Page 1 of Falling into Place
Chapter One
Carly
I went to a new Thai restaurant yesterday and it made me think of you. It was so good I thought about having it again tonight, but then I remembered it was Thursday and Thursday is Barrio’s night. I can’t seem to stop going there every week like we used to, but now I sit at the bar instead of at our regular table. Have you found a place over there you go every Thursday? Anyway. Miss you.
—Email from Carly Porter to Benjamin Wheeler
“I would rather walk barefoot across broken glass than have sex with that man.”
Extreme? Perhaps.
Overdramatic? Maybe.
Something one shouldn’t say to their boss at 8:00 a.m. on a Monday morning before everyone had at least two cups of coffee? Probably.
But desperate times called for desperate measures.
Five minutes ago, Carly had walked into her longtime friend and part-time boss’s office feeling fresh, hopeful, and a little nervous. Butlike, thegoodkind of nervous. The kind you get when you’re about to cross the stage at graduation to receive that hard-earned degree or walk down the aisle toward the partner of your dreams. Maybe you didn’t love that people would be staring at you, and you were slightly terrified you’d trip and fall and make a fool of yourself, but still, this was something youwantedto do. It was something good and exciting.
Today, Carly was the good kind of nervous because she’d been called into Mai’s office for a one-on-one. The last two people who’d had a private meeting with either Mai or her business partner, Kyle, had been offered rare full-time, salaried positions at Mode Style, Oklahoma City’s premier personal-styling business. Ever since moving back to her hometown two years ago, Carly had worked for Mode on a client-by-client basis as a contract employee. Which meant she’d had to keep herotherjob as an accountant that, while it paid the bills, bored her to tears.
She’d give anything to work in fashion full-time and had been killing herself to take on and go above and beyond for every client possible to prove herself. Her positive client-feedback rating was the highest in the company.
There was no way Mai hadn’t noticed how hard she’d been working.
The excitement swirling through her veins meant she didn’t notice Mai’s solemn expression when Carly sat down on the other side of the desk. But when her boss-slash-friend spoke, her grim tone was unmistakable.
“Carly, we need to talk.”
Carly’s stomach dropped to her toes. “Oh.” Her spine went straight and she gripped her hands together in her lap. “Um, okay?”
Was Mode going under? Was Mai leaving? Was Kyle?
Mai’s cheeks puffed out as she slowly blew out a long breath. “Mrs. Princeton reached out to me over the weekend.”
Carly frowned. “Kitty Princeton?”
“Yes. Your client’s wife.”
Though the term “client” was technically correct, it was also generous. Carly had felt more like a mix between a kindergarten teacherand an etiquette instructor during the hours she’d spent with the sixty-four-year-old oil tycoon. She’d spent more time than not politely (but firmly) declining his advances and attempting to redirect his focus from her breasts to appropriate subjects, such as current tie-width trends and popular street styles for more ... seasoned men. She didn’t have kids but wondered if maybe this was what it was like trying to dress a six-year-old who kept running off to play with his toys.
Unfortunately, the only toy Chet Princeton wanted to play with was ... well, Carly.
“She called you on a weekend?”
Mai nodded. “Sent an email, too. And when I say what I’m about to say, I don’t want you to panic, all right?”
Oh God.
“She contacted me to express concerns about your behavior toward her husband. She alleges that you’ve been ... overly flirtatious with Mr. Princeton during your appointments.”
“Shewhat?”
The only reason Carly stopped there was Mai’s flat expression that said,I know this is complete bullshit, but let me finish. “She said he’s uncomfortable working with you, and she requested I assign a different stylist. She also suggested I consider ... corrective action to address your unprofessional behavior. Now, don’t look at me like that; I know it’s not true.”
“Thank God,” Carly said. She felt sick. “Because I would rather walk barefoot across broken glass than have sex with that man.”
Mai snorted, then put her hand up while she composed herself. “I’ll accept that as your formal rebuttal to her allegations. I’ve known you a long time and know you wouldn’t behave that way with a client, and on top of that I’m a member of the same country club as the Princetons. Everyone knows that guy has had more affairs than dollars in his bank account.”
