Tied Together (The Cade Siblings Duology #1)

31. Alex

CHAPTER 31

Alex

I smell strawberries and vanilla before she even enters the kitchen. I turn so my back is facing the entrance, wanting to give the illusion that I’m not at all affected by her, even though I absolutely am. It’s like my body has been made aware of her and now we’re connected by some invisible string. It tugs me towards her and I can feel when she’s near, sense when she’s around.

Last night was so perfect. It was everything I wanted it to be and the way her eyes sparkled when I brought out the cookies and cocoa will be burned into my memory forever. If that’s how she reacts, I’ll bake her cookies and make hot cocoa every day for the rest of her life.

“Morning,” she murmurs as she enters the room. Her bare feet shuffle across the floor and she steps up next to me at the counter top to grab a mug. I reach out to stop her, instead placing a hot latte in her hands.

“Thanks.” She looks up at me through her thick lashes and smiles.

I give her a small nod and walk over to the bar, pulling out a chair for her. The plate of eggs, bacon, and toast is placed on the table with another setting right next to it.

She walks over and sits down, sipping her latte and humming in approval before she sets it down and picks up her fork.

“You didn’t have to make breakfast.”

“You already said that,” I tease.

“Well I just don’t want you thinking I expect you to cook for me every morning that we’re here. I can always eat a granola bar or something.”

I know she tends to forget to eat when she’s stressed. After a year of observing her during tight deadlines and stressful meetings with higher ups, I’ve seen her skip a meal or three. She doesn’t need to know it, but I will be making sure she is properly fed—my protective instincts are taking over and I don’t plan on reining them in.

“I’m counting on you paying me back with those Christmas morning cinnamon rolls.”

She gives me an apprehensive smile and picks up her fork. As we start eating, the room grows awkwardly quiet. I wondered how much of last night she would remember, and it’s seeming like she’s remembered a good bit if she’s this awkward now.

“Look I’m sorry I asked?—”

“This doesn’t have to be awkward?—”

We both start at the same time, then pause for a second before we start laughing.

“It’s really fine, Alana. No need to discuss it, really.”

“Okay, fine. Onto other big topics then. How nervous are you for today on a scale from one to ten? Because right now I am at about a nine.”

“Ah, I’m a cool three.”

“A three? Well that’s just unfair. Men always have it easier.”

“I’m just kidding. I’m probably around a six, but I’m pretty sure we have nothing to worry about. At least for today, we will just be learning the ropes and getting to know the current staff.”

“Cheers to that,” she says and holds her mug in the air. I tap it with mine and we both take a sip, peering at each other over the rim of our respective mugs.

“Have you heard from he who shall not be named again?” I ask as we eat.

“No, thankfully. I’m hoping your phone call keeps him away.”

“Me too, but you’ll let me know if you hear anything else, right?”

“Yep.”

I drop the subject and move on to better topics.

“You and Charlie like doing all of these traditions every year, but I imagine that’s pretty tough with his NHL schedule.”

“Yeah it totally can be. Usually we just work around his schedule and plan things for when he’s home. I wish I could go to more of his away games, but it is what it is.”

“Is he usually home on Christmas Day? I don’t know much about the NHL.”

“He is. They don’t schedule games on Christmas, thankfully. We need to get you to a game when we get back.”

“I would love that.”

My phone buzzes—it’s Marco letting me know he’s here to take us to the office.

“Ready? Marco is downstairs.”

“Sure, let me just put my shoes on and we can head out.”

Alana is wearing a tan turtleneck tucked into a black skirt that rests a few inches above her knees. She’s got on black sheer tights underneath and is zipping up a pair of knee high black boots. She looks sophisticated and sexy all at the same time, and it’s torture.

Not only are we not there, yet, but we have a job to do. That’s the whole reason why we came here and I need to remember that. Getting distracted and doing a less than stellar job would disappoint Heather, and Alana and I respect her too much to let that happen.

We walk to the foyer and she pulls on a long tan coat that matches the shade of her turtleneck. I pull mine on, too, and open the door for her.

We step into the lift and I get distracted when she reaches into her purse and pulls out a pink tube of lip gloss. She squeezes a bit out, swiping it over her lips, and I feel like I can’t breathe. The gentle back and forth motion puts me into a trance and I desperately want to lean in and kiss her.

The ding of the lift arriving at the bottom floor saves me from myself, and I reluctantly pull my gaze away from her. We head out the door of the building and Marco ushers us into the back seat of the town car.

The heater has been on, so it’s toasty inside but not so warm that I need to remove my coat. The drive to the office is short, only about five minutes, so I buckle up quickly and we are on our way. We haven’t actually visited the office yet, so I am shocked when we pull up to a small building. It’s a cream color with four different pastel colored doorways lining the front.

