Chapter Four
In spite of everything, Ian half expected Hazel to appear at the office wearing some flowy sundress and black boots. Or a romper with daisies on it, paired with socks that had cats on them. Nothing he’d seen from Hazel so far had prepared him for the moment his secretary Vicki had brought Hazel to him wearing a tailored suit with impeccable black pants and a blazer. The blouse underneath strained slightly against the buttons over her breasts, but the overall look was the least nonsense Ian had ever seen her in. He would have been less surprised to see a young aspiring CEO walking, thusly dressed, into his office.
“Miss Greenwood here to see you, sir,” Vicki said as she opened the door, echoing her announcement from a few minutes prior—when she’d asked him what to do with the new intern who said she was here to meet him.
Ian’s eyes drifted to the few stray curls at Hazel’s neck that had escaped from the clean bun she’d pinned her hair into. “Thank you, Vicki. Hazel, if you would like to have a seat?”
He gestured in front of him, expecting her usual nervous fumbling, but Hazel approached his desk calmly and took her seat without any stammering or sweating.
“Good morning, Dr. Cartwright. I dropped my HR packet off with Helen. She said that she’d let me know if there were any other signatures she needed. So I should be ready to go,” Hazel said in an even, bright voice.
“Indeed. What do you think of our office here?” Ian asked.
Hazel looked around, arching a brow like it hadn’t occurred to her that the walls were there, and shrugged. “It’s a very comfortable space, for a corporation. More windows than I would have guessed.”
“Exactly.” Ian bobbed his head. “The construction of the building does as much to create your work atmosphere as any initiative you put into effect.”
“True. Unfortunately, literal beggars can’t be choosers. In some nonprofits, we’ll take what we can get.” Hazel smiled. “Are you the one who chooses what the building will look like?”
“Hm.” Ian shook his head. “No, I delegate that. However, I do give directions down the line regarding what I expect from each branch of my business.”
Hazel nodded. She reached into her bag and took out a notepad. “What’s first for today? Do you just want me to shadow you? Do you want me to get on the research? Or do you have something else you want me to get on?”
Ian’s lips curled, though there was no way that she associated her words the way he had. He recalled his fantasies wherein she would shed her clothing and ride on his throbbing erection like her life depended on it. Or she would fall back against his desk, letting him squeeze her plump breasts underneath that prim dress shirt…
“Sir?”
“Right. Well, I have meetings starting at nine, so why don’t you shadow me for the morning, and then we’ll sit together for lunch and discuss where I want you to start with your research?”
“Sounds good. Would you like some coffee while you prepare for the meeting?” Hazel offered.
“You’re not here to get me coffee, Hazel,” Ian replied, a bit amused.
“Well, I could use some, and I thought it would be polite to share.” Hazel rose and smiled at him impishly.
Ian leaned back in his chair and folded his hands. He quite liked this side of her. Confident, coy… maybe even a bit playful.
“I’ll take it black, then. Vicki will show you where it is.”
Hazel winked and pointed her left hand like a gun as she walked out the door. Ian couldn’t help but laugh. She was so unlike any of the other women in his life. Sure, his female colleagues have that spirit of strength, and some of the women he took home had that vulnerability, but few were so different from moment to moment. Her nervous schoolgirl routine had been delightful, but the way she could change on a dime made her ever so much more intriguing.
Hazel was a mystery, a tangle of complications, his to unravel. And now that she worked for him, he would have the time, and the access, to do so.
***
After each meeting, Ian found himself bombarded with Hazel’s salient questions about practically every facet of the meeting. He’d never heard her talk so much. It was a stark contrast to the meetings themselves, during which she had been silent, and the classroom, during which many of her comments were made from indignation rather than a spirit of inquiry.
Hazel had definitely decided that she was going to suck the marrow from this opportunity.
“Okay, okay.” Ian held up a hand as they entered his office. “Let’s put this on hold for now? I had lunch delivered.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said halfheartedly.
It only took him a moment to intuit, as she was eyeing the food laid out at the seating area to the far side of the office, beyond his desk and the conference table, that she suspected he would have ordered nothing she could actually eat. He felt a bit smug knowing that he’d exceeded her expectations.
“Have a seat.” Ian set his tablet on his desk and went over to take a seat on a plush, stark white chair. The coffee table was surrounded by them, a cozy respite in their Spartan surroundings.
Tentatively, Hazel came to sit on the loveseat opposite of the seat he’d chosen.
“I’m glad you’re such a go-getter. I wasn’t sure how you’d do in a real work environment.”
“I’ve had jobs since I was twelve.” Hazel shrugged and reached for a drink.
“Twelve?” Ian looked at the stacked salads and set one in front of her.
“Babysitting. I started with my little brothers and branched out to the neighborhood kids.” Hazel inspected the Brussel sprout salad with cranberries and pecans, and her brows rose as she realized that there was no meat tainting her food. “Maybe I could consider dealing with Hawk as practice for toddlers.”
Ian speared his salad. He’d ordered his with grilled steak and hoped she wasn’t the kind of vegan to lecture others. “One of your brothers is named Hawk?”
“Hawthorne. My twin brother. The little ones are Basil and Briar.”
“Your parents liked nature?”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “In theory, maybe. As a theme. They really aren’t that interested in the environment or even hiking. But I tell Mom that it’s her fault I’m an activist because she named me after a shrub.”
