“I wanted to make sure you got there okay. I’m riding with you.”
I look over at my guard, standing near the door in his black suit. His salt and pepper hair lays perfectly combed on top of his head while he stares forward. He looks like the British soldiers that stand in front of the castle for hours on end and don’t laugh when people jump in front of them. I’m tempted to wave my hand in front of his face, but I refrain.
I lean in close to Aiden, and whisper, “Does he have to come?” I gesture my thumb over to the giant statue.
He smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Even if everything didn’t happen, I can’t allow you to leave the house looking like this.” His eyes leisurely take in my body. “Without some form of protection.”
I laugh. “Right.” I kiss him. “But can he follow while you drive us? I don’t want my new boss to think I’m some spoiled girl who has a driver.”
He gives me an amused look. “You’re not some spoiled girl who has a driver.” A smirk crosses his face. “You’re my spoiled girl who has a driver.”
I swat his arm. “Seriously. I don’t want them to judge me.”
He leans against the counter. “Why do you give a fuck what your boss thinks? I should be your boss.”
I see the shimmer in his eyes and have to refrain from melting. “Be nice.”
He scoffs, stepping towards me. “I shouldn’t even allow another man to tell you what to do.”
Mint and smoke invade my senses, making me dizzy. I look to the side and take a deep breath. “The application says the owner and chef is Avery. She’s a girl.” I retort, giving him a confident look.
His body relaxes and he nods. “I’ll drive you.”
My guard follows close as we walk outside. I roll my eyes “Why don’t you have a guard?” I look pointedly between us and my guard.
Aiden shrugs. “Don’t need one.” He pulls back his black suit jacket slightly to reveal a pistol strapped to his waist.
I swat his arm and hurriedly close his jacket; afraid someone will see. “Aiden!” I shake my head. “You know, you could just do business properly and we wouldn’t need all this.” I gesture to where his pistol sits.
He kisses my forehead. “I’m trying, baby girl.”
∞∞∞
I take in the modern detail of Aiden’s Mercedes along with the middle seat that I can’t slide into and sigh. Aiden looks at me with a raised brow, but I shake my head.
Knowingly, he tilts his head and smiles. “You prefer the Challenger?”
I smile and agree.
He nods his approval, pushing a button on the dash, the sleek car quietly comes to life and we take off down the road.
I point out the directions as my guard follows in a black SUV. I’m beginning to feel guilty for complaining about having a bodyguard, but this is all so weird to me.
“I’m sorry I may be working over here and your detail has to come with me everywhere.” I frown.
He slides a warm hand on my thigh, his eyes still on the road. “No, I’m happy. I want you to live your life however you see fit. You won’t even notice he’s there.”
Aiden parks out front and opens the door for me. I climb out with his help and he plants a kiss on my cheek.
“Do you need me to come inside?”
I laugh. “Absolutely not. Get to work. I’ll ride back with British soldier guy whenever the interview’s over.”
“He’s American?” Aiden says, giving me an odd expression. I realize what I said. No time to explain, I shrug and kiss him on the lips to say goodbye before turning. He grips my arm firmly and yanks me back into his firm body, he has a serious expression.
He cups my cheek. “No job will ever come before me, understand? Don’t rush to say goodbye to me again.”
I gulp at the way his eyes burn into me.
He kisses me passionately before pulling away with a smile. “Good luck, baby.” He leaves me, breathless, as usual.
I glance at the sign in black cursive.
La Patisserie. A quaint French pastry shop tucked in a small corner of the busy Portland city streets. Modern and beautiful.
Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and walk in. I’m instantly hit with a melody of aromas. Fresh espresso and an assortment of pastries and sweets that line the glass counters. I’m getting excited just imagining all the techniques I’ll learn from Avery.
Do I call her Miss Avery, or just Avery? Maybe by her last name?
I’m sweating, thinking of all the things that can go wrong and my confidence flies out the window.
A woman eyes me as she walks up to the counter before smiling. Mid-twenties with beautiful blonde hair. She’s very accomplished to be so young with her own storefront in the city.
“You must be Ms. Banks,” She greets with a wide smile.
“Yes, but please call me Emilia.” I shake her hand.
I don’t usually use my full name, but I have to admit it sounds fancier. I like it when Aiden calls me by my full name. Hearing others say it will remind me of him.
She gestures to the back. “Right this way, Emilia.”
We walk through the small yet spacious shop towards a backroom.
Avery is so friendly I feel like this interview will be a breeze…until she opens the door to reveal an office with a man sitting behind a mahogany desk.
His deep voice bellows through the room. “Ahh, thank you, Miranda.” He looks over at me. “This must be Ms. Banks.” He smiles.
I try to think of something to say, but he looks so intimidating. “Hello, Mr…” I look at his
