Page 6 of The Rebel
“I thought you’d be happy about it.” She sounded pleased.
“And why can’t you just be my personal assistant?” I double-checked, as if I hadn’t asked her a million times already.
She laughed. “Because I love working in HR.”
“Right.” And she was damn good at it too.
“Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, Anthony.”
“Thanks, you too.”
After hanging up, I called Beckett.
He answered immediately. “Hey, brother. Just narrowly escaped the grandmothers and Bella, huh?”
I laughed. “How the hell do you already know that?”
“Felix called to brag about today’s catch. One thing led to another…”
Yep, that was typical.
“Want to grab a drink in the Quarter? I need it,” I said.
“Sure.”
I made a mental note to share with him the info the grandmothers mentioned about the ingredient ambrose. He’d been even more curious than me ever since they first mentioned products for us. Not that he believed any of their items had powers either, but we were both very close with our grandmothers and liked to indulge them.
“Special occasion? The family annoyed you too much?”
“No. My assistant quit.”
“Again?”
I groaned. I really needed a Sazerac. “Yeah. And Dorothy just said she needs a damn recruiter to get me another one.”
“Shit. All right, I’ll bite. Let’s meet for drinks, and you can fill me in.”
“Perfect.”
I couldn’t believe I was looking for my seventh assistant this year. This time, I was going to do things differently.
CHAPTER 2
DAISY
Oh,New Orleans, I love you.
I stood on the balcony of my newly rented apartment, taking in the view. I took a sip from my glass of champagne, sighing. How did I get so lucky? My dream job was starting in two weeks. I was the senior marketing manager for a well-known brand of whiskey at the young age of twenty-seven. How cool was that? I’d worked my ass off to get here, and it had paid off.
I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the street below me.
I’d initially wanted to live in the French Quarter, but I wasn’t a fan of the properties there. They looked much better on the outside than on the inside, and the prices were sky-high. So, I’d chosen the Marigny neighborhood instead.
I never thought I’d move to the South. I was originally from North Dakota. My parents still lived there, running the farm where I grew up.
Even though I didn’t visit often, we chatted on the phone all the time. I felt a bit guilty about that, though I spoiled them in every other way possible. I sent them on vacation to Miami each year, and I was currently trying to convince them to let me buythem a second vacation in the winter months. I’d almost won over Mom, but Dad was more difficult to persuade.
After graduating from Cornell, I’d worked in Chicago. I loved the Windy City, but it was time for a change. Especially after a mishap in my love life. I’d started dating my next-door neighbor, and it seemed like things were going well. Or so I thought. Turned out I was the only one who believed that, because he was also dating our first-floor neighbor in apartment B.
