Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(13)
“Know what you need, honey?”
Faith batted her lashes. Her brief pretty-cry hadn’t so much as run her mascara. “A lobotomy?” she deadpanned.
“Shoes,” Sofie answered with a giggle. If there was one thing she was good at, it was shopping for shoes. And helping her friends shop for shoes.
“Funny you should ask what I need. It’s kind of why I’m here with a Grande cup of butter-you-up.”
“Well, it’s working.” The white chocolate mocha was sweet, delicious, completely fattening, and horrible for her metabolism. Cup of Jo’s lattes were the work of the devil, like every other thing delicious and completely bad for her.
Like tall, sexy, mansion-inheriting, virginity-stealing exes.
“You know how you are looking for an assistant?” Faith asked, snapping Sofie out of the pity party she’d started planning.
Sofie didn’t need to turn her head to know there was a massive to-do list with three pages of bullet-pointed tasks sitting on her desk. Plans for the Open Arms dinner. Had Donovan shown this morning like he’d threatened, she would have again refused to void the contract. No way would she relocate this, her biggest, most meaningful project, because it was inconvenient for him.
A twelve-page address list sat next to the to-do list, some with addresses, others requiring a phone call to get addresses. Those calls needed to be made, and when the invitations arrived, they would need to be mailed. Then there was the design and printing of the table tents. She still needed to gather the logos and other artwork for local businesses sponsoring the event. Not to mention her e-mail inbox overflowing with responses from DJs, caterers, and pricing for gifts for each and every attendee…
Her chest grew tight and she lifted a hand to her throat. Yes. She still needed an assistant. Badly.
“Sofe?”
She blinked over at Faith, whose face was a mask of concern. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
“I quit Abundance Market this morning. I went in to open and there was Cookie. Michael hired her. Like me working with that slimehole wasn’t bad enough.” Faith’s upper lip curled in disgust. “Now she’s there.” She shook her head. “I’ve moved from paycheck to unemployment line.” Smiling prettily, she tacked on, “Unless you still need an assistant.”
Sympathy for her best friend aside, Sofie felt weight instantly lift from her shoulders at the prospect of help.
“You’d better not be kidding,” she warned. “I have been doing interviews for a month and haven’t liked anyone.”
Faith’s pretty smile turned into a satisfied grin.
“I’m not sure I can pay what you were making at Abundance.” Sofie bit her lip. She wasn’t “not sure,” she was sure, sure. The salary she’d earmarked for her assistant wasn’t in the same league as what Faith had previously earned. “As far as benefits go, the insurance plan I have only covers me personally, and since the position is part-time…”
Faith’s hand rested on Sofie’s, comforting her when things should be the other way around. “It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”
This was why she loved her best friend. Faith was one of the few people who went to bat for her. Faith had money. Plenty of money. But here she was, taking a job she didn’t technically need, bailing Sofie out when they both knew she could have been hired anywhere else and earned twice as much for her efforts.
“As long as you’re sure…” Sofie found herself arguing.
“Are you kidding? Who would I rather work with than my best friend? Trust me, this will be a dream after having to show up early, stay late, and do the liquor order for the entire store.”
Sofie may be a people pleaser, but she knew better than to argue further. “You’re hired. The Open Arms charity dinner isn’t going to plan itself.”
And for the first time in a long time, she was in way over her head.
Donovan’s angry, handsome face flashed in her mind.
In more ways than one.
An hour and a half later, Faith was set up at the desk while Sofie hunched over her laptop on a guest chair. She’d been answering e-mails for the last hour and had tasked Faith with calling the list of invitees to ensure there were complete addresses for the invitations.
Faith insisted on starting today, claiming she could use the distraction.
“Thank you, Mrs. Robinson.” She hung up the phone and said to Sofie, “Mrs. Robinson. Oh, the irony.”
Sofie laughed at the joke, knowing Faith was referring to her famous mother’s reputation for bedding younger men.
They’d been so preoccupied with the planning, Sofie hadn’t had a chance to tell her best friend about the man who’d darkened her doorstep last night. When the string of bells over her door clanged, and Donovan Pate strode into her shop, tall, dark, and broody, she realized her faux pas.
Faith had worked at the Wharf when Sofie did, so it was no surprise she recognized Donny on sight. “Oh my God.”
“A little less holy,” Sofie muttered. She had been prepared to confront him this morning. Now after lunch, she’d assumed he wasn’t coming in. She was no longer prepared.
“What is he doing here?” Faith whispered.
Sofie didn’t have a chance to answer. Donovan strode over and slapped a single silver key onto the desktop calendar. More specifically, on top of the letter S in strength. Sofie’s eyes tracked from the key, to the fingers resting on it, and up the tattooed arm of the man who had delivered it.