be home in hours!