In Good Company: Chapter 4

I blink a few times, trying to replay Lucy’s response back in my head. I analyze every one of her words, trying to figure out if I heard her wrong. “What do you mean, no?”

She crosses her arms across her chest. “It’s a pretty easy word to understand. I mean no. Not happening. Absolutely not.”

I frown, wondering why her immediate answer to my proposition is no. She just told me that becoming a private chef for the summer is exactly what she wants.

My jaw clenches as I try to figure out how to respond. People rarely tell me no, and because of that, her immediate denial hits harder than I care to admit. “Did you not just say you’d rather be a private chef for the summer over working at Pembroke?”

She looks at the ground, making me wonder if this conversation is making her uncomfortable. Her next words are directed toward the driveway as she answers my question. “I said that, but I thought you were asking about your friend Thomas. Not about you. I can’t work for you.”

“Why?”

She lets out a nervous laugh as she buys herself more time to answer by closing the back of her Bronco and stepping even further away from me. Her wide brown eyes look at me as she shakes her head at me in disbelief. I stare right back at her, waiting for her answer. I didn’t think hiring her on as a private chef is as crazy as she’s making it out to be.

“There are tons of reasons I can’t work for you,” she finally answers. It’s another moment where I can’t get a good read on her. I can’t tell if she’s just surprised by my offer or if she’s upset by it. With anyone else, I’d be able to tell. I’d know how to proceed because I’d have a good idea of where their head’s at.

But with Lucy, it seems like I’ll have to work harder than I thought. Her immediate no comes as a surprise, one I hadn’t quite prepared for.

I run my hand over my mouth, trying not to let my frustration with the situation show. I thought she’d jump at the opportunity to work for someone somewhat familiar. She knows me—kind of—and doesn’t know Thomas or his wife at all. If given the choice, I was confident she’d choose to work for me instead.

“And what are those reasons, Lucy?” I ask, my lips pressing into a thin line. My entire body feels tight as I wait for her to answer. This isn’t going how I thought it would. I thought I’d offer her the job, she’d excitedly accept, and we’d spend the rest of our time tonight ironing out when exactly she could start.

Lucy’s mouth opens and shuts a few times, as if she didn’t expect me to ask for her reasons for saying no. “You’re Oliver’s brother.”

“So?”

“I can’t work for my ex-boyfriend’s older brother. There must be some kind of rule against that somewhere.”

I laugh, holding my tongue about telling her I don’t think Oliver would care at all. The eleven-year age gap between me and my brother made it so we were never close. Who I employ is none of his business. And even if it was his business, he still wouldn’t care.

“That’s a terrible reason.”

Her head rears back defensively. “No, it isn’t. It’s inappropriate.”

My lips twitch in amusement as I tuck my hands into my pockets. Why do I find her so interesting? With anyone else, I wouldn’t waste my breath trying to convince them to work for me. Matter of fact, anyone else would jump at the opportunity to work for me in any capacity. I don’t need to be wasting my time with someone who clearly isn’t interested.

Yet here I am, determined to get her to change her mind. She’s told me no, which has backfired because now I’ll do just about anything to get her to say yes. “I wasn’t aware that asking you to prepare meals for me was inappropriate.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean, Callahan. It doesn’t feel right.”

If it didn’t feel right, I wouldn’t be so insistent on convincing her to work for me. Unfortunately for me, the moment Thomas asked her to be his private chef for the summer, I wanted her to work for me instead. If she was going to be anyone’s private chef this summer, she was going to be mine.

I wish I could explain why I feel this way, but I can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating because this never happens. It’s a foreign thing to me. I hold my tongue from admitting to her that to me…it does feel right.

What doesn’t feel right is having her call me by my full name. It feels too formal…too impersonal.

“Call me Cal.”

She tucks a piece of her dark hair behind her ear. “You said at dinner to call you Callahan.”

“I didn’t say that to you. You can call me Cal.”

It’s taken forever, but I finally get a smile out of her. Her shoulders relax a little as she slowly lets out a deep breath. “It feels more professional to call you Callahan.”

I rub my lips together to hide my own smile. “And why would things have to be professional if you aren’t accepting my offer? Seriously. Call me Cal. Please.”

She raises a dark eyebrow. “How’d that word roll off your tongue? Did it feel weird?”

I cock my head to the side, eyes roaming over her soft features. “Did what feel weird? My name?”

