The Marks That Bind Us - Book cover

The Marks That Bind Us

Vivienne Wren

Party Planner

AVA

“That’s what I said!” I sat down in the car and put my phone on its dashboard mount. “He repeated the actual words. He must’ve heard somehow.”

Maisy was quiet for a moment. “Mandatory attendance… That’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”

“Maybe he’s scared no one will show up otherwise?” I pulled out into the street and turned the corner.

“Maybe. So are you bringing a plus-one?”

I laughed. “Who would I bring, Mais? Planning on coming over to join me?”

“You know I would if I could! If Gavin hadn’t denied my PTO, I would already be on a plane right now.”

I swallowed thickly. Sure, I’d made some friends since moving, but my close friends—Maisy being the closest—were all the way back in Seattle. I shook off the sadness and straightened my shoulders.

“At least it’s a good way to get to know Tobias a little better.”

“Ooh, yes!” Maisy said.

“I’m almost here, Mais. I’ve got to go.” We exchanged our goodbyes, promising to talk later that night.

I walked into one of the Brentstone elevators and pressed the button next to the number twelve. Just before the doors closed, I saw Mr. Brentstone walking my way.

I panicked, but I still remembered to press the Doors Open button just in time for him to be able to get on.

Mr. Brentstone entered the elevator and looked me up and down briefly before turning his back to me. I tried not to take offense, but I couldn’t help myself and made a face at his back.

“Charming,” he said.

I felt my cheeks heat up and quickly scanned the elevator to find out how he had seen me. I then realized that the elevator doors were slightly reflective, and I closed my eyes, cursing myself silently.

Mr. Brentstone turned to face me. “I’m looking for someone to join the party planning committee.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Me?”

“Yes, you, Ms. Mayweather.” He sounded disgruntled. “You seem to be into that kind of stuff.”

I was going to make a comment about him assuming things when he didn’t know me at all, but then I realized that I was literally carrying a box of Christmas ornaments when he met me.

“Okay,” I said reluctantly.

“Great.” He turned his back to me once again. “You can decorate the office later today, after work. Write overtime.”

Before I had time to process what he had said, the elevator doors opened, and away he went.

The day was filled with brainstorming, a few slightly boring meetings, and the start of a new project, another children’s book.

These were honestly my favorite to work on, since I could go all out. I’d decided to use a combination of watercolor and line art, and it was, frankly, looking great so far.

The day ended without my noticing, and it was August who burst my working bubble.

“A few of us are having drinks at Mel’s bar across the road. Care to join?”

“Hell yes!” I jumped up, ready to follow him out the door, but then I remembered my not-so-voluntary decorating job. “Actually, could I get a raincheck on that? I’m occupied tonight.”

The office started slowly clearing out, and soon it seemed to be just me. I wondered who had decided this would be a one-woman job and how I had become the woman carrying it out.

I walked over to Mr. Brentstone’s office. I had no idea what was expected of me, and I was pretty sure everyone else had already left.

I was kind of hoping he’d forgotten and left so that I could do the same. Maybe I’d even be able to catch up with the others at Mel’s.

I started walking back to my office, contemplating whether I could just leave and pretend I’d forgotten when I heard a door open behind me.

“Going somewhere?” Mr. Brentstone’s low voice made my insides stir.

I turned around to find him standing in the doorway, one arm casually resting on the doorpost above his head. God, did he look handsome. Snap out of it, Ava.

“I wasn’t sure you were here,” I lied.

“You could’ve knocked. You didn’t seem to have a problem with that last time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You didn’t really give the impression that I could just come and disturb you last time.”

“Good.” Mr. Brentstone went back into his office and came out carrying a box of Christmas decorations. “You…work your magic.” He put the box on the counter next to the water dispensers.

***

For a full two hours, I “worked my magic.” I put up decorations in a way that made the office look festive yet classy.

I even used a chalk marker to draw a calligraphic holiday quote on the large, mirrored wall across from the food court. I was just putting up the last glittery streamers when Mr. Brentstone exited his office.

“Looks good. Are you almost done?”

“Yep.” I stuck a pushpin into the ceiling to secure the streamer. I stepped back to admire my work, but forgot that I was standing on a ladder.

I fell—gripping the streamer for dear life, ripping it out of the ceiling by doing so—and braced myself for impact.

Instead of the hard ground, I felt two large hands caging my ribs.

“Careful now.” Mr. Brentstone lifted me and set me back down on the ground. “You’re a little accident-prone, aren’t you?”

It took me a second to register what he had said. My insides were swirling, and my vision was blurry. I felt almost drunk. Had I hit my head? I took a deep breath and gathered myself.

Yeah,” I squeaked, sounding freakishly high-pitched. I swallowed and tried again. “Yes… I’m the clumsiest person I know. It’s a curse, truly.”

“Let’s keep you off that ladder then. Don’t put yourself in harm’s way, especially in the office.”

He took the streamer out of my hand and pinned it back into place without even so much as touching the ladder. God, he was tall.

I looked around at the office. It looked nice. I gave myself a mental pat on the back.

“Do you think it looks okay? I was kind of hoping to get out of here shortly.”

Mr. Brentstone leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you have somewhere to be, Ms. Mayweather?”

“Yes, actually.” I was surprised by his lack of manners.

“Care to elaborate?”

I looked at him dumbfounded. The audacity of this man. I mean, I knew he was the boss and all, but this had to be crossing some sort of boundary.

“Are you asking me what I’m planning to do on my night off after having just stayed to decorate for two hours after my shift ended?”

“I told you to write overtime. So, what plans do you have?”

I swiped the leftover decorations off the counter and into the box and handed it to him.

“Calling a friend, if you must know.”

“What’s his name?” He set the box next to him.

I gaped at him. “You have no regard for personal boundaries, do you?”

I was kind of surprised at my own bravery. I’d never spoken to a person of authority that way before. Then again, none of them had ever pried into my personal life the way this guy had.

“Answer me, Ava.”

It made my heart flutter, hearing him say my name like that. I wanted to hate the man for the absolute boundary-crossing prick he was being, but clearly, I was also affected by it.

Her name is Maisy, if you must know. Is that okay with you, Mr. Brentstone, or would you like to listen in on the conversation too?”

He flashed me a sly grin and raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”

I found myself too stunned to reply. Mr. Brentstone’s face fell.

“That was a joke. You’re very uptight, you know that?”

All the confusing feelings were out the window now, leaving just anger and disbelief.

“Is this how you treat all your employees?”

“Just you,” Mr. Brentstone said. He picked up the box and walked back to his office. “Go home and talk to your friend, Ava. Good night.” He shut the door behind him.

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