Two weeks.
That was how long it’d been since Bethany left.
It’d been fourteen days since she took over and my brain officially stopped working.
My productivity level had since reached an all-time low, and even though I’d managed to see Jo a record-breaking number of times over the last few days, I couldn’t seem to block out the sound of her voice as it bled through the thin wall that separated us.
I’d gone nearly nine months without noticing my previous assistant was even pregnant, and now, I couldn’t go an hour without breaking the tip off my pencil every time she answered the phone or laughed.
Was she talking to her boyfriend?
Shut up, Roman.
Staring at a spreadsheet that had been sent to me earlier in the day for approval, I was startled by the vibrations of my cell phone as it danced its way across my desk. Shaking myself out of a trance, I quickly picked it up and inwardly groaned.
I was in no mood for this.
“Hey, Jude,” I said, doing my best to cover any lingering fatigue in my voice.
“Hey, haven’t heard from you in a while. Thought I’d give you a call and get an update,” he said, his words slightly muffled.
I checked the clock, realizing it was sometime around lunch on the West Coast. He had a tendency to eat at his desk unless he was meeting his wife for lunch.
Why did I know this?
Because these were the things Jude liked to share, which was basically everything.
Ever since he’d gotten his life back on track, he suddenly couldn’t stop talking about it. Or maybe I just couldn’t stand to listen.
“Things are good,” I answered vaguely. “Everyone is still employed, and the board hasn’t fired me yet, so there’s that.”
He laughed at my joke, and then silence filled the air.
“And you’re okay?” he asked.
“Sure. Why?”
“Well, you never call and when you do talk, it’s to Lailah mostly. I know we aren’t super close, but I was hoping you’d be able to make a trip out here and see the baby before she wasn’t a baby anymore. You know, she took her first steps the other day,” he said, a sentimental resonance behind each word.
My finger wove through my hair as I took a deep sigh. “It’s been a busy year,” I replied.
“I know,” he answered. He sounded disappointed. “Lailah and I had a kid. Remember Meara, your niece?”
“Listen, I—” I began, trying to sever the awkward conversation, but a knock at my office door came before I had the chance.
Surprise with, I’d admit, a bit of anticipation churned in my gut as I yelled out an okay to enter.
“Hold on, Jude,” I said.
I placed the phone to my shoulder as I watched Cara enter.
Or tried to.
Hidden behind a large black chair was my tiny assistant. She was pushing it with force, making a grand entrance into the office.
“What the hell?” I uttered as she finally wheeled the thing up to my desk.
“It’s a new chair,” she said, her face beaming with pride.
“I see that. But why is it in my office?”
“It’s yours,” she explained simply, the smile never leaving her face.
“But I didn’t order it,” I replied curtly, looking at her with equal parts intrigue and hostility and maybe a dash of lust.
“You’re right. I did,” she said, her big brown eyes glowing, as her hands went to her hips. “You were complaining about your back the last time I was in here, and I wanted to be helpful. So, while you were holed up in here over the last week, I did some research on office chairs. Research is kind of my thing—although it’s usually historical research. Anyway, I love to hunt for information, so I made it my mission—since you haven’t given me anything else to do—to find you a better chair, and here it is!”
I was so dumbfounded by her sunny demeanor that I’d completely forgotten that Jude was waiting for me on my cell phone.
“Wait a second,” I said, holding out a finger, as I dragged the phone up to my ear. “You still there?”
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, amusement laced in each word. “And do I have some questions for you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’ve gotta go.”
“I bet you do.” He nearly laughed. “Call me back, brother. Otherwise, I’ll tell Lailah, and you know what that will mean.”
Jesus.
“Fine,” I grunted, not wanting a nagging call from my sister-in-law, whom I had a soft spot for.
When it came to me, Lailah tended to overanalyze, scrutinize, and hope for far more than I was ever willing to give.
I quickly hung up, dropping the phone on my desk, before turning my attention back on the petite brunette who’d stumbled into my office just minutes earlier.
She was dressed oddly once again, and her dark chestnut hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, which only highlighted the fact that she was light-years younger than me. The shoes she wore, although technically a high heel, were chunky and scuffed, probably something she must have bought years ago. Even in the frumpy heels, her legs went on for miles.
What a man could do with legs like that.
“Exactly how did you pay for this?” I asked Cara, hoping to redirect the thoughts in my head from the asshole in the room who was checking her out back to the asshole in the room who happened to be her boss.
