Restoration

For the past six years, my life has revolved around one man—Edmund “Worth” Worthing—and it’s time for that to change.

When I started working for him, it was supposed to be a temporary job to get me through the summer between the first year of my MBA and the second. A friend of my dad’s recommended me to Edmund since he needed someone to review and organize the file cabinets of papers his parents had left behind when they died. I’ve been known all my life as a master organizer, and I don’t mind tedious work. I thought it would be a quiet, no-stress summer position.

I was as wrong as I’ve ever been in my life.

Instead of hiding away in an office, shuffling papers all summer, I kept getting pulled away to tackle other things. Like bringing his huge closet into order. Like scheduling dozens of interviews for new landscapers and personal trainers. Like planning four different weekend trips for him and his then girlfriend and then escorting them to make sure all the arrangements went smoothly.

By the end of July, Edmund was actively trying to get me to stay on full time as his personal assistant. I never would have considered it had my parents not lost almost all their savings that summer through a series of bad investments. They needed immediate financial help, and Edmund kept increasing the salary he was offering me.

So I became his assistant, vowing it would only be for a year. After that, I’d go back to grad school and complete my MBA. I’d once more pursue the kind of career I’ve always wanted.

Six years later and I’m still here, organizing Edmund’s life and picking out his shoes.

Not at all how I ever envisioned my life at twenty-eight years old.

“Autumn, I need you!”

I can’t begin to estimate how many times I’ve heard those words over the past six years. Far too many to count.

This evening they’re coming from the back seat of Edmund’s fancy black SUV as the interior dividing window rolls down.

I turn in the front passenger seat to look back at him. He’s dressed tonight in a stylish tailored suit with his wavy hair tamed into a semblance of order since he and his girlfriend are on their way to a newly opened restaurant that’s gotten such good press it’s booked out for more than six months.

“Do I have anything scheduled for next weekend?” he asks in response to my questioning look.

Edmund is ridiculously good-looking with a long, fit body, wavy brown hair, and the Worthing chocolate-brown eyes. He’s a lot smarter than he ever lets on, but he’s cultivated an air of laid-back nonchalance—as if nothing in the world can ever faze him or break his good humor.

He’s a lot of fun to hang out with. Everyone he knows would testify to that fact. But he never takes anything seriously, so he’s not the kind of person you can really rely on.

“You made tentative plans to go sailing with Ben Winfrey,” I reply, checking his schedule on my iPad to make sure I’m not forgetting anything. “He’s only going to be in the country for a couple of weeks, so you can’t push that back too far. Otherwise, you’ve got that charity gala at the museum on Saturday night. You said you’d go, but I can get you out of it if you’ve got something else.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, we were talking about Paris for a few days, but I don’t want to miss Ben. We can fit the trip in later this month.”

I nod, glancing over at Kontessa, Edmund’s girlfriend of five months. She’s looking pissed and pouty—not an unusual expression for her.