Little Lost Love Letter: A Romantic Comedy Novella Page 9

  The air whooshes out of my lungs as I stare at him. This is it—he’s going to admit he read the letter.

  Or maybe he’s waiting for me to fess up.

  And I’m about to—I am. But before I can put my thoughts together, Ryland says, “Be my date this weekend, Lucy. Come to the rehearsal and the wedding. Let’s see if we can spend forty-eight hours together without killing each other.”

  He runs his thumb over the top of my knuckles—a gesture that would be casual with anyone else. But not Ryland. Every one of his moves is thought out, planned even. If he’s touching me, it’s because he very purposely means to do so.

  “As your secretary,” I ask nervously. “Or your date?”

  He leans closer in the narrow car. “My date.”

  “Now wait—let me get this straight,” I say skeptically. “You want to beta a relationship?”

  “Too fussy?” he deadpans.

  I laugh. “It’s pretty fussy.”

  Raising a brow, he says, “I could call Tara.”

  “Have fun with her. I’ll visit Oliver while you’re gone.”

  He smiles as if he’s pleased by the banter. “Think about it. We don’t have to leave until Friday morning.”

  “Where’s the wedding?” I ask, startled that it’s not here in Phoenix.

  “Sedona.”

  I’ve seen pictures of Sedona—it’s beautiful. It would be stupid to pass up the opportunity to visit.

  “Okay,” I agree, even though I’m wondering exactly what I’m getting myself into. “I’ll go with you.”

  “It’s a date,” Ryland says, sounding so smugly satisfied I almost want to turn him down.

  Then he gives me a real smile, one that’s genuine and warm, and I know that I wouldn’t give this weekend up for anything.

  “If you sneeze, you’ll fall out of your dress,” Carina says from the corner of the changing room. She holds Hayden, who fell asleep about five dresses ago.

  “You just told me to buy it!” I exclaim, tugging at the low neckline of the sapphire dress.

  “That’s why I told you to buy it.”

  Rolling my eyes, I unzip and pull the next dress from its hanger. Carina chose enough to keep me in here for an hour. The prices are beyond ridiculous, but Ryland said he’d take care of it. Apparently, the owner of the boutique is a friend of his.

  I had no idea it would be this difficult to find a dress to wear to a wedding. My goal is to blend in—after all, I’ll have to sit alone until the reception. At the same time, I want to wow Ryland.

  “Black seems a little somber when it’s almost spring.” I frown at Carina’s next choice. “What do you think?”

  “Try the gray one,” Carina says right before Hayden wakes with a start and begins to cry. She pops the pacifier back into his mouth, and he quiets almost immediately before he goes back to sleep. “It’s a good in-between color for February.”

  I step into the gray dress, slightly concerned with the slight stretch of the fabric. Carina whistles low when I turn to ask what she thinks.

  “Very bombshell.” She raises her brows. “I like it.”

  I frown at myself in the mirror. The dress molds itself to my hips in a flattering way and cuts off just above my knees. Darts at the waist accentuate my figure, the neckline is a simple scoop, and the sleeves are a nice, three-quarter length. It’s modest, and yet…

  “It’s kinda…” I press my hands to either side of my waist. “Tight?”

  “It’s not tight—it’s fitted. You look great.”

  I frown. “But is it too much?”

  “Only if you’re opposed to Ryland tripping over his own feet when he sees you.”

  Just the thought makes my stomach heat. Deciding this is the one, I say, “What heels should I wear with it?”

  “Sky-high ones.”

  “Preferably matching,” I add.

  “What?” Carina asks with a laugh that wakes Hayden once more.

  “Never mind.”

  “This guy needs to eat.” Carina rocks her son, unable to coax him back to sleep this time. “I should run. Are you just about done?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to get this one.” Then I add, “Thank you for coming.”

  “Are you serious? I’ll do just about anything to get out of the house these days.” She gives me a quick hug before she goes. “You’re going to look gorgeous. Send me pictures.”

