Page 39 of Sugar Coated Lies
“I never would have guessed she has endured so much loss with how cheerful she is.”
“It’s the farm. She loves working here. Her last place of employment was…rough.”
“I’m glad she has us then. And if she needs anything, we’re here to help. Make sure she knows that. Family is everything, and the farm is our family, too.”
“I know.” It’s one of the things I admire the most about the way my dad runs his business. “I’ll see what I can do to get her to the party.”
“You’re a good man, son. The girl deserves a night of fun.”
“You’re a good coach.”
We end the call, and I’m caught between wanting to give Everleigh a night off to enjoy one of Mom’s brilliant parties or to make sure she doesn’t attend.
If Mom meets her, she’ll most likely discuss the new employee with Benedict’s mom next week, which increases the chance of Benedict discovering who she is. I mean, how many Everleighs can there be in the world, particularly ones with raven hair and cobalt eyes? She stands out.
Chapter11
Everleigh
I dropoff the basket filled with towels that need to be laundered in the basement of the store. It doesn’t look like a basement. The laundry room is much nicer than my home, and the rest of the space is used for inventory.
Today was another great workday. Millie is more like a dear aunt than a manager.
I’m halfway up the stairs to the first floor when I get a text from Daire’s number, only his contact isn’t labeled under his last name anymore. I changed it.
Daire: Hi Everleigh. It’s Daire. Can you come to my office before you leave?
I round the corner and head for the stairs to the second floor, not too far down the hallway.
Tension creeps up my neck, and I hate it. When a boss calls you to his office, it’s never good.
I knock softly on the door that is open by a few inches.
“Come in,” Daire calls out.
I inch into his office, bracing myself for what he has to say.
When he looks up from his laptop, his serious expression shifts into a bright, welcoming smile. “Hi. Please have a seat.” He gestures to the chairs in front of his desk.
I perch on the edge of one, my purse clutched on my lap.
“You look terrified.”
“Is everything okay?”
As if he catches on to why I’m nervous, he says, “You’re not in trouble. How could you be? You’re perfect.”
I can’t stop a smile from forming. My heart does a silly somersault, which I ignore.
“I mean, you’re a perfect employee.”
It’s not the same as him thinking I’m perfect, but it’s still a good compliment. “Thank you.”
“My mother is having an employee party at the estate this Friday. She does this whenever we hire someone new. She likes to meet new employees and help them feel like family, because this farm and everyone who works here is part of our family.”
“Wow, that’s really kind and wonderful. It makes me even more grateful to work for such a great company, but…”
“But you have your grandfather to consider.”