“That’s where I needed a little help,” she confessed. “Since no one was around to help me figure out interdepartmental accounts, I went to Lauren Drake. She works in accounting. I think she’s a VP or manager or—”
“I know her,” I said flatly. “Go on.”
“Right,” she stuttered slightly, her eyes meeting mine for a quick second before darting away. “She helped me figure out how to charge it to the right account. And the rest is history! It took some time to get here because I had them assemble it rather than have me try. I’m horrible at that stuff. I once tried to put together an IKEA desk in college. It ended up being a botched bookshelf.” She laughed.
I just stared. “So, you decided I needed a chair—without asking me. Then, you bought something and charged it to the company—again, without asking. And you expect me to be happy?”
“Well”—her fingers nervously wrung together—“not yet. You haven’t even sat in it.”
I looked down at the chair with a heavy amount of doubt. I didn’t know how one black leather chair could possibly be any different from another, but I found myself agreeing to take it for a test drive.
She jumped with excitement, moving my chair out of the way before putting the new one into position. I would have offered to help, but I was still a bit miffed.
And if I were being completely honest?
I enjoyed watching her sexy little ass as she bent over, checking the height and removing the random sales stickers that still clung to the leather.
Yeah, I knew it; I was going to hell.
“Okay! It’s ready!” she announced, holding her hands out, as if she were one of those models on The Price Is Right.
I took a hesitant couple of steps forward before turning and lowering into the chair. An involuntary groan escaped my lips as my body melted into the plush leather back.
“See? It’s good, right?”
“Fuck, how much was this thing?” I said as my eyes closed in bliss.
My back had been in knots for weeks—a combination of stress and lack of physical movement. My body was used to moving, either from regular workouts or just the hustle and bustle of life. This solitary existence was taking its toll, and I didn’t think I’d experienced any real kind of relief until I’d slid into that chair.
“Not much, I promise. Not everything amazing has to cost a fortune,” she replied. “It’s like being hugged by the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, huh?”
I lifted one eyelid. “How do you even know who that is? Aren’t you, like, twenty?” I asked.
“Twenty-two,” she answered, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “And I watch movies.”
“I used to love that movie. All the ghosts and the green goo everywhere. Totally disgusting,” I said, my head resting against the back of the chair. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”
She smiled. “It’s because you’re finally relaxing. Maybe now you can get some work done,” she said, patting my shoulder.
She walked toward the door, taking my old chair with her.
The door clicked closed moments later, leaving me alone.
The four walls that surrounded me were completely silent.
Peace at last.
But now instead of feeling comfort, I just felt lonely. And cold.
“Who’s the girl?” the familiar voice asked as I sank into the sofa.
I’d barely made it into my apartment before my phone started ringing.
“He said he wouldn’t say anything,” I growled, rubbing my tired eyes.
“There are no secrets in marriage,” my sister-in-law scolded.
Even without seeing her, I knew she had a smile painted across that angelic face.
Lailah Cavenaugh was one of the few women to ever break through this grizzly exterior of mine and see something worth rooting for. There was a time I’d thought my brother might have been jealous of the strange relationship that had blossomed between his lovely bride and me, but now, I thought he had come to appreciate it.
Or he just liked the fact that I couldn’t drift too far away.
Lailah always made sure of that.
“I’m not sure that’s true,” I answered, hearing the faint cry of my niece in the background.
“It should be,” she responded absently. “At least for the important things.”
“And who I happen to be talking to in a private conversation is considered important to your marriage, how?”
“Well, first of all…” she began, her words muffled, as if the phone was pressed against her cheek.
She was the queen of multitasking now that the two of them had a kid, so I could only imagine what she was doing—laundry, yoga… nursing. I inwardly shuddered.
“It wasn’t a private conversation,” she reminded me. “You had Jude patiently waiting for upwards of five minutes.”
“It wasn’t that long. God, he’s dramatic.”
“And, second, you are very important to our marriage, so yes.”
I sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you and that bleeding heart of yours.”
“Hey, my heart is awesome. My cardiologist told me so. And I think you understand perfectly. You’re important because you’re family, and we love you. I know, in your own weird little way, you love us, too.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I can see that eye roll from here, buddy.”
“Is there a point to this call? ’Cause I could really use this time for much more important things,” I reminded her.
She ignored my icy demeanor, as usual.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“And I’m not going to,” I replied.
“Why?”
“Because you’re not my mother, Lailah!”
“So, if I got your mom on the phone, would you answer?”
