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  • My Best Friend's Father (A Best Friend's Series Book 3) Page 2

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  She was barely older than Sabrina.

  “Is something wrong, sir?”

  “Huh?” He looked at her again, both enjoying and hating the view. Forget Brigham; he’d have to fire her just for being too distracting. He was jerk. It wasn’t her fault she was so beautiful.

  “You’re frowning. You look…like you’re in pain.”

  Pain was the opposite of what he was feeling—until guilt settled in. He forced a smile. “I’m fine. But thank you for asking.”

  “Sir, thank you for giving me this job.” Her eyes held his, her voice full of gratitude. “It… I really needed it, and I’m so grateful that you were willing to take a chance on me. I know it’s last minute and I haven’t even interviewed, but I want you to know that I’m a hard worker, and I enjoy problem solving and working in a fast-paced, high-stress environment. I thrive in it, really.”

  He snorted. “If you survived working with Brigham for five years, I’d say you have a seriously unhealthy relationship with it, and you’d probably want to talk to someone about that.” He chuckled and then saw her frown and look away. He reached out and grazed her arm with his fingertips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  She offered a small, closed-lip smile. “None taken. That was a…difficult environment.” Her grin spread to her ears and Marshall could tell she was forcing it a bit. “When Sabrina mentioned this job, you don’t how relieved I felt.”

  “How long have you and Sabrina been friends?” That seemed like a safe subject.

  “Since grad school. We were both pursuing business degrees then.”

  “Right, right. In Denver, correct?”

  “Yes! Being originally from Springfield, I didn’t know anyone and she grew up there. She played tour guide for me on a number of occasion and even taught me how to ski.”

  Marshall smiled, picturing Sabrina on the slopes. She could out-ski him, and had done so on a number of occasions. The last time they took an advanced slope together, he almost died. Sabrina had laughed her head off—as did that tree that he had almost hit. It had laughed at him as he almost unsuccessfully avoided it.

  “Sabrina’s a great girl, and she’s really putting that business degree to work.”

  “Yes, she is. She paired it well with her bachelor’s. I’m really proud of her.”

  “And you’ve worked in business for a few years now. You must be glad to have that degree under your belt.”

  She only smiled, the light in her eyes dimming. “I’m looking forward to working here in Italy. Must be exciting for you! How long have you been based here?”

  “A year,” he said glumly.

  “Oh…I—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Are you hungry? Let’s go to lunch. Pasta? Pizza?”

  Kori’s smile returned. “Pasta. I can’t wait to eat it.”

  “Good. You’ll love it here. Everything is so different when it’s fresh and made from traditional recipes that aren’t unique to chain restaurants,” he said dryly.

  Kori laughed. A light musical sound that had Marshall’s eyes on her again. She seemed level-headed and easy to get along with. And not once had she tried to touch him. He looked away with a grunt that he half-covered up with a cough. Kori would probably be romanced by another Italian model soon enough, and then she would be pregnant and leaving him.

  Women always left. And he was too old for her anyway.

  They settled in their seats at a small family-owned restaurant, halfway up an alley about a quarter mile from the hotel. The driver took her luggage to the hotel to have it delivered to her room. Marshall hoped she would be happy in a hotel. It had all updated amenities, with top-of-the-line kitchen appliances, and a full satellite television package. Even the décor made it feel a touch more homely.

  “I happened upon this restaurant the first night I arrived,” Marshall said, after ordering their drinks in Italian. He had catch Kori’s glance of respect for his use of the language. It made him feel…worthy, for some reason.

  Kori looked around in awe. “It’s gorgeous, sir. I’m really excited to try the food.” She picked up her menu, and her eyes narrowed.

  Marshall suppressed a laugh. “You’ll learn the language in no time. And this ‘sir’ business…”

  Her eyes met his, her expression anxious. “Did I say something wrong?”

  He smiled. “Yes. It’s Marshall. My assistants don’t call me ‘sir.’ If you’re handling my laundry, then you can call me by my first name.”