She laughs, and for some reason, I love the sound of it. Strands of her hair fall into her face as she shakes her head. “No. Please. You don’t strike me as the kind of man who uses the word a lot.”

I place my hand on my chest, feigning hurt. “Lucy, are you saying I don’t have manners?”

She takes a step forward as she rolls her eyes. “Are you saying you do have manners?”

I’m quiet for a few heartbeats as I just stare at her. People don’t take me by surprise often, yet here she is, continually saying things I don’t expect. “I’m a little disappointed you think so low of me, Lucy,” I begin, taking a step toward her.

I halfway expect her to match my step with her own step back, but she doesn’t. She stays where she’s at, allowing me to bring our bodies closer. Her eyes dart to the space between us before meeting mine again. I don’t know why, but I’m drawn to her. I want to get as close to her as possible to talk without infringing on her personal space.

She lets out a sigh of resignation. “I don’t think low of you. It’s just that you give off this vibe that you don’t have to have manners. People just do what you want before you even have to think of being polite.”

Her words hang in the air for a moment as I stay quiet, too busy trying to figure her out. She clearly thinks she’s got me figured out perfectly, and it bothers me that the more I stand here and talk to her, it seems the less I have her figured out.

“Plus, it’s obvious you don’t care what people think of you. Don’t try to pretend that even if I thought low of you, which I don’t, you’d even bat an eye.”

I play with the clasp of my watch, my eyes narrowed on her. Do I admit to her that she’s right? I don’t typically worry about what other people think of me, but tonight, with her, for some reason, I care. “Seems like you don’t have me completely figured out. I do care about what you think.”

Her nose scrunches as she looks at me in disbelief. “Why?”

I laugh, the sound of it vibrating my chest. “I keep asking myself the same thing.”

A breeze dances between us as we stare at one another, neither one of us saying anything. Seeing her again tonight was a surprise but a welcome one. I can’t explain why I want her to work for me so badly other than she’s a phenomenal chef…and I’m intrigued by her.

There’s something about her that makes me want to know more. What else will she call me out for? What witty remarks will come out of her mouth?

No one tells me no. The wealth and allure of my name get me anything I want. Yet Lucy seems to want nothing to do with me.

My determination to get her to agree to the job offer might also have something to do with the fact that I’ve been reunited with her again. For an inexplicable reason, I’m interested to know what the last five years have been like for her.

“Give me your phone.” I reach my hand out.

She stares at my open hand. “Don’t you have a phone?”

I shift on my feet as I try to stifle an annoyed sigh. “Obviously, I have a phone. I want yours.”

“Why do you need mine if you have one?”

“So I can put my number in it.”

“I dated your brother. You shouldn’t be asking for my number.”

I smirk. “I’m not asking you for your number. I’m giving you mine. I’ll pay double whatever Thomas and Rina offer you. Once you think about it a little longer, you’ll realize you’d be stupid to not take mine.” I wiggle my fingers to remind her I need her phone.

She lets out a dramatic sigh, but she does pull out her phone and unlock it before placing it in my hand. She keeps hers on top of it for a moment, our fingertips just barely brushing.

I move first, shocked by the electricity I feel at the small connection of our skin. I pull my hand back and pull up her contacts. “Good girl,” I whisper, the words taking me by surprise. Luckily, it seems like the praise came out low enough that she didn’t hear me.

She’s quiet as she waits for me to type my number in. I hand it back to her when I’m done, holding it in the air between us with my thumb and pointer finger. She takes it and tucks it into her pocket, her eyes never leaving mine.

“It was nice to see you tonight, Lucy,” I tell her, tucking my hands in my pockets. I step away from her car, allowing her room to go to the driver’s side.

“Goodnight, Callahan.”

I click my tongue. “What’d I say about calling me that?”

“You told me you prefer Cal. Doesn’t mean I have to listen.”

I shake my head, unable to hide the blooming smile on my lips. “I really hope you change your mind about the job offer, Lucy.” I resist the urge to tell her she will be changing her mind about it. I’ll make sure of it.

Any hope I have that she’ll make it easy on me and change her mind tonight leaves me when she gives me a polite smile and whispers, “Goodnight, Cal.”

I stand in place, watching her get in the Bronco and drive away, wanting to make sure she makes it out of the driveway safely. I don’t move until after her headlights disappear down the road.

As I walk to my car, I hope that it’s only a matter of time until I hear from her again.

If I don’t, I’m not afraid of taking matters into my own hands.