“So they aren’t as interested in social justice and charity as you are?”
“God, no. It’s lucky I have an academic scholarship. I’ve been working all around the university since the day I stepped on the campus.” Hazel shook her head. “But they’re lucky because Hawk didn’t even bother with a real university. He took some classes at a community college and then bailed for a coding boot camp.”
“That’s not a terrible idea. A lot of IT jobs prefer applicants that have just come from boot camps to those who spent time at a university. Tech changes so fast that a four-year degree can mean they learned last year’s code.”
“It would be a good idea, if he had a job. Instead, he lives at home and wants to make video games.” Hazel wiped her mouth and shrugged. “And even that would be okay, if he could ever finish one. It’s easier than ever to get your own indie stuff out there. He could do it if he ever had the motivation.”
Ian nodded slowly and watched her face. She seemed disappointed, and a bit frustrated.
“I can’t say that I have similar experiences,” Ian said. “I’m an only child.”
“Not a thing in my family.” Hazel chuckled. “Even my mom has a twin sister.”
“I was always jealous of other children who had siblings, of course. But I was able to spend more time with my father. He and I were close. He brought me along to his business quite often.”
Hazel set her plate down. “Is that how you got your start?”
“Absolutely. I talk about it in my first memoir Little Man, Big Deal. He gave me a small loan when we sold the old business, which started out as a transactional holdings company…” Ian trailed off. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?”
“It’s not that I don’t care.” Hazel bit her lower lip. “I read it, actually. I have Kindle Unlimited and looked at it over the weekend.”
“You read it in a weekend?” Ian narrowed his eyes.
“I read fast. I also read the two business books of yours available at Barns and Noble while drinking a latte on Sunday.” Hazel shrugged. “They weren’t difficult reads, though, so it’s not as impressive as it sounds.”
Ian frowned. “I’m not sure how I should feel about that.”
“I dunno. I guess you should feel glad? It means your ghostwriter is making everything very clear. I don’t think they have the amount of complexity and detail you can give face-to-face, but if they did, I doubt they’d be bestsellers.” Hazel crossed her legs toward Ian. “That’s the struggle real academics face, anyway. They can make things so much more nuanced, but then it’s harder to read, and people won’t slow down to get the point. Unless they’re academics, too, which substantially narrows your reach as an author.”
“I was prepared to be offended when you said I wasn’t a real academic, but I think you do have a good point. We always sell well, but they don’t always gain the critical reception that we hope for. Let me get my tablet, and we’ll go over the basics of this book project.” Ian rose and fetched both his and her tablets. “It’s a good thing you read fast.”
“I’m not sure my course load would be feasible if I didn’t.” Hazel took her tablet from him and began swiping rapidly.
Ian watched her for a moment before bringing up the early planning documents for the upcoming book. When he’d offered her the co-authorship, he hadn’t counted on her having a critical perspective on how he might improve his books. She was more than he’d bargained for, and he was loving it.
***
Hazel walked out of the Cartwright & Benton building with her head full. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but what she’d gotten was a morning so packed with information that she was going to have to take some time to decompress. Unfortunately, she had to get to her second job at the grocery store in fifteen minutes.
She unpinned her hair at the lights so she could pull it into a standard ponytail. It wasn’t good to be too dressed up at the store. They had a few regulars (usually men older than Dr. Cartwright) who took any form of politeness as a come-on, and she didn’t want to encourage their weirdness any further.
While Hazel restocked produce, she ran over the areas she would need to research in her head. Since she would be on campus tomorrow, she could spend her time at the library getting started. Students sometimes came by her desk for directions, but they didn’t usually need that much help—since a lot of students just looked for sources through the online databases these days. To be honest, she loved searching for sources. It was the beginning of every project for school and every self-improvement effort she came up with on her own. The spirit of finding things out had always driven Hazel. When she was a kid, she’d take home school library projects so she could go to the real library and write a better report.
But one couldn’t just research for a living. Hazel wasn’t good enough at the sciences to really make a difference there, and sitting around in a library didn’t pay the bills or change the world. She got so overwhelmed sometimes, but she had to remain focused.
By the time she got off around 10:00 pm, Hazel felt both exhausted and wired. With so much bouncing around in her head, and a full day of jobs, she knew she could fall right into bed and be asleep before she pulled up her blanket. Unfortunately, her Poli-Sci professor had emailed them a new reading that day. She climbed up to her apartment, fumbled with her keys, and dragged herself into the messy living room and fell onto the couch. She pulled out her tablet to open up the reading.
Why couldn’t her professors be more on the ball? Hazel blinked sleepily. She was so tired. She’d been up since 6:00 am. She also hadn’t eaten since that salad amazing salad with Dr. Cartwright.
“God, I’m hungry. But I don’t want to get up.” Hazel sighed and dropped her head against the armrest. She closed her eyes for a moment.
“You’re so well-versed in the genre,” Cartwright’s voice had said warmly.
Hazel ought to be beyond this. Her exhaustion was no match for the feeling of excitement and pride inside of her. It was so much better getting along with Cartwright, earning his praise, and showing him how capable she could be. It left her feeling like she could do anything.
Distracted now, Hazel got onto the library website and started looking up what the library had on industrial and organizational psychology. If she could get Cartwright a good annotated bibliography on this aspect of business mentorship (which he would definitely find too boring to look up), they could be talking about how the research matched his years of experience by next week.