  Kori leaned back. “Your laundry? You expect me to wash—”

  “Dry cleaning,” Marshall said flatly. When she closed her eyes, he laughed. “Sorry. Did you think I’d want you to wash my underwear? What year is this?”

  Kori shook her head. “I apologize, sir—Marshall!—I… It’s been a long flight.”

  His eyes smiled at her over his menu. “Sure. Blame it on the flight.”

  Did she blush? He couldn’t tell by her coloring. She did let out a breath and fanned herself briefly with the menu. He took that as a sign that she was too warm—and that he was the cause. He sat a little straighter.

  “I knew what you meant, honest.”

  Marshall fought a grin. “Have you handled dry-cleaning before?”

  “Yes,” she said in a rush. “Of course. It’s not an issue. I can get that done, no problem.”

  “I believe you.” Her gaze briefly met his, and he couldn’t help but wink. She ducked behind the menu, but not before he caught the corners of her mouth lift.

  “What’s good here? I could eat anything.”

  “Great. Their rigatoni is amazing, especially if you want to be in a coma for at least seven hours. And their Fiorentina steak made me moan so loudly people thought something was wrong with me.”

  Kori chuckled. “Then I’ll have that. Sounds incredible.”

  He kept a cheeky comment to himself, surprised that he would want to hear her vocal reaction to the steak.

  When the waiter returned, Marshall again ordered for them. “You don’t mind, do you? I’m never really sure with women.”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay. I don’t know the language beyond how to ask for directions to the hotel and bathroom.” She shrugged, a sheepish grin on her face. “That was all I could get through on my phone’s language app before I passed out on the plane. Was more tired than I thought.”

  “Mm-hmm. Wasn’t it the wine?”

  Her brows came together. “Oh, no. I rarely drink. I’ve been around enough high-powered individuals and have been invited to more than my share of their parties that I would honestly be okay to never see another drink again.” She unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap, keeping her gaze down. “It does something to people, and it’s usually not very good,” she said softly.

  Hmm. Marshall glanced at his already empty wine glass. Maybe he shouldn’t have ordered that second drink. He had one on the way to the airport, but the effects were mild and had worn off. After a year of steadily increasing his tolerance, he could comfortably have a few glasses and still maintain impressive equilibrium. He thought himself talented.

  “I see. Well, you don’t have to attend any parties if you don’t want to. I haven’t been in a party mood lately, either. But today”—he held up his wine glass for the server to fill, and then he tipped it in Kori’s direction—“is a celebration.” He took a nice large gulp.

  “What are we celebrating?”

  “You don’t think we’re drinking to you?”

  “I only have a water…”

  “You can toast with water. I’m not a wine snob.”

  She smiled, lifted her glass, and clinked it to Marshall’s.

  “But to answer your question, no. We’re celebrating a year of freedom.”

  “Freedom?” Kori took a sip, licked her lips, and set the water glass down.

  “Yes. Freedom from my ex. It’s been a whole year since we’ve divorced, and I can’t be more thrilled. I’ve truly had a fantastic year of business an
d personal growth. I highly recommend you stay single for as long as possible.”

  Kori frowned.

  “Don’t worry. Sabrina and I are obviously still on very good terms. I love her dearly. She’s the best thing that came out of that failed contract.”

  Kori cleared her throat. “Here comes the food! I can’t wait, I’m starving.” Her smile looked forced as she picked up her fork.

  Marshall kept his mouth shut. He really should’ve done that about a couple of minutes ago, but he couldn’t be the only one celebrating. That would just be…sad. He was technically already drinking alone, even if the company seemed sweet.

  He silently chastised himself. Kori was here to work, and he was her boss. Sure the boss-assistant dynamic was different than other boss-employee relationships. More…intimate. But he didn’t know her, and she certainly looked like she was not interested in knowing much more today.

  He finished off his wine, waved down a waiter, and ordered another all while ignoring Kori’s quick glances of disapproval. As long as she kept her mouth shut. That was her job.

