Have you ever trusted someone you didn't know? Following them when you should have just walked away? I felt like Alice, walking into Wonderland, chasing after a rabbitâ if my hot ex-boss was said rabbit and a mysterious lobby inside a large warehouse was Wonderland.
The warehouse door opened onto a small waiting room with cozy, dim lighting from green sconces lined across black walls. A woman stood behind a small silver reception desk, wearing a 1920s black dress, her hair in a short bob.
I felt a small thrill shoot through me at seeing someone else with my sense of style. It felt like finding a kindred spirit. Where was I, and how did I start working here instead?
The woman glanced up, offering Laurence a nod of recognition, gesturing towards a second door. He had clearly been here before. "The room is yours," she said.
Laurence offered her an appreciative glance before moving toward the door, holding it open for me. I froze in the doorway, my eyes wide. "What is this place?" I breathed, eyes going wide.
"A place that won't spark an argument out of me," Laurence said behind me, his breath tickling my neck. I was surprised by how close he was until I realized I was in the doorway, blocking the way in.
I turned and found Laurence soaking in the place, looking more relaxed than I had ever seen him. "My home away from home." He scanned the room, the stress melting off of him, replaced by a calm I had never seen. A sense of peace. He looked down at me, brow raised in question, waiting to see what I thought.
His face was close to mine, dark eyes drinking in my expression. I couldn't lie. It was like he had designed a place just for me. It was perfect and I hated that he viewed this place as a home away from home. It was like he had confessed to being attracted to someone just like me, if onlyâ
It took a physical effort to turn back around and step to the side, making room for him to lead the way. "It's... incredible," I said to the room.
The music was familiar, the clothes more of what I loved, and the style was perfection. In short, Laurence Royal had brought me to an underground 1920s speakeasy.
A small bar stood at the far end of the warehouse, with a small stage to the right, where a 1920's swing band was playing, the music upbeat. People dressed in all types of 1920's outfits sat at small table and booths sprinkled throughout the warehouse turned speakeasy soaking in the music, hands cupping drinks, murmuring over small table lamps.
Instead, of walking past me, he leaned against the door frame. "Found this place a week after Allie took over my company," he said. "It kept my sanity in tact."
Before I could reply, Laurence walked deeper into the cozy speakeasy, to a bookcase along one wall. Pulling on a book, the book case slid minutely to the side and he ducked past it and disappeared through a hidden side door.
And like a habit that seemed impossible to break, I followed. I left the room that felt like a slice of heaven I had fallen into. But I was too curious to stop myself. Who didn't want to see what was hidden behind a bookcase? I hadn't even known this place had existed five minutes ago, and the idea that there was more sent another thrill through me.
Ducking into the hidden room, I let out an audible gasp, eyes wide, unable to hide my surprise. A hidden library sat nestled into a small room, taking up three of the four walls. Two cozy arm chairs sat in the center of the room, a small coffee table in between them, with end tables next to each chair, sporting small table lamps, sending the room into a warm orange sheen. A green rug sat along the ground, a set of golden thread woven throughout, making the ground look like it was glistening with gold. A fireplace was nestled against the far wall underneath the bookshelves, making it one of the coziest places I had ever been in.
Laurence walked over to the coffee table, and sat down on one of the cozy leather arm chairs like, leaning his head back against the chair, his eyes fluttering closed for a beat. I blushed, momentarily transfixed by the sight of him in what was obviously meant to be a private moment.
I continued to stand in the doorway, suddenly suspicious. What were the odds that his favorite place in the whole world felt like it would be mine? Was this a real, or a twisted power play he felt he needed to do after months of working with Allie, the queen of power plays.
Is Laurence Royal capable of manipulation like that? Or is Allie just screwing with both of us?
I closed my eyes for a beat, hating and loving this outing. Hating that I didn't know what to make of it. Hating that I couldn't fully trust it.
"What..." I stuttered, mind blank. "How many more secret rooms within rooms are there?"
Laurence finally opened his eyes and removed his suit jacket, placing it on the arm of his chair.
