Chapter 15 I was in over my head. That was nothing new, but the difference this time? I wasn't alone, flailing to bail myself out. Today, I had an assistant. Things were under control. Sort of. Scarlet was a fast learner, but she asked a ton of questions. When she wasn't asking questions about work, she was not so subtly prying about my personal life. It was cute. Almost. Mostly, it was distracting. "What kind of event are you going to again?" she asked. I leaned over her to check the shape of her prosciutto roses. She had a knack for making them in a snap. And since they were nearly better than mine, she was permanently on rose duty. "It's a charity luncheon." I'd been hired to make charcuterie cups and a dessert table for the event. Scarlet and I were assembling the cups, which was a massive help, since I normally did this all on my own. When I arrived at the space later, I only had to do the dessert table, and that wasn't a big deal. Scarlet reached for another piece of prosciutto. "Yeah, but what charity?" "I don't remember, honestly." She narrowed her eyes at me. "What if it's a killing-puppies charity?" I put my hands on my hips. "First of all, I'm wondering if I should be concerned your mind went to such a dark place. Second, I always do a search on the organization or company before I accept a gig. It's just, once I agree to the job, I don't retain the information. I have too many other things going on." "Have you ever turned anyone down?" "Sure, a few times. But my headshot is on my website. Most of the organizations I would have moral objections to wouldn't bother trying to hire a woman with blue hair and a nose piercing." I winked at her. "It keeps the riffraff away." She glanced up at the silky black strand escaping her ponytail. "Should I go blue too? Keeping the riffraff away sounds good." "Sorry, but blue hair tends to have the opposite effect on teenage boys. I'm almost thirty, and I still get hit on by guys with dirtstaches." She wrinkled her nose. "Oh my god, I hate their little mustaches. Why don't they shave them? They look so stupid." I laughed. "I don't try to understand teenage boys. It's probably better not to." A big fist knocked a familiar rhythm on my front door. Scarlet jumped, surprised by the sudden sound, but I knew who it was. Ben burst in like he owned the place, and I tried to remember why I'd given him a key. "Beatrice," he called. "I'm bored." "In the kitchen, troublemaker," I hollered back. Scarlet frowned. "Who's that? Your boyfriend?" "Oh, god no," I replied. Ben strolled into the kitchen, twirling my key around his finger. "I wish I was her boyfriend. She friend-zoned me. It's depressing." He leaned his shoulder against the entryway, folding his arms across his chest. "Who might you be?" he asked Scarlet. I put my hand on her shoulder. "This is my assistant, Scarlet. She and her family are moving into the construction zone across the street. Say hi, Ben." He grinned. "Hi, Ben." I groaned. "Don't be obnoxious." Scarlet had to tilt her head way back to look Ben in the eye. "You have the same name as Bea's dog. That's kind of weird." "Ah, well...it would be, if Ben was short for Benjamin, but it's not." He tapped his chest. "Bennett Wiley Wells, at your service." She hmphed and muttered, "Still kind of weird." "Weird's cool, kid," Ben replied, unfazed. Scarlet put down her prosciutto flower. "Why do you have a key to Bea's house?" "For emergencies," I emphasized. "He abuses his key-holding privileges." "You shouldn't do that," she admonished like a stern little grandmother. "Look, I'm saving you the trouble of walking all the way to the door by unlocking it myself." He gestured at my supply-covered counters. "And I remembered you had a big job today, so I stopped by to see if you need any help." Scarlet straightened. "I'm helping her." "She is," I added. "Scarlet's amazing." I'd stopped questioning my decision to hire her, even if she could be slightly annoying. The fact of the matter was: everyone annoyed me, but Scarlet did less than most. Ben flexed his tree trunk biceps. "You're really going to turn down free manual labor, Buzz?" "Nope. I'm not." I took my gloves off and brushed by him, grabbing the leash hanging on a hook in the hallway. "Your namesake would love to go for a walk." Benjamin was a wild child, but he understood he had to make himself scarce when I was preparing for an event. As soon as I took my gear out, he showed himself upstairs. But my boy could be passed out cold, deep in dreamland, and he'd come running at the sound of his leash jingling. I tossed the leash to Ben. He'd been through this before and braced himself. Two seconds later, Benjamin launched himself down the stairs, straight into Ben's legs. Ben might've been six-and-a-half feet of pure muscle, but he was no match for the missile that was my dog. They both stumbled back, and Ben caught himself on my table, saving them from landing in a heap. "You're lucky you're cute, man," Ben grumbled as he gave my dog a vigorous rubdown and attached his leash. "I could use you on the team. You'd make a hell of a rugby player." Benjamin ruffed, agreeing he would. I had my doubts, though. He was powerful, but he was too much of a lover to get rough on the pitch. "Have fun, boys," I called as they headed out. Scarlet watched them go, dreamy-eyed. "Wow. That guy's really our neighbor?" I laughed. "He really is. Want to know something even crazier?" She nodded, eyes wide. "His identical twin lives in the house next to his." "There are two of them?" she screeched. "There sure are." Life would be a lot simpler if I were into Ben. Shira and I could be sisters-in-law, and I'd forever have someone to lift heavy objects for me. Too bad my taste skewed toward devastatingly handsome, bespeckled computer geniuses. Technically, it wasn't my fault the waiter's arm caught on fire. Sure, I probably shouldn't have said, "Prove it," when he'd claimed to be a fire breather on the side, but I didn't think he'd take it literally-especially not in the middle of a packed catering kitchen. Everything had been going fine until someone spilled oil in the path of a server carrying a tray of wineglasses. She'd slipped, and the tray flew. Luckily for her, one of the chefs caught her just in time, but the tray lost its battle with gravity, smacking the fire breather in the back of the head at the worst possible moment. His head jerked forward, and the flames followed. Right onto his highly flammable work uniform. He screamed. Everyone froze. It was by sheer luck I'd been holding a pitcher of water. Moments after I'd doused the fire, the catering manager had charged in, oblivious. "The dessert table needs to be refilled ASAP." I didn't argue. Grabbing my cart, I made a swift exit before anyone could connect me to the tiny, semi-contained inferno in the kitchen, which had only been sort of, in a small, microscopic way, my fault. My cart filled with desserts, I crossed the room, trying to ignore my jumping nerves. The space was a swirl of muted pastels, fine china, and understated elegance. I offered polite smiles as I passed clusters of guests, keeping my head down and pace steady, only to be stopped by an older woman dripping in diamonds who wanted to discuss all the ingredients in my macarons. At first, I was wary of her intentions, then she all but demanded my business card so she could hire me for her granddaughter's graduation party, and it became a lovely surprise. When she finally walked away, I let out a long breath, and that was when I saw him. At the far side of the ballroom, surrounded by four men in suits who looked like they had private jets and boardrooms to return to, stood Tore. I recognized Sam among them, and I was almost certain the silver-haired guy was the mayor. Tore was taller than all of them. Sharper too. His hands were clasped loosely in front of him, and though I was too far away to be sure, I'd bet anything he was spinning his ring as he spoke. The men were riveted, and with the mayor hanging on to Tore's every word, it struck me how powerful he was. This was a man other powerful people listened to. All the riches in the world were nice, but they didn't turn me on. This, though, seeing the respect Tore was given by men who were no doubt used to being treated with deference? This was something else entirely. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!