  Other than her issues with Brigham—that is, her failed attempt to be in a more intimate relationship with him—she came highly regarded in her job. And Brigham was one of the hardest workers in his industry, being fanatical about the number of hours spent at work—as many as you could. Marshall was surprised he had time to be in a relationship and that Kori would believe otherwise.

  Well, a relationship wasn’t what Marshall was after. Not after his first year of freedom. He had told Kori the truth about enjoying every minute of it. No strings, no commitments other than the ones he made, and no expectations he couldn’t meet.

  Standards were his own.

  The remote was his own.

  Time was his own.

  Body was his own.

  No one else would own anything of his ever again. Especially not his heart.

  Chapter 3

  This was a complete mistake.

  Kori sagged against her closed hotel room door. She had just said good night to her boss—who had a suite a few floors above her. Again, she was living near her boss. Convenient, yes; uncomfortable, absolutely. It would be the very last time, she promised herself.

  Her eyes shot across the front foyer to the small pile of luggage she had brought with her. She groaned and closed her eyes. At least she didn’t have to unpack. She’d only take out what she needed for tonight, and then she’d check out in the morning. It’s just that she was really looking forward to exploring Italy, and now that wasn’t going to happen.

  Why did her bosses have to be so much trouble?

  She checked the time on her phone. Sabrina would probably be at lunch by now. She phoned, and Sabrina picked up on the first ring.

  “Whoa! I can’t believe I’m hearing from you two days in a row. When was the last time that happened?”

  Kori laughed. “Shut up. It’s been a while. Feels good, though.”

  “Sure does. How’s Italy? Are you loving the hotel? It’s amazing, isn’t it? Have you been down to the hot tub yet? You just got there, so I suggest you grab your swimsuit and just relax in the hot tub. Those jets are amazing. My dad sure knows how to pick a hotel. I could go on all day. Did he tell you which week he’ll be free this summer? He said I could come back and I haven’t heard—”

  “Rina, I’m quitting.”

  “What? How? Why? Kornelia! I can’t believe you!”

  “Your father… He’s not well.”

  Sabrina’s voice lowered. “What do you mean, not well? You think he’s sick? Is that really a reason to quit on him?”

  “I mean, I think he’s…he’s on his way to being an alcoholic if he’s not one already.”

  Sabrina made a dismissive snort over the phone. “That’s nothing. It’s Europe. They’re always drinking. Especially in Italy. You’re almost expected to drink at every meal. It’s posh, dah-ling.”

  “Um, I could smell alcohol on his breath when I met him at the airport. Then he proceeded to have four glasses of wine at lunch. Lunch, Sabrina! I was shocked he could still walk straight.”

  The line went silent. Kori proceeded to drag one of her suitcases over to the bed. She plopped it on top and unzipped the bag. She rummaged around for her toiletry bag, but tried to keep everything in its place. Packing it the first time required her having to sit on the top to zip it up. “Sabrina?”

  “Yeah…still here.”

  “Nothing to say?”

  “Just processing.”

  Sabrina was rarely silent. For as long as Kori had known her, she loved to talk about anything and everything. She majored in communications, which was absolutely the perfect choice for her being a life coach. Kori wondered why Marshall hadn’t hired his own daughter. He clearly had issues in his personal life he had to deal with.

  “Well, as you process that, he spent the majority of lunch talking about his one-year anniversary.”

  “Ah. My parents’ divorce. Now it all makes sense. My mom did a number on him, so it’s not his fault he’s drinking. Although, I figured he would’ve drank more during the marriage than out.”

  “Are you being serious right now.”

  “Like a hangover.”

  “He tried warning me off marriage. I think he’s upset his didn’t work out.”

  “Maybe. But he’s better off, believe me.”

  “Ouch.”

  “You’ve met my mother,” Sabrina said dryly. “She didn’t deserve him, and I can say that without feeling disloyal at all. He treated her like a queen. Loved her, the way he communicated with her, supported her. She took him for granted. I always told her that she was messing up a good thing and that she would lose a good man, but she didn’t want to hear it. You know how women often sabotage the best relationship they’ll probably ever have? Why would you want to trade a top-shelf item for something from the bargain bin? I don’t understand it, and I think I never will. I mean—”

  “Wait, Rina. Are you saying that…your mother cheated on him?”