I could hear the humor bleeding through each word.
“She’s my assistant,” I finally answered, caving to what I knew would be an endless barrage of questions ending in the same results.
“Jude said you sounded… different with her.”
“Different? What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, replaying what he might have heard while Cara had been in my office. Besides the weird comment about my childhood, which I’d said after hanging up with my nosy brother, I thought I had been fairly professional.
At least on the outside.
Inside, my head had taken a trip to the fucking strip club. And Cara had been my ultimate fantasy come to life.
“He said you were, um… nice-ish to her,” she said, phrasing each word with a bit of uncertainty.
“Nice-ish?”
“His word, not mine. But he basically said you weren’t as big of a jerk as you normally are. In Roman terms, that means you were actually kind of nice. So, this brings me back to my original question. Who’s the girl?”
“I told you! And I can be nice. I’m nice to you.”
“Yes, you are,” she said fondly. “Now, we just need to work on the rest of the world.”
There was a scuffle and a laugh, and suddenly, the sweet voice of my sister-in-law was replaced by the husky deep one of my younger brother.
“Sorry, she was taking forever, and if I had to hear her flirt with you one more time, I might have just lost my dinner.”
I chuckled silently.
“Can’t help it if your wife recognizes the true stud in the family,” I said with ease.
He, as expected, ignored my comment and proceeded to ask, “So, what my wife was trying to say is, who’s the chick, and how long have you had a thing for her?”
“Since when do you say words like chick?”
“Stalling tactics. Nice. But that shit doesn’t work with me.”
“Like I said, she’s just an assistant.”
“Picturing her naked yet?”
“For fuck’s sake!”
He laughed. “Just trying to get to the nitty-gritty here. Okay, interesting. It’s just that I’ve never heard you so worked up over another human being before.”
“The only reason I’m worked up is because it’s eight o’clock here on the East Coast, and I haven’t eaten since noon.”
“Testy.”
“I’m hanging up,” I warned him.
“Okay, but call back when you want some advice.”
“Never happening,” I growled back before hitting End on the phone.
I looked around the room, still dark from me stumbling in the door as I’d answered the phone.
Gazing out the windows, I took in the skyline of Manhattan. The lights flickered like stars from apartment buildings and late-night employees burning the midnight oil in corporate office buildings.
Life went on.
Even three thousand miles away, in a house somewhere on the beach, my brother and his family snuggled in for another blissful night together.
But, here… life stalled.
Here, it was stagnant. A void.
Just like me.
Are you proud of me, Father?
The next morning, rather than doing my usual disappearing act, I decided to try something different. If yesterday had taught me anything about Cara, it was that she didn’t handle boredom well. If I left her on her own much longer, I’d find myself with an entire office of new things.
And, as much as I was currently enjoying my new chair, I didn’t want to explain that one to the board.
Why did you spend such a large amount on an office redesign?
Well, you see, gentlemen… I got this new assistant, and she’s got this ass…
Right…
So, in the name of being an effective boss, I took one last sip of the lukewarm coffee I’d grabbed on the way in and summoned Cara.
The look on her face was priceless.
It was like a deer caught in the headlights of a semitruck. Having never actually used the intercom to speak with her, except a few phone calls that just couldn’t wait, I realized I’d probably spooked her.
Looking beyond her face though was a bad decision because the effective boss attitude I’d had vanished in milliseconds as my eyes collided with her body.
Long gone were the shabby sweater dresses and bargain-bin finds she’d been wearing ever since she started. Today, she was sleek and sophisticated in a heather-gray pencil skirt and sapphire-blue blouse. It was unbuttoned just enough that she still looked professional, but it was low enough that I suddenly found myself instinctively leaning forward.
“You asked for me?” she said, her words coming out hushed and hesitant.
I coughed quickly, desperately trying to clear my throat.
“Yes, sorry.” Why was I apologizing? “I thought it would be a good idea to continue what we started late last week and make you a bit more comfortable with my daily activities… so you aren’t stumbling around to keep busy.”
A small smile crept up her face. “That would be great. Thank you.”
“Why don’t you have a seat?” I offered, hating myself for how polite I was being.
She was my employee. A temporary one at that.
I watched her move across the space, her toned calves flexing as her hips swayed with a femininity and sexual presence she probably didn’t even realize she possessed.
I heard my brother’s voice in my head.
“Picturing her naked yet?”
I tried to think of the number of employees I’d actually visualized in my bed.
