Nothing matched, but that didn’t take away from the fact that Ryder knew how to grill a good steak. He also picked a nice wine and had my favorite ice cream for dessert. I wanted to be annoyed at him, but he was so nice and accommodating, which was irritating in and of itself, but also made me feel ungrateful.
So as good as the food was and comfortable the bed was, I woke up irritated by my whole situation. I was ready to pick a fight, which I initiated with the rickety coffeemaker. Seriously, that thing has to be older than me. Ryder had to intervene before I tossed the old coffee maker out the window.
“It’s ancient, but it brews the best damn cup of coffee you’ll ever have,” he said as he scooped the grinds into the filter.
He was right about that too. Damn him. The brew was dark and smooth, and woke up my brain. He even found a to-go cup and poured me a cup to take with me.
I was staring at that damn cup when Sinclair and Mayor Valentine entered the outer area of the mayor’s office. With them was a young woman who looked like she stepped out a coed cheerleading magazine. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and an eagerness in her expression as she took in the office surroundings.
“Trina, this is Brooke Campbell, a new assistant. Brooke, this is Trina Lados, senior administrative assistant,” the mayor said.
I looked at him and then Sinclair in surprise. I didn’t know he was hiring anyone. Usually the hiring of assistants went through me.
“Hi. Welcome,” I said, managing a smile. “I didn’t realize we had a new person coming on.” There were a bazillion pieces of paperwork that needed to be done, which I felt certain neither he nor Sinclair had initiated. The heads of offices, whether it was a CEO or a mayor, were often viewed as all-knowing, but the fact of the truth was, if you needed to know anything about what was going on in an office, the secretary was the one to ask. She was also the one outsiders had to get through to get to the mayor, which had me wondering how this woman had reached the mayor to get hired without my knowing. I was very good at my job, and I knew without a doubt that she hadn’t come through the office. She’d accessed him outside of work, and for some reason, he’d allowed it. Then again, she was pretty, so maybe she used her feminine wiles.
“I know you’ve been swamped, so I took the liberty,” he said.
I frowned. I’d been busy, but I was never swamped. I was too organized to be swamped. I had a phobia of the feeling of being overwhelmed, so I did my damnedest to avoid it.
“Ms. Campbell is a friend of the family, and I know you’ll take good care of her getting her settled and showing her the ropes,” the mayor said. “Brooke, why don’t you take the office next to mine.”
My brows shot up. She got an office? I looked toward Sinclair, who shrugged. The mayor escorted Brooke to the office next to his.
“Technically that space should be yours,” I said to Sinclair. “It’s bigger than the one you have.”
Sinclair watched as the mayor and Brooke entered the office. “I like mine being down the hall. Sometimes when Wyatt comes to see me—”
“Stop. I don’t want to know.” Of course, I already did know. There was no mistaking the satisfied expressions they sported after spending time alone behind Sinclair’s closed door. “What’s he doing?” I asked, working to change the subject.
“She’s the daughter of Mo’s neighbor and apparently a good friend. She graduated from college and needs a job.”
That rankled. “He’s abusing his authority. There are proper channels for hiring.”
Sinclair shrugged. “She’s got the skills. She’s smart and articulate. And we could use the extra hands. You should be happy. You can pass off some of your grunt work to her.”
I couldn’t help but feel like I was somehow letting the office down if the Mayor and Sinclair felt the need for additional help. But I didn’t want to admit I felt slighted.
“It still looks improper,” I said.
“Never mind about her. How’s married life?” Sinclair grinned at me. “Tell me all about the honeymoon.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’d expect that sort of comment from your brother, but not you.”
Sinclair laughed. “Trouble in paradise already?”
“You’re getting way too much enjoyment from this. You know he rubs me wrong.”
“So, he rubbed you?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
I pursed my lips at her. “Of all the people to do this bet with, he’s the worst.”
“First, you could do a lot worse than Ryder. He’s easy-going, which with your temperament will make this little experiment easier.”
She was wrong about that. His easy-going nature irked me to no end.
“Second,” she continued, “I’m not the one who chose him. Ryder volunteered. I have to wonder why he’d do that knowing you as we do.”
There was something in her statement that suggested a deeper meaning.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“You said it yourself; oil and water.”
I shrugged. “He probably just wanted the opportunity to annoy me more than he already does. He gets a perverse sense of joy out of hassling me.”
“What did he do last night to annoy you?” she asked.
“His plates don’t match.”
“No!” Sinclair made an exaggerated horrified look. “How did you ever survive? What else? I suppose he put the mint in the tea wrong.”
“No. That was good.”
“His steak overcooked?”
“No.” I was forced to admit he was a good cook.
“The bed was lumpy?”
I