"We won't be bothered in here," he said, like sitting in a secret room behind a book case inside of a secret 1920s speakeasy was a completely normal place to go to for financial negotiations.
"Laurence... what is this place?" I asked, still standing in the doorway.
"A room to conduct business meetings."
I glanced back over my shoulder, past the bookcase, toward the warehouse where another swing song had begun to play. "Noooo. We are in a speakeasy. A place where people come to drink and forget about work. Not to work."
"This room is different," Laurence Royal said, gesturing to the chair across from him. "If you decide to sit down and trust me, then I'll show you."
After another pause, I finally sat down, the leather soft, making me melt into the chair, like butter on the sidewalk. I felt the stress of the day melt off of my body like a second skin. I wanted to steal the chair. I wanted to live in the chair. I wanted the chair to be my forever place.
My feelings for the chair must have been obvious because I could see the satisfaction on Laurence Royal's face as he took in my expression. Then he reached toward a decorative globe next to his chair and turned the top half until there was a small pop. "I put together a budget last week that should keep most of what Allie wants for the shoot, but cuts out the exorbitant aspects."
The globe opened up to reveal a set of paper, pens and a projector. The projector hummed to life as Laurence inserted a flash drive, projecting a large table of numbers against the door.
The spread sheet was detailed, color coded, and had Laurence's immaculate eye for numbers. And for a fellow organization nerd it was incredibly sexy.
Reaching below the coffee table, Laurence Royal pulled out a small tray with coffee mugs, creamer, spoons and sugar. "Take a moment to look at the numbers."
He stood up and tugged on a small golden book sitting on one of the book shelves, causing the bookshelf to split in half, displaying a espresso machine.
"Coffee?" he asked.
Blinking at the continuous set of surprises, I found my voice. "Um... yes."
Holy bacon pancakes... this room is magic.
The machine hummed loudly, the coffee steam making the room warm. I kept getting distracted by Laurence Royal's focused expression, the way his hands carefully used the milk frother, how he rolled up the sleeves of his button up shirt to keep them clean, showcasing the prominent veins in his forearmsâ
I yanked my eyes away, staring at the numbers. Getting lost in the details for a moment. He had laid out a plan, not as exorbitant as Allie's desire to have a photo shoot in Greece. But the budget he suggested could give us a healthy budget for somewhere else. I began to think through other options.
Costa Rica? Hawaii? Bali? Belize? Could any of those work with a smaller budget? Do I still try for Greece? Can I push him on this? Should I? What do I do?
Laurence sat down in front of me and poured a generous helping of creamer into one of the mugs before pushing it across the table toward me.
It felt like dropping into the Twilight Zone. Laurence Royal had made me a cup of coffee. Something that I had been doing for him for years. It felt like a monumental moment. A baton being passed.
He quietly watched me pick up the cup of coffee. "Let me know if I got your creamer amount correct."
"This is weird," I said looking from my coffee up to Laurence's face. "How did you know?" The coffee was perfect, a light brown. So sweet that you couldn't taste a hint of coffee. Just the way I liked it.
Laurence Royal sipped his own cup of coffee before answering. "You've known me for three years Miss Autumns. In that time you've watched my life and work erupt into flames. You know far more about my family than anyone should, and that has created a strange power imbalance."
His eyes were dark, assessing as he took me in over the rim of his mug. "You know my ticks, my weaknesses, my strengths. Everything down to how I take my coffee." He looked from me, down to my coffee, eyes slowly moving back up to me. "It's foolish to assume that observations have gone one way."
I suppressed a shiver under that dark gaze. I had been looking at him for years and had never been on the receiving end of that expression. A look I couldn't quite place. It was assessing, full of a feeling I couldn't place. It sent warning bells off in my head. It felt dangerous and made me nervous.
I hadn't realized that although he hadn't been looking at me the same way that I looked at him, he had been taking me in too.
Placing the mug on the table, I watched the dark expression leave Laurence Royal's face as he seemed to settle into a decision. "I won't play games with you. I won't use what I've learned about you for the last three years to push negotiations in my favor. All I ask in return is that you won't play games with me."