  “I will.”

  We say our goodbyes before I change back into my clothes, and Carina escorts a wailing Hayden out of the dressing room.

  “This is pretty,” the gorgeous woman behind the counter says when I lay the dress in front of her. To make small talk, she adds, “So…you’re going to the wedding with Ryland?”

  “I am.”

  “How do you know him?” she asks.

  Even though I hate to answer, I mumble, “He’s my boss.”

  “Your boss?”

  “I’m his secretary,” I admit, having a weird urge to run from the boutique.

  “Ryland is bringing you instead of a date?” she exclaims, her eyes going wide. “I thought for sure he’d be taken by now. Is he available?”

  “I’m not sure,” I hedge. “It’s…complicated.”

  She nods, but she’s obviously making plans in her head. Ones that worry me.

  “Have a nice day.” She hands me the dress.

  I try to smile. “I’ll see you at the wedding?”

  Flashing me a sympathetic look, she says, “Sure, maybe.”

  Sure, maybe? What does that mean?

  I arrive back at the office, feeling a bit disconcerted—like maybe the woman at the boutique knows something I don’t.

  “Lucy.” Ryland steps out of his office when I reach my desk. “Can I speak with you?”

  The uneasy feeling takes root in my stomach, suddenly sprouting into full-fledged worry. I follow Ryland into his office, wondering what I could have possibly done wrong this time.

  “I just got a call from Ree.” Ryland closes the door behind us. “She left a concerning message on my voicemail.”

  “Ree?”

  “She owns the boutique I sent you to—she’s the groom’s sister.”

  “Oh.” I draw in a breath and hold it for a moment.

  Have I embarrassed him? Am I not supposed to tell people I’m his secretary? Is that a major faux-pas I didn’t know about?

  I mean, I get it. It was embarrassing admitting to the woman how we’re acquainted.

  Ryland continues, “Apparently, she heard a sad story today—one where I don’t have a date for Chad’s wedding and have no choice but to bring my secretary.”

  I begin to shake my head. “That’s not—”

  Looking slightly irked, Ryland says, “Ree graciously volunteered to take your place.”

  My stomach drops to my toes. “Oh. What are you going to do?”

  He walks forward, meeting me in the middle of the room. “I’m going to decline, obviously. Lucy, what happened?”

  “Nothing! She asked how I know you, and I told her you’re my boss. She jumped to conclusions all on her own—”

  “This weekend, you’re not my secretary.”

  Irritated by the conversation, I set my hands on my hips. “Going to fire me, are you?”

  “Lucy,” he says like I’m ridiculous.

  “Are you upset I told her who I am?” I ask, unable to stop myself. “Is it too far beneath you to date one of your employees?”

  “That’s ridiculous. Tyler married Carina, didn’t he? Do you think my family cares about that sort of thing? Have you not noticed the way my parents dote on her? They like her more than they like me.”

  “That’s…different,” I mumble, though we both know it’s exactly the same.

  Still unsure, feeling too small, I turn to leave. Before I step out the door, Ryland sets his hand on my arm, making me pause.

  “I invited you because I want to go with you,” he says quietly. “And I don’t care about your position. A
rchitect, secretary, janitor—they’re all the same to me. I think it might be bothering you, though.”

  I look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are earnest, and I know he’s telling the truth. I’ve worked with Ryland long enough to know he believes everyone should take pride in their work, no matter what it might be, and do it as well as they are able.

  He holds everyone to the same nearly unreachable expectations.

  And oddly, I think it’s one of the things I admire about him. They say there’s a fine line between love and hate, but I never thought it could go the other way. All the things that drive me crazy, that made me want to vent in my letter, draw me to him. They make me want to do more—try harder, do a better job.

  They’re the reason I like him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks me quietly, his tone intimate—like we’re close. Like I’m important to him.

  “I just had a rather uncomfortable revelation.”

