Two Months Earlier

Butterflies reigned supreme in my belly.

After three interviews, and a battery of aptitude tests, I was finally going to have a meeting with the man himself—Gavin Hawthorne. Excited and with a smile stretching wide across my face, I looked up at the building and wondered how the next hour of my life was going to go.

Good. Better than good I hoped.

Gavin Hawthorne’s company occupied two floors on the 76th and 77th levels. I’d walked by the impressive structure twice a day, every day, for the last year while on my way to work.

I’d even seen Gavin once.

We’d only been maybe twenty feet apart. His tall figure had cut an impressive swath through the never-ending stream of people as he walked from the entrance to the curb and got into his chauffeured vehicle. The gleaming SUV eased into traffic another moment later. I stared after him an indecent amount of time once he was gone.

His striking features were simply perfection. Masculine yet beautiful with a strong jaw, full lips, aquiline nose, and large hazel eyes. Even in that too-quick look I could see that his body was incredibly strong with a broad back and a trim waist.

I’d quickly stomped down my awareness of him as a man. My family background was already twisted enough without me adding to it by falling in lust with Melissa’s secret son.

That was the hard line I drew in the sand and one I was determined to keep. Gavin was the beacon of all I strove to be. A mentor—even if he didn’t know it.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d imagined the weak-in-the-knees and mile-a-minute-heartbeat reaction I’d had that day just from seeing Gavin for only a few seconds.

What would it be like when I sat across a desk from him? Would Gavin’s staggeringly handsome looks knock me silly?

I’d find out sooner versus later because I was just minutes away from talking to him for my final interview. I’d already gone through his CIO, CFO, and AVP. Perhaps a bit of overkill considering the job was only temporary, but it wasn’t just any position.

It was as his assistant.

No wonder the screening process and competition was fierce. A job with Axis 3 was tantamount to writing your own ticket in this industry.

I’d cleared the hurdles and now it was down to four candidates, including myself. The only person that could get in my way was me. It was my job to guarantee that didn’t happen.

Making my way inside, I wondered for the thousandth time what I could possibly be thinking to have left my stable, if somewhat boring job, for a temporary position with a man who most likely would never acknowledge me in public much less welcome me into his office if he knew who I really was.

Actually, I was surprised I hadn’t been cut from the list by name alone.

I assumed a background check was typical when you worked in this kind of high-tech environment. I may have used my mother’s maiden name of Winters instead of my birth name once I left my father’s house, but that could easily be found out.

Part of me fully expected to be confronted once I came face-to-face with the remarkable Gavin Hawthorne.

Yeah, but it hasn’t happened yet. I’ll worry about it then.

I passed through security without a hitch. Before I knew it, I was there in the hive. Filled with a healthy mix of fresh-faced college graduates, older mid-level management, and even older executives, I could see Gavin’s Axis 3 was a stable, upwardly mobile kind of place.

They were deep into app development for a variety of markets, but mainly entertainment. Apparently there was a lot of money to be had in curing people of their momentary boredom.

Even without the lure of my curiosity, I would’ve welcomed the opportunity to test my wits and skills. Yet, I couldn’t deny a significant part of why I was here was solely because of my curiosity for Gavin Hawthorne.

Maybe it was a deep-seated defiance or the yearning for a brother-figure, but I’d been fascinated by Gavin from the first moment I’d seen his picture in my stepmother Melissa’s purse.

Frankly, I was shocked to have discovered that she’d had a child before marrying my father, Patrick Brookstone. He was so possessive of Melissa that I could barely imagine she once had an existence separate and apart from being his wife.

Sharing more in common with my father I would’ve liked, I kept tabs on Gavin throughout the years. I also had to admit I built him up in mind. When I was younger I liked to pretend that he was a benevolent force over my shoulder, encouraging me when I was down and cheering me on when I succeeded.

Now that I was out of girlhood, I realized that for all I knew Gavin would’ve been the type of stepbrother who called me an ugly brat and threw me out of his room anytime I dropped by to hang out with him.

