Page 26 of The Rebel

“Well, then,” Celine said, rubbing her hands together and turning to Isabeau. “Chop-chop. We better get working.”

CHAPTER 7

DAISY

Who’s doing a great job?Who’s doing a great job?

Yeah, I was hyping myself up, dancing throughout my apartment. This past week went much better than I envisioned, and I was so thankful.

After the first day, I wasn’t sure if Anthony and I could fall into a normal boss-assistant routine. But it turned out I didn’t have to worry, as the rest of the week was surprisingly smooth. Anthony was a consummate professional. There were no flirty undertones or inappropriate glances. Granted, I’d only been shadowing him three days out of the five, but it worked out well. I was very positive about this. We’d just had a flirty start, that was all.

I couldn’t lose sight of how much I needed this job. Samantha had left a message that Thornton’s didn’t foresee filling the position in the new year and suggested I look elsewhere. I felt a little put out by it.

As soon as I walked in the door of my apartment, I’d changed from my office attire to something more casual—shorts, a T-shirt, and my favorite cowboy boots. I figured they would also fit the vibe of a music festival, and there was nothing inappropriate about the outfit. Anthony didn’t seem to care muchabout dress codes. He only wore a suit the first day we met. He’d had jeans on every day since, and he looked mighty fine in them.

I sprayed on my favorite perfume, Coco Mademoiselle, as I looked at myself in the mirror. I was just missing a cowboy hat, but even I knew that would be too much. You could take the girl out of North Dakota, but you couldn’t take North Dakota out of the girl.

Glancing at the time, I decided to call my parents before leaving for the festival. It would have to be a quick check-in, but I missed them. Finally, they answered after about a million rings.

“My girl, you look good. Where are you heading?” Mom asked. We were closer in age than most mothers and daughters because she had me at sixteen, much to my grandparents’ chagrin. She was almost like my best friend.

“The music festival.” We were on FaceTime, and it was good to see my parents and their happy faces.

“The one you’ve been working on all this week?” Dad asked.

“Exactly. Officially, I’m going for work, but I plan to enjoy myself too.”

“Good for you. You should do that. That boss of yours treating you all right?”

I nodded vigorously. “He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

When they first asked me about him, I made the mistake of telling them that he’d been a bit cold at the office and left out the flirty coffee and lunch parts. Now, they were convinced that Anthony was a tyrant.

“He’s going to be at the festival too,” I added.

“You won’t get to have too much fun, then,” Mom said, deflating. “It’s Friday evening. You should do something special for yourself.”

“I will, I promise.” Glancing at the wall clock, I added, “Right, I have to go. Sorry the call was so short.”

“Never you mind. Send us pictures.”

“Will do.”

We said our goodbyes, and a little homesickness hit likealways as soon as I hung up. Maybe deep down I was a small-town girl after all.

As I was about to pocket my phone, I noticed a new message pop up. It was from Anthony.

Anthony: I’m running late.

Daisy: Okay, I’m just about to leave.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

Daisy: Is there a dress code?

Anthony: ?

I felt like an idiot as replied.