  “What was it?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t tell you, or your head will grow three sizes, and we both know it’s large enough.”

  A quick grin crosses his face. “That sounds like a good revelation.”

  Deciding it’s time to change the subject, I say, “Thank you for the dress.”

  “Did you find one you like?”

  “I did.”

  Stepping in closer, his hand flirts with mine. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  I glance out the window at the junior architects sitting at their desks. There are too many people, too many eyes. I give Ryland a smile, sternly telling myself it’s not safe to linger, and then I turn to leave. “I should get back to work.”

  “Yes, please do,” he says. “I need you to call Ree back and decline her offer.”

  I open my mouth to flay him, but he cuts me off with a smirk.

  “It was a joke,” he says.

  “Only because I didn’t agree.” I poke a finger at his chest. “You have a strange aversion to the phone.”

  “More like an aversion to people.” He meets my eyes. “Except you. I like you.”

  My scowl morphs into a smile—how could it not?

  I turn on my heel to leave. “I’m still not calling her back for you. You’re on your own with that one, Mr. Devlin.”

  16

  Lucy

  Toad glares at me from the back of the couch. His tail twitches back and forth, further showing his irritation.

  I tuck the suitcase behind the chair, out of his direct line of sight, and promise, “I’ll be back in a few days.”

  Carina will check on him while I’m gone, so I know he’ll be fine, but I can’t help but feel a little guilty about abandoning him.

  He’s still glowering when I let Ryland inside.

  “What did you do to your cat?” Ryland asks as soon as he spots the perturbed feline.

  Like last Saturday, he’s dressed casually, wearing a deep red short-sleeve T-shirt with the Devlin logo on it. The weather has cleared up, and it’s warm today, bordering on hot.

  “Toad doesn’t like my suitcase,” I explain. “He knows it means I’m leaving.”

  Ryland attempts to pet the cat, but Toad leaps from the couch and continues his angry gargoyle impression from my bedroom door.

  “Are you ready?” Ryland asks, taking my luggage.

  I nod, suddenly nervous. I’ve never gone away with a man before. We’re staying in separate hotel rooms, but it still feels monumental—especially when that man is Ryland.

  “Bye, Toad,” I call to the cat before I shut the door and follow Ryland down the stairs to his car.

  Ryland opens the trunk and deposits my suitcase next to his. They sit there, side-by-side, looking official.

  I stare at them, feeling as if we’re on the precipice of something new.

  We’re only on the road for about five minutes before Ryland turns on the radio. “Listen to whatever you like.”

  I glance at him, unsure. “You don’t like music.”

  He smiles. “But you do.”

  Thankful to have something to fill the silence, I flip through the channels. “What type of music do you hate the least?”

  “I don’t have a preference.”

  “How can someone not know what music they like?” I shake my head at the thought. After another few seconds of searching, I say, “What about this?”

  I pause on a station playing instrumental. It’s a current song, something I know the lyrics to and can happily sing in my head. Maybe Ryland won’t find it as obnoxious as music with words.

  Ryland frowns, listening to it, and then he nods. “That’s fine.”

  “Got it—you like elevator music.”

  Rolling his eyes, he reaches to change the channel. I grab his hand, stopping him. “I was joking, and you know it. This is nice.”

  He turns his hand in mine until our palms are pressed together. He’ll have to let me go the next time he needs to shift, but for now, our hands rest on the console between us.

  It’s just holding hands—no big deal. Middle schoolers wouldn’t bat an eye.

  But, oh, it feels huge.

  His skin is just slightly rough, like maybe he hasn’t lived quite as pampered of a life as I assumed.

  “Is it strange that our first date is a weekend getaway?” I ask.

  Ryland pulls his eyes off the road briefly to look at me. “You don’t seem like the type to mind things out of order.”

  “But you do.” I smile as I steal his words.

  He chuckles. “I think we know each other well enough we can bypass the first few awkward dates.”

