Monday morning rolls around, and before I know it, I’m walking through the door to the HR department. Paige is already there to greet me. She holds the door to her office open and points to the chair.
“Good morning, Bridget. Glad you came back.” She beams.
“I’m here and ready to go,” I assure her with a smile.
“Right, hmm, let me see,” she says while she riffles through some pages on her desk. “Ah, yes, here we go. Okay, so you were supposed to be in the HR department, but there’s been some changing in personnel, and our COO requested that you be moved up to help on the top level.”
“Top level?” I’m not sure what that even means.
“You’ll be filling a position as an executive assistant in top-level corporate. It’s quite a jump, but you seem the sort of woman who can handle that beautifully.”
I do? I wonder if Paige is perhaps mistaking me for someone she spoke to in more depth. I doubt my résumé makes me suitable for such a position. Perhaps I should say something, but I don’t have the time as Paige is already standing and directing me where to go. I look behind me and see that another woman is waiting to meet with her.
“O-Okay. Thanks, Paige. Anything I should know before I go up?”
I’m sure there’s a whole manual of shit I should know, but they’ll soon find out how unqualified I am to temp in the hotel much less for C-suite. I do quick work of smoothing out my skirt, hoping like hell I don’t look like the mess I feel right now.
“They’ll run through everything with you when you get there. Have a great day, and welcome to the team.”
Her words don’t do anything to soothe my unease, but I plaster on my fakest smile and move toward my new job. The whole way to the top floor I rein in my fidgeting and work on my breathing. I can do this. I’m Bridget fucking Miller, and I can do this. I keep repeating the mantra, hoping like hell it’ll stick by the time I get there. Once I make it to the stairs, I’m already more relaxed.
I find the door with ease and smooth out my outfit one last time. You can do this. I straighten my spine and knock.
“Come in,” a gruff male voice commands from the inside.
I open the door, and the world tilts. The floor falls out from underneath me, and I can’t contain the gasp that slips through my lips when I spot the man sitting behind the big wooden desk.
Grant.
Looking even sexier than the other night . . . when he left me . . . alone . . . in a dark alley. Asshat. Oh my God . . .
This can’t be right. Only it can.
It so. Goddamn. Can.
Grant. Grant Lancaster. Grant-Fucking-Lancaster. Oh, my God.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he scuffs.
“I . . . I work here.” For several seconds, I stand there, openly staring at him while he stares back. My mouth is agape, and his is pressed into a hard, disapproving line. He clearly had no idea either.
“How did you get up here?” he demands.
“Paige sent me up from HR. She said I was to report here.”
Grant picks up a folder and opens it. His lips pinch tightly. “Bridget Miller,” he reads. “There’s no way in hell this is happening. You can’t work for me.”
My stomach sours on multiple levels. The contempt in his voice has me feeling so small and pathetic. The look he gave me back in the alley floods my memory, and I feel like I could be sick. It’s not bad enough that he humiliated me that night, but he’s treating me like trash he discarded on the side of the road.
How did this happen?
How did I not recognize him?
How did I not know he was the Grant Lancaster?
“Please go back down to Paige and tell her I’ve discharged you. I’ll write a decent exit letter for you, but you have to go.”
“You kissed me,” I say, because in truth I don’t know what else to say. I’m numb. Between his attitude and the fact that yet another freaking job seems to be going down the drain, I want to crawl into a ball in the corner and cry.
Grant’s eyes widen, his brows furrowing in confusion and then anger. “For God’s sake, close the door behind you. Do you really want everyone listening in on our conversation?”
I quickly shut the door and then sit in the chair opposite his desk. He glares at me, and I wonder briefly how he manages to remain so good-looking when he’s so angry. And how, at a time like this, I can think about how good-looking he is. But how can I not? In the light of the day, he’s even more perfect than he was on Thursday. In this light, I can see the green of his eyes. They’re the green of sunlight on grass after the ice has thawed. Mossy and overgrown. Begging to be cared for. Or maybe the green of a tropical ocean during a storm. Troubled and reckless.
Shaking my head, I pull my gaze away from his hypnotic eyes only to have it land on his mouth instead. His lips. His lips are temptation and sin. They bring back a stream of memories of how they felt pressed against mine. Of how he tasted as he devoured me. Fuck. They make me want to lose myself in him all over again. I have to break away. Look somewhere else. My eyes focus out the window at the giant skyscrapers across the street from our building.
“Why are you still here?” he grates, pulling me out of my thoughts. Our gazes collide. His eyes are almost closed. They appear cold, hard . . . far away. But as far away as he seems, his stare still burns me as if I’m his enemy. As if I’ve done this on purpose.
Not knowing what to do, I stay seated. Rooted in place. Completely frozen. Finally shaking my head once, I will words to come out of my mouth. “Maybe it’s because I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m confused. Or maybe it’s because I need this job. Take your damn pick,” I spit harshly.
“Did you know who I was all along?” he hisses.
“What?”
“At the lounge. Did you know it was me?” The words lash out and make me recoil. “Did you know who I was and that you were going to work for me, so you decided to flirt with me?”
“No.” I feel anger bubbling in my chest, simmering quietly, but steadily, as the implication of what he is saying hits me. “I didn’t.”
“You clearly knew who I was. I can see it all over your face.”
His harsh words and cold demeanor have me forgetting all about our time together. Right now I just want to slap the arrogant ass upside the head. “You have a very high opinion of yourself, Mr. Lancaster. Not everyone wants to snag a tycoon brother with a family that keeps the majority of New York’s local tabloids alive.” I roll my eyes, sarcasm oozing from every pore of my body.
“But yet just the other day you were panting all over my hand, asking me to fuck you,” he lashes out.
I’m too shocked to speak, my mouth hanging open, unable to form words.
“You’re just like all the other women. You knew it was me, so you tried to seduce me to get what you wanted. You use people for their money. You use people to get ahead in your life while you sit back and do nothing.” His vile words snap me out of my stupor.
“Have you lost your mind?” I yell. “You are the one who kissed me, remember? I hardly even registered your existence. You offered me a drink. You took me out. You kissed me in a goddamn dumpster—thanks for that, by the way, way to boost a girl’s ego. This is all on you.”
Grant pulls at his hair, clearly frustrated. “As far as I’m concerned that night never happened. Do you understand?”
“I couldn’t care less. That’s a night I’d rather forget.” The lie tastes sour on my tongue. “For the record, I didn’t ask to be your assistant. I’m barely getting paid for this. I’m just a temp, and this is only to build my résumé so I can get a job worth having.”
“So The L isn’t good enough for you?” he sneers.
“Right now no. You’re making it damn difficult for me to actually do my job. This was just assigned to me. Paige sent me up here herself. She said they’re desperate, so when I quit in five minutes, you can deal with that shit show.”
“You expect me to believe this is some ridiculous coincidence?”
“To be honest, I don’t give a damn what you think. At this point, I’m pretty sure you’re certifiable, and I don’t have time for this.” I turn to stalk out when his words stop me short.
“Stay.”
Is this man on drugs? Between his insults and accusations, the last place I want to be is anywhere near him, but I stop despite my better senses. “Why? Tell me why I should stay to listen to anything you have to say.”
“I just need to figure this all out. You’re right, we are desperate for help, and Paige might kill me if I release yet another assistant.”
I huff. “So you make a habit of pissing people off.”
He lifts up his hand to stifle a long, drawn-out groan. “You’re just like my wife. No wonder you’re driving me insane.”