Lorena rolled her eyes and went to work twisting her hair into a knot on top of her head. She’d taken the brown hair we shared and bleached it a pale blonde, verging on white, a few months back. Her roots were showing now that she was stuck in “rehab hell”, but I knew she’d color it back as soon as she could.
“And my space in Brooklyn? Are you planning on dumping that as well?”
I frowned, unsure of how honest she wanted me to be. I had plans to overhaul her entire company, to get rid of the employees and slim down on expenses. I’d wanted to step in years ago, but it was Lorena’s baby, and I respected her need to make decisions on her own. At the same time, I owned 49% of the company and that 49% was about to be worth nothing if something drastic wasn’t done.
“The Brooklyn warehouse is still under lease for the next two months, but I’d like to move the company to a space in Manhattan.”
She groaned, but I pushed on.
“While I’m running the company, I’m not commuting out to Brooklyn every morning. I’ll find a space in Manhattan and set up shop there.”
“And you’re the only employee right now? Just great.” She threw her hands in the air in defeat.
“No, actually. I hired someone just this morning.”
She slid her gaze to me, curiosity and skepticism fighting for control over her features.
“And who, pray tell, did you hire to help run MY company? Some idiot straight out of fashion school? So help me god if they think they can come in and take over my designs—”
“Relax. I hired someone you’d like. Her name is Josephine Keller—”
“Wait. Josephine from What Jo Wore?”
“You know her?”
Lorena nodded. “I don’t live under a rock. She’s that pretty blogger chick from Texas, right?”
I hesitated before nodding and then told myself I was only confirming that she was from Texas, not that she was pretty, though she was. Gorgeous even, but I shook the thought away.
“She’ll be my assistant, but she’ll also help me with the branding and marketing side of things.”
“Where will the two of you work while you look for a new place?” she asked.
I swallowed before answering. “My hotel.”
Lorena nodded with an arched brow. “Interesting. I mean, convenient.”
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Do you have any office spaces for me to take a look at yet?”
“I’m meeting with a realtor tomorrow morning. I’ll bring over information about the prospective properties after that.”
“Assuming I’m still alive tomorrow.” Lorena frowned just as a knock sounded from her door.
A moment later, a “recovery and wellness concierge” popped her head in and smiled. “The group activity is starting in the main room in fifteen minutes. We’ll be screening Sixteen Candles while lighting sixteen lamps filled with different aromatherapy oils.”
She smiled and closed the door after her announcement and Lorena’s eyes widened in horror. “Do you see what I mean? They’re poisoning me with cheesy 80s movies and yucky lettuce.”
I laughed and stood to leave. My baby sister had made her bed of kale, and now she had to lie in it.
Chapter Eight
Josephine
I’d just finished shoving the last bite of a donut in my mouth when my phone buzzed in my hand. I wiped the chocolate icing from my mouth and discarded the donut box in the trash. I took extra care to get rid of all the evidence of the sweet doughy deliciousness because that’s how denial works. No proof, no calories. Ha!
After I wiped my hands, I swiped my finger across the screen and answered the call.
“Hello?” Yeah, my mouth was still pretty full. Attractive, I know.
“Josephine?”
The deep voice sent a slight shiver down my spine. I swallowed slowly.
“Julian?” I asked, pulling the phone away from my cheek to check the number. I didn’t recognize the area code.
“Yes. Sorry to call you so early. I just wanted to let you know that we won’t be meeting at my hotel like we originally planned.”
“Oh.”
I sounded sad. Why did I sound sad? Had I been looking forward to seeing the inside of Julian’s hotel room? Had I wanted some alone time with him?
“Is that all right?” he asked, sounding worried.
“Oh! Yeah. Of course. Where are we meeting instead?”
“My realtor has lined up a few properties for us to take a look at. I’ll text you the first address after we hang up.”
“Okay, cool. I love looking at real estate.”
He laughed. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”
I laughed. “I’m borderline addicted to HGTV. It’s not healthy.”
“Ah, I see. Well, we’ll be going into some unfinished job sites, so make sure you wear closed-toe shoes.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll dress the part,” I quipped.
“Are you getting ready as we talk? I’m already on my way to the first address.”
Oh crap. “Let me go so I can map it.”
“All right. Good luck.”
I dropped my phone and scrambled to finish getting ready. Last night Julian had emailed me a few details about my first day on the job. I’d planned on meeting him at his hotel—where we’d be working until we found a space to rent in Manhattan—but if we were going to be running around town all day, I needed to change my shoes. My feet would be screaming by the second listing.