“If I recall correctly, you asked for a hug,” he said in a sour voice. He gave her an unhappy look. Maylee straightened her clothes, but he turned to a mirror on a far wall and began to jerk at the tie around his neck, trying to tie it . . . and doing a rather lousy job.
“A hug?” Maylee choked on a laugh. That sounded so funny. “Really?”
The look he shot her wasn’t amused. He untied the tie and then tried to tie it again. “Yes, and then you crawled all over me and wept. It was not how I anticipated spending my flight, Ms. Meriweather.”
She bit her lip, a flush of embarrassment heating her cheeks. He sounded so utterly disgusted with her. So much for a great first impression. “Sorry about that. I must not have been myself.”
“You were not. You combined alcohol with your pills and it affected your brain.” He gave her another displeased look. “At least, I assume that’s not how you normally are.”
The smile that curved Maylee’s mouth was tight. She’d be nice and super polite to this man despite his mean words. “I can assure you I normally don’t go around asking my employer for a hug, Mr. Griffin.”
“Mr. Verdi,” he corrected. “My last name isn’t Griffin, it’s my first name.”
She knew that. It was a polite sort of thing to add a “mister” in front of a first name, but she supposed he didn’t grasp that. Well, it wasn’t her place as his employee to correct him. Instead, she watched as he knotted the tie, scowled at his reflection, and then undid it again. At this rate, he was going to destroy the poor thing. It already looked rather mangled.
“As soon as we get to Bellissime, I’ll book you a flight back home,” he said.
Maylee frowned. But . . . they were almost at the airport. The worst part of the trip—the flying—was nearly over. She wanted to see Bellissime and she wanted to get that double-time money. “I’m real sorry about my behavior last night, but I’m not normally that kind of girl. It won’t happen again.”
“I know that. I took your pills.” Before she could protest, he attempted to knot the tie again and continued speaking. “Are you aware that you have an exceedingly pronounced drawl, Ms. Meriweather?”
“Call me Maylee, and yes, I’m aware. I’d have to be dead not to notice,” she told him, smiling. “It’s a Southern thing.”
“And are you aware that you’re wearing a polyester one-piece that pretends to be a two-piece suit?”
She gave the too-large dress a little shake. “No wrinkles. I’d say that’s pretty spiffy considering I slept in it.”
The look he shot her was scathing, which surprised Maylee. “Ms. Meriweather,” he began again, dragging the tie from his neck and starting over once more. “I am the Viscount Montagne Verdi. You may call me Lord Montagne Verdi, or Mr. Verdi, but not Lord Verdi. Not Mr. Griffin.”
“That sounds like a mouthful,” she teased. “Bellissime titles are named after places, right? I read that on Wikipedia.”
He gave her a withering look for interrupting him. “Are you quite finished?”
Maylee swallowed. “I guess so.”
“As I was saying. My cousin is Her Royal Highness Alexandra Olivia the Third, Crown Princess to Bellissime. She is getting married next week. This means there will be social functions that require knowledge of the rules of etiquette, someone who is willing to work night and day to wrangle my increasingly difficult schedule and, above all, I need someone who is capable at my side. I do not need a ‘burn talker.’”
She flushed a little. Had she mentioned that to him? “You might if you burn your hand,” she said cheerily. This man was grumpy, all right. But it was probably because he had to sleep in one of these chairs. It looked like he was destroying his poor tie, too. She had to do something about that. If it was anything like Mr. Hunter’s ties, it probably cost more than her rent did every month.
Maylee stepped forward and before Griffin could protest, she swatted his hands away from his tie. Expertly, she flipped up his collar, smoothed the silk fabric along his neck, and then began to fix his bow tie, taking great care to make sure the knot was perfect. “Mr. Griffin, I understand that you don’t want an assistant like me on this trip. I realize I’m not fancy like you expected.” She kept her voice soft and apologetic, and he’d gone silent. “But I am real good at keeping out of the way. And I’m real good at managing a schedule.” She tweaked the now perfect bow tie and then smiled at him. “And I can tie a mean tie.”