He adjusted the cuffs of his rolled up sleeves, the action bringing my attention his forearms for a beat. "We do this without the influence of Allie's games. We are a team. We need to strive to be on the same page."
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers moving to go through his hair before he forced them back down. "You are the COO now. You get to decide how to tackle your job. Who you want to be in that role. How you want to be perceived."
When I remained quiet, processing his words, he looked up at me. "So I would like to start over. This room is a show of good faith. I am showing you a place that I deeply care about. I am trusting you with it, hoping it can serve as a clean slate."
I was thrown. Surprised by how open he was being. Laurence Royal was right. I could read him. He could read me. And everything about him, the room, the gesture, was sincere. I finally understood why my play at forcing him into that conference room had backfired so terribly.
Tilting my head to the side, I stared at him for a moment. "You are not what I expected," I finally admitted.
My words surprised him. "You've known me for three years."
I shook my head. "Not this. This is new. You've been fighting for breath every day in that office since I've known you. It's nice to see you just..."
"Breathe?" he guessed, a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.
"Something like that. Even before Royal Fashion became Royal Winters, you've always been scrambling to stay afloat."
"Thanks," he said dryly.
I blushed. "I just mean that you never stop moving. Working. Thinking. I don't think I've ever seen you sit in a chair. At least not like you are sitting now."
He raised a brow. "I sit weird?"
"Never mind," I replied, growing more embarrassed. "Yes to the starting over thing." I looked back up at his numbers. "But I am going to have to push you on a few of the items up there. I'm not going to let the CFO walk all over me."
I heard the smile in his deep voice. "Okay, Miss Autumns. Show me what you got."
...
Negotiating with Laurence Royal was a type of banter that felt better than flirting. It was a clash of wits. A negotiation of numbers that forced you to think strategically. A battle ground of clever planning and on the spot flexibility. In short, I had far more fun arguing with him than I had ever had doing anything with Liam.
And maybe that had been part of the problem with our relationship. If doing something fun with Liam wasn't all that fun, then it was no wonder that the man had thought I was boring.
Laurence Royal seemed to spark the challenger in me. A girl who had been dormant for a long time. He didn't view me as lesser, taking my job change without missing a beat, seeming relieved to have someone new to spar with who didn't throw his ideas back in his face and storm out whenever she didn't get what she wanted.
In short. It was fun, and it left me itching for another budget meeting to sink my teeth into. Another set of numbers to fight over. Another excuse to dive into a secret room and get lost in negotiations. The entire experience left me buzzing with energy, passionate and excited to be fighting for something that I found great value in.
We walked back into the office building, me with a healthy budget, and Laurence looking far less like a man who wanted to rip someone's head off after being forced into a room to be pushed and prodded at.
"Allie will like this plan," Laurence said as we moved into the elevator.
"She'll hate that you like it," I replied, fighting a laugh.
"Not if you tell her I hate it," he said as the doors closed.
"I am a terrible liar," I muttered, adjusting the strap of my purse, frustrated at how poor my poker face was.
Laurence Royal leaned against the side of the wall, amusement chording his tone. "I know. You wear every feeling right on your face." I looked away.
I hope not everything is written on my face. Please let my infatuation with this man be the ONE thing he misses.
"Yeah, it took me a while to learn how to get rid of all of your admirers who kept calling the office without accidentally insulting them in the process. I wasn't very good at it."
Post Allie, Laurence went through a stage where he had gone on a date every single night, and the next day, the girl would call the office, demanding to talk to him, or demanding to be added to his schedule for another date. He hadn't actually been interested in a second date with any of them, he just wanted to stay distracted and I wasn't very good at giving excuses on the phone. Even my tone struggled to lie.
It had taken several tries to learn how to put them off without being yelled at, and after Laurence had seen me get screamed at on one particular call, my eyes brimming with tears, not a single one of his following dates called the office again. Either he was done with the constant dating, or he had stopped giving out his information.