“It’s that one there,” Marco says as he nods his head towards the pistachio green door on the left. “They’re expecting you.”

Alana takes a deep breath next to me and squares her shoulders. I can visibly see her gearing up to exit the car and face our new project for the next few weeks. I sit quietly, waiting for her to be ready. Finally, she reaches out to grab the door handle, but I place my hand on her wrist to stop her.

“Don’t. I’ll get it. You ready?”

“Why do you insist on getting my door every time?”

It’s apparent every time I try to do something nice for her, that Brad didn’t give her the attention and care that she needed, but I’m determined to show her what a real man taking care of his girl looks like.

“Because if I’m around there’s no need for you to get your own door.”

She doesn’t respond, so I get out and round the car to her side, opening the door and holding out a hand for her. She takes it and I watch as she steps out and smooths down her skirt.

“You look stunning.”

“Well you’re not so bad yourself, Ashford.”

I bump my shoulder against hers and we continue forward to the front door of the office.

“Do we knock or just walk in?” she asks, hesitating as we approach.

“I think we should just go in.”

“Are you sure? What if?—”

Alana is cut off by the door to the office opening and Amélie greeting us with a warm smile.

“Hello,” she says in an almost comically bright voice. “We have been waiting for you. Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there.”

We follow her inside and hang our coats on a rack to the left of the door. This office looks more like a home than an office. There are small rooms on either side of the hallway we walk down. Inside are islands of desks with large desktop computers sitting on top of them. The desks are huddled together, so that each person is facing one another.

As we walk past, people look up from their work and smile and wave at us. It makes me feel ten times less anxious about the dynamic in the office and I can tell Alana is feeling lighter as well.

Amélie leads us down to the end of the hallway and into a larger room where she says we will be doing most of our work. It’s clear that this is the biggest room in the space and the desks are grouped in fours and scattered throughout the room. The only ones occupied, however, are two desks in the back left corner.

“This is where our editors work. As you can see, and as you know, we are down a few.” Amélie smiles sheepishly. “You can place your things down in here and I will go ahead and give you the tour. Genevieve and Luis, meet Alana and Alex.”

Alana makes her way to the back corner of the room where the only two remaining editors sit, and I follow. She holds out her hand for them to shake. “You can call me Lana,” she says with a sweet smile.

Genevieve looks at her hand suspended in the air and hesitates. For a second I’m afraid she won’t shake it all, but finally after a long awkward pause, she places her hand in Lana’s.

“C’est un plaisir de vous rencontrer. Nous allons beaucoup nous amuser ensemble,” Genevieve says as she shakes her hand. Luis snorts a laugh from her left and Amélie sighs behind us. I know she said ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you’, but I’m not fast enough to understand the second sentence, and with the way the others in the room reacted I’m not sure I want to.

Lana laughs uncomfortably and holds her hand out to Luis next, who shakes it with zero emotion on his face. After the warm smiles and waves from the rest of the staff, it’s jarring how ice cold it feels in here.

Amélie leads us back out of the room after we say our hellos to our new office besties and we head back to the front. She takes us through each room, introducing us to the staff members inside and telling us what each of them do. We don’t run into any other cold greetings like the first ones we received, thankfully.

She shows us the kitchen, which is just a small narrow room with a refrigerator, sink and coffee machine. I make each of us a cup before returning to the editor room. We sit down at a few desks towards the front of the room and Amélie joins us.

“Alright then, are you two ready to get started?”

I nod and glance over at Alana. She hasn’t said much throughout the half hour that we’ve been here and I find myself wanting to know what she thinks of all of this, and if she’s anxious or excited or nervous.

“I have planned for you both to meet with Genevieve and Luis this morning in order to get a better picture of how you can be helpful with completing their tasks. Once you all meet, I think you’ll have a good plan for moving forward. Then this afternoon we have two interviews. Alex, I’ll have you sit in on those and we can discuss after what your thoughts are.”

Despite my very basic understanding of French, I am concerned about understanding the interviews. I couldn’t even pick up what Genevieve said a few minutes ago, I don’t know how an interview will be any better.

“We will conduct the interview in English if the candidate speaks it, that way you can follow the conversation. About half tend to, so we should be okay for the most part,” Amélie says, practically reading my mind. “If they do speak English, you are welcome to sit in as well, Alana. The two candidates today do, so we will have you both in there.”

“That sounds great,” Alana replies with a smile. “We will start out with Luis and Genevieve, and I look forward to the interviews this afternoon.”

Amélie lets us know she will be in her office and we are welcome to check in any time, and then leaves us to our new team. They are huddled in their corner, whispering to each other in French and snickering every so often. I look over at Alana with a look that hopefully communicates I already hate these two . I’m pretty sure her eyes say Me too back to me.

We both take a collective breath, then stand and head back to the duo.