There was the blonde in accounting, who’d tried to seduce me, but I’d dealt with the likes of her before. My dick might have wanted a ride, and I might have done a cursory glance at the goods—I wasn’t dead—but that was the end of it.
Nothing more.
Cara though?
She was quickly becoming an obsession I couldn’t seem to shake, and sooner or later, I’d have to figure out why.
Only problem?
I wasn’t sure I’d like the answer.
“Do you want me to order some lunch?” Cara asked after watching me lean back in my chair, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“What?”
“Well, I noticed you never seem to eat when you’re here, and I thought it would be nice for you to actually consume food at a decent hour for a change.”
“I consume food,” I replied. “Occasionally.”
“What was the last thing you ate? And when?”
“Does coffee count?” I asked wryly.
“No!” She laughed.
“Fine. Let me think,” I began.
“You have to think? That’s a bad sign.”
“I’m a busy guy. Not all of us live such a leisurely life,” I said, grinning.
Jesus, now, I was smiling like a freaking idiot.
“With all that money you have, you should be. What’s the point otherwise?”
What was the point indeed?
“Turkey sandwich. Last night around nine o’clock,” I finally replied.
“It’s one!” she said, shaking her head. “In the afternoon. The day after!”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re going to waste away.”
“Doubtful. But I appreciate the concern. I’ve made it this far, and I don’t think I’ve wasted away yet.” I caught her eyes roam down my body for a split second before she realized what she had been doing.
“From now on, I’m going to make sure you’re fed while you are here. Lunch and dinner, if needed. This isn’t healthy,” she rambled, feverishly taking notes, as her cheeks flamed red.
I contemplated whether to argue, but I knew it would do no good.
She was on a mission now.
At least it wasn’t another chair.
I listened as she quickly and efficiently placed meal orders for the two of us. I was acutely aware of the level of professionalism she held, despite her age and lack of experience. She handled herself well, but she was extremely polite and well mannered.
Something I probably lacked.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, drawing my attention away from the monotony on my computer screen.
I looked up to find her eyes dead set on mine. It was unnerving.
She usually tried to avoid direct eye contact with me. Maybe I intimidated her. Perhaps she found me attractive, and the idea of lusting after her boss bothered her.
Believe me, it bothered me, too.
In a very physical way.
“Go ahead,” I answered, unwilling to break the intimate connection she’d started.
“When you saw me… at the club that night,” she said, her eyes wavering just slightly, “what was it you saw in me? I mean, was it just the clothes?”
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even though I’d said we’d never speak of what had happened that drunken night two weeks ago, I saw something in her eyes that said she needed an answer.
That she needed something more.
“Why are you asking?”
“It’s nothing. Sorry. I’m being stupid,” she backpedaled as she began fiddling with the hem of her skirt.
Looking back at our few interactions, I noted the difference in how she’d been acting today. Her normal never-ending stream of word vomit was there, but behind it, there was an internal struggle going on. The hemline wasn’t the first thing she’d fidgeted with. I’d watched as she pulled at the collar of her shirt, and then, as if she’d realized what she’d done was wrong, she’d quickly laid it flat again.
“Does this have something to do with the way you’re dressed today?”
Pink tinged her cheeks. “You noticed?”
I simply nodded, not trusting myself with words in that moment.
Because I’d more than noticed. It’d been damn hard not to think about anything but.
“A gift from my boyfriend,” she replied. “He said my old clothes didn’t fit in with our new lifestyle. It was a very generous gift,” she added, never forgetting that politeness she’d no doubt been taught since birth.
“But?” I questioned, waiting for her to continue.
“But… I don’t feel like me anymore,” she finally admitted.
“And I’m guessing the night in the club was another gift from him as well?”
It was her turn to nod.
I could see the indecision and worry gnawing at her. Someone like her—sweet, honest and good—was meant for better things than a life with a man who didn’t appreciate her.
Leaning forward, I made sure she saw the sincerity burning in my eyes as I spoke, “That night in the club, I’ll admit, it may have been the dress I saw first.”
She opened her lips to speak, but I held up my hand to stop her, wanting to make my point.
“And, today, when you walked in, I couldn’t help but give a second… or third glance at the way that new skirt hugged your ass.”
Her eyes widened at my blatant honesty.
“So, yes, the way the clothes clung to your body might have caught my attention for a moment or two. But every moment after that? That’s been you, Cara. All you.”
And, just like that, I’d crossed the line.
I’d hit on an employee.
And there was no going back from that.