The perfect Gavin I know in my mind would never be such a jerk. He would’ve been sweet. He would’ve protected me.

Okay, maybe I wasn’t quite ready to let that Gavin go.

What I did know for sure was that Gavin Hawthorne was intensely private but he was ambitious, independent, and most of all, fair. He sponsored several charities, including those dedicated to foster children. He wasn’t a serial dater, but the relationships that made a blip were long-term.

Which meant he knew how to commit.

Everything I’d found confirmed he was as far from an asshole as possible. Distilled even further, Gavin Hawthorne was everything I wasn’t but always wanted to be.

So when the opportunity came to work right with him, I couldn’t help myself. I had to go for it. I did what I always did when confronted with new situations. I researched and left no digital stone unturned in order to learn who I needed to be. 

I studied the company’s culture, reading every article on Axis 3. I learned all the C-Level executive names. I bought every available app released from their inception and used them until I knew each one inside and out. I stalked their social media accounts and reverse-engineered any employees I could access.

It wasn’t just about fitting into this company. It was about fitting into Gavin’s working life.

One thing I gleaned from reading precious little about the notoriously private CEO was that he admired many things, but individuality and independence above all. How was I going to stand out in place where everyone saw themselves as the ultimate ambassador of those traits?

That was rub of it. I didn’t know until after my first interview, but once I settled on my course I was there all the way.

It was in my wrapping.

Everyone at Axis 3 wore over-sized glasses, ironic t-shirts, and jeans or leggings if they were under 30. Those under 40 seemed to wear the same but paired it with a blazer and contacts instead of glasses. The others over 40 were confident in their skin and didn’t play up to current trends. They wore more formal clothes consisting of trousers, dress shirts, and the occasional tie.

I noticed that despite his age, Gavin favored that end of the spectrum.

So would I.

In fact, I was going to turn it up a notch and let my uniform be one of impeccably tailored clothes that required me to be aware of every inch of my posture and bearing, all of which was aided by rigid undergarments. I lost the caramel highlights I’d favored for the last two years, cut several inches off, and dyed my hair darker.

My matte makeup gave me a sophistication and an edge of age I generally lacked when fresh-faced. I’d always eschewed polish at my last job and kept my nails clipped. Now I was familiar with shades like “First Blush,” “Midnight,” “Scarlet Flame,” and “Moody Mauve”.

Groomed, waxed, and plucked to an inch of my life, I looked like a woman whose casual Friday meant wearing flats instead of heels. I’d spent the last week studying myself in the mirror, trying on new expressions to match the immaculate stranger staring back at me. I practiced my speech, making sure not to let my naturally soft voice make too much of an appearance.

My shell had to be perfect.  

Which also meant I’d cut myself completely out of the life I led before. I shed my social circle. Only one person seemed to notice, a sensitive and kind girl named Juliette Romano. We kept in touch via text, but eventually she’d drift away.

They always did.

Checking in with the receptionist and exchanging appropriate friendly small talk, I sat down in the empty waiting area. Nervousness dampened my palms. My legs felt warm beneath their nude silk stockings.

I was confident that my outfit was tasteful, but did I miscalculate?

I wore a pinstriped pencil skirt paired with a black silk shirt and a crimson slim belt. My feet were encased in 3 inch heels and I left my hair down but pinned back with a sparkly repurposed broach.

Would Gavin find it hopelessly stuffy or would he see it as a sign of high maintenance?

It was entirely possible I was completely wrong in my approach. Gavin may have been formal and self-contained, according to the scant reports I uncovered, but that didn’t mean he wanted to work with a mirror image.

It was too late to second-guess myself. Especially when I heard my name being called.

“Ms. Winters?”

I looked up. Gavin had come to fetch me himself. I hadn’t even heard him come in, but I wasn’t just surprised.

I was knocked silly.

Not only was Gavin insanely handsome up close, but he had a soft but deep voice that flowed over every one of my senses and alternately excited and soothed them.

And just with two words.

My name. The one thing that could make this all stop.