  But there’s still a lot I don’t know about Ryland. I don’t know his hobbies or interests—I just learned what music he doesn’t hate. And I doubt he knows all that much about me either.

  We have a two-hour drive ahead of us. Now feels as good a time as any to learn a little more.

  “There are plenty of awkward date subjects we’ve never broached,” I say. “For example, I don’t even know if you have any pets.”

  “I have two cats—Archimedes and Copernicus.”

  With names like that, they’re probably snooty things, used to eating canned cat food. Toad won’t like them…and they probably won’t like Toad.

  “Do you like dogs?” I ask.

  “I only like cats.”

  “No other animals?” I say, surprised. “What about horses or gerbils or rabbits?”

  Again, he pulls his eyes from the road. “Only cats.”

  I think about it for a moment. “Fish?”

  “Cats.”

  I smile to myself as I imagine him at my parents’ ranch, avoiding the geese that always escape their pen and end up on the front lawn. But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself again.

  “It’s your turn to ask an awkward question,” I say.

  He gives me a wry look.

  “Come on, give it a try. Something you would ask if we were on a first date.”

  “All right. How does a girl who empties her entire closet to find the right outfit before I pick her up end up going to her first day of work in mismatched shoes?”

  “That is not a first date question.”

  Ryland smiles, refusing to change it.

  I sigh. “I don’t know. I’ll have something on my mind, and then…I end up at a coffee shop in two different heels. My dad says I can be absentminded.”

  “I don’t think that’s it.”

  I shoot him a look. “All right, Mr. Devlin, what is it?”

  “You focus so fully on something, everything else falls away. You do it with work, too. It’s not a bad trait, even if it has its drawbacks.”

  “Careful, that almost sounds like a compliment.”

  Ryland laughs, and then he twines his fingers through mine.

  I don’t ask any more questions, and he doesn’t volunteer any either. The conversation drifts to work and his family, and the drive goes by surprisingly quickly.

  We arrive in Sedona early in t
he afternoon. Ryland has a few scheduled calls to make, so I wander to the café next to the hotel after we check into our rooms.

  Deciding it’s a good time to catch up on a few things I need to do as well, I open my laptop while I drink my coffee and listen to people chatter around me.

  Two women claim the table next to me, but I don’t pay them much attention until I hear Ryland’s name.

  “Chad just texted me,” the one with dark brunette hair says to her friend. “He ran into him in the lobby.”

  “Did he bring that woman with him?”

  That woman?

  “Chad didn’t say.”

  “Ree is fit to be tied that he turned her down,” the other one says. “She said his secretary isn’t even that pretty.”

  I wince, wishing I’d listened to my mother when she told me it’s never smart to eavesdrop.

  “That’s just Ree being catty. She’s had it bad for Ryland since college, and she thought this was her shot. She’ll get over it.” The woman pauses to take a sip of coffee, and then she continues, “But I can’t believe Ryland brought the woman. Chad talked to him when she first started, and Ryland claimed she was the worst secretary he’s ever had—a complete mess. How did she sink her talons into him?”

  I suck in a startled breath.

  “She’s probably a gold digger.”

  The dark-haired girl sighs. “I just hope she doesn’t make things awkward.”

  “It’ll be fine. This weekend is about you and Chad—we won’t let anything ruin it.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and she won’t come to the rehearsal.”

  I stare at my computer, feeling ill. Quickly, I gulp down the rest of my coffee and then stand. The two women offer friendly smiles as I pass them, and I do my best to return them. They don’t know who I am—how would they?

  But it still stings.

  I go back to the hotel and hide in my room. At five, right before we’re supposed to leave for the rehearsal, Ryland knocks on the door.

  Feeling like I want to die, I open it, unable to meet his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks immediately.

  “I have a headache,” I mumble. “Migraine, probably. You should go without me tonight. I’m going to lie down.”

  Ryland steps into the room and closes the door behind him. “Have you taken anything for it? I can run to the store and get you painkillers. What do you usually take?”