  “Remember, I told you this! He found them in bed together. In bed! She brought that nasty guy over—the one who drinks and looks like he’s doped up half the time—to their house! Dad was devastated. He was planning this amazing trip to the Maldives for them, and I was supposed to keep it a secret. He had everything set up and was going to surprise her that evening. The plane was fueled and ready to go on the tarmac.”

  “I remember now.” Kori’s thumb found its way to her lips, and she forced her hand down. She blamed her father for the nasty habit. Anxiety came at a price.

  But she did vaguely recall her conversation with Sabrina about a year ago. Kori had been somewhere overseas, and Sabrina had called, extremely upset. Their conversation was cut short due to poor cell reception.

  “Yeah. You were supposed to meet me there, and your bad boss wouldn’t let you come.”

  “He was a jerk.”

  “Right? Still a jerk. A free trip to the Maldives? What was he, jealous? He’s the CEO! He could’ve gone any time.”

  “He’s a control freak.”

  “I know. You couldn’t go to the bathroom without his okay.”

  Kori sighed. She didn’t want to discuss Brigham. She’d sent a quick text to her attorney to tell her where she was and that she would be earning money to pay for the legal fees. Her attorney had said when they won the suit, the compensation would be enough to cover the attorney’s cost and not to worry. Kori wasn’t sure they would win, but she appreciated having an attorney who thought they could. Either way, she was going to keep working and paying her way so she wouldn’t lose representation.

  “I think I’m still going to leave. I had enough trouble with Brigham. I don’t want to work for another boss whose morals are so opposite my own.”

  “Give me a break, Kori. He’s obviously still grieving. Would you deny the man that?”

  “If it interferes with work…yes. And I don’t come to that conclusion lightly.”

  “Y
ou’ve worked for a maniac so long your compassion chip is missing. Or empathy chip. Whatever. Give my dad chance. He’s good at his job—obviously—and he needs someone to keep him on track. After all, he took the breakup hard, and then his last assistant ran off with some Italian model. My dad’s pretty busy with some changes at the company, and he needs a rudder. Steer him right.”

  “I’m not a babysitter.”

  “I’m not asking you to be one,” Sabrina said with annoyance. “He’s a grown man.”

  “Who needs someone to handle his dry cleaning,” Kori muttered.

  Sabrina harrumphed. “That’s part of the job, and you know it. High achievers have to delegate tasks that take them away from their goals.”

  True. Kori couldn’t argue with that. Admittedly, she was still a little embarrassed that she had inferred Marshall had wanted her to physically wash his clothes. Like, pick them up every day and throw them into the machines. There was a laundry service at this hotel. How could she have sounded so dumb?

  “Okay, okay. I’ll give him…a week.”

  “Wow. Beggars sure can be choosers,” Sabrina said sarcastically.

  “You know I’m grateful for this job, Rina. But I can’t go from one bad situation to another. After five years, I…I need a break. I need the Maldives.”

  “Well, you are closer to the Maldives. And Italy isn’t too bad. Get some vacation time while you’re over there. My dad’s pretty laid-back. He’ll let you take a few days to get acclimated. He’s not like Brigham. He’s not a taskmaster.”

  Kori blew out a breath. “Okay, okay.”

  “Okay, you’ll stay? Or okay, you’ll think about it?”

  Kori still wasn’t sure. Her head screamed to leave, but her gut told her she should stick it out. The last time she listened to her gut, she went against her deceased father’s wishes and decided to become an executive assistant. Her father had shouted she had basically resigned herself to a life of being a servant. Told her she was embarrassing herself, him, and their entire ancestral tree. He was so upset and demeaning that Kori had cried her heart out. It had been one of the most devastating moments of her life. She had never really had her father’s support—none of the Kaye sisters did—but that memory overshadowed any remotely positive one she had about her father.