Either way, I was grateful to be done with the phone tag of terror. It was more than irritating, it was difficult to deal with the potential heart break of so many women while nursing my own crush.
Because even when Laurence was going out excessively, it was clear that he was just trying to cope with the loss of his company, the betrayal of his family, with Allie's rejectionâ distracting himself enough so he could get through each day somewhat intact. I had watched his heart bleed excessively, unable to do anything but field phone calls and keep girls away.
"I'm sorry," Laurence said softly, pulling me out of the memory of juggling phone calls and getting home each night, wanting to pull out my hair from the frustration of being so useless to someone who needed to be loved so deeply.
"You shouldn't have had to deal with that... With that version of me."
I refused to look up at him. I didn't want to see his pity. I wanted to stay back in that cozy room inside that speakeasy. I wanted to pretend that my life was just budget negotiations in that cozy chair without the baggage that lay around it.
"Allie will like the plan," I said, as the elevator opened.
"Miss Autumnsâ" Laurence Royal said, clearly not done, but was suddenly interrupted by someone waiting on the other side of the elevator.
"The famous Lily Autumns has returned!" Dash said by way of greeting, his warm smile enveloping the room. "Tell me, how often do you stop traffic by the mere sight of your beauty?"
I laughed, startled by the fast flattery. "Look in the mirror Dash. I'm sure you stop traffic enough for the both of us."
"My dear sweet work wife. No need to flatter my ego," Dash said.
"Who said that stopping traffic was due to beauty?" I asked, settling back down at my desk.
"You wound me work wife!"
"Still haven't accepted your proposal, Dash. But valiant effort. With enough flattery, you'll win me over eventually." It took me a moment to realize that Laurence had stopped too, looking at me, as if hesitant to leave the conversation where we had ended it.
"I'll give the budget to Allie," I said by way of promise, falling back into business mode. "No sense in you getting into another yelling match with her."
"Boss yells?" Dash asked, eyes wide in surprise.
My smile stretched wider as I turned back to Dash. "Not so much yells as gets angry eyed," I replied before looking back up at Laurence Royal. "I've got it."
Laurence looked back over at Dash for a beat, and then walked away, seeming to visibly shudder as Dash called out after him. "BYE BOSS!"
Once Laurence was out of earshot, I turned back to Dash. "I can't believe he hired you."
Dash gasped in mock hurt. "What? Why? I'm obviously perfect."
"And he's the most professional man I know. How did you make it through your interview without being thrown out?"
Dash's brow furrowed. "He didn't interview me."
I raised a brow. "You you just showed up and sat down?"
"Kinda." When I continued to stare at him doubtfully, he hurried on. "No. I'm serious. He called a temp agency and asked them to send someone over. He said 'send whoever you want. No one will be able to live up to my last assistant.'"
My face flushed red. "You're lying."
Dash looked truly surprised by my hard tone. "What? No."
"He wouldn't say that. You're messing with me."
Dash gestured towards Laurence's office. "Go ask him."
Something twisted inside of me. Good and messy. And bad and messy. A bundle of feelings warped by memories and wants and frustrations. Did I want to know how much or how little I meant? Did it matter if it was just a work relationship?
I shook my head. "No need. You're obviously lying."
Dash rolled his eyes. "Believe what you want. He obviously misses you. I keep making his coffee wrong."
Glancing back toward Laurence Royal's office, I took in the exact moment that Laurence took a sip of a coffee that Dash had left on his desk, and spat it all over his desk with pure disgust, ruining dozens of sheets of paperwork.
Dash looked momentarily worried about being fired. "I take it Boss Man doesn't like five packs of sugar and three creams in his coffee?"
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Thank you for reading chapter eight! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
What does Laurence think of Dash?
Will Dash get fired?
What will Allie think of Dash?
What will Allie think of Lily's budget?
What item on Allie's to do list will Lily have to tackle next? Go on a date? If so, who will she go on a date with?
What will happen next?
CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever become instant friends with someone you worked with or went to school with?