Zoey
“I’ll need you to do some errands today,” Mr. Langley says curtly, his voice cold, as he passes my desk without looking at me.
I scramble to my feet and race in behind him. “What am I doing?”
He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it across the back of his chair. “Dry cleaning,” he gruffs as he drops into the chair. He digs through the top drawer of his desk. “Two buildings down from that, you’ll need to drop these keys to my apartment off. Ask for Theo. He knows you’re coming.” He tosses them in my direction, but still doesn’t look at me. “Also, call in lunch and dinner. I’ll be here all day and more than likely all damn night.” He shuffles some papers around.
“Okay. Anything else?” I ask.
He levels a hard glare on me. “No.”
I bite a smile even though he’s being harsh. “What about the phone? How do I field your calls while I’m gone?”
“Forward them to your cell phone,” he responds contemptuously, flicking his wrist.
Exit all my confidence and enter mortification. “I’m not sure how to do it.”
He sighs in frustration. “For now, leave them on Do Not Disturb and hurry back. I’ll show you how later.” His cell phone rings and he glances to it before dismissing me with a pointed look.
Bad days. Everyone has them.
Dry cleaning—check.
Keys to the high-class maintenance man—check.
Missing the damn train—twice check.
Lunch ordered—check. Now let’s hope he likes it since I was given no hints.
I rush back into the office and lightly tap on his door. He calls for me to enter and when I do, my chest aches at the sight. His palms are stretched out on the round table, his eyes concentrating on the papers and drawings scattered across it. His hair is disheveled like he’s run his hand through it multiple times. He looks entirely overtaxed.
“Where would you like these?” I hold up his dry cleaning.
He jerks his head. “In the closet.”
I step in and hang them, instantly embraced by the scent of him. All of him. Masculine and warm. Fresh and cool. Sexy. I close my eyes and take a deep inhale. Is it strange a cologne can make me feel exhilarating?
“Anything else?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. Thank you.”
An hour later, the delivery man drops off the food. I’m shaking like a leaf, more nervous he’s going to hate his lunch than I was when Tanya was interviewing me. I’m the person who thinks “whatever” means pizza rolls and ranch dressing, or a cheeseburger from McDonald’s. But this “whatever” is from the boss, who I’m certain has high-class taste. He’s the same man I’m massively crushing on and desperately trying to impress with great assistant skills.
“Lunch is here,” I try adding extra cheer in hopes to lighten his mood.
He’s sitting with his ankle thrown over his knee, staring at the papers in his hands. “Thank you.” He drops the documents and slides them out of the way to create a hole for him to eat from.
“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered something that always puts me in a good mood even when I’m in my worst.” I hand him the Styrofoam plate. “I hope you like Italian meatballs. If not, I can rush to the deli.” My confidence trembles slightly.
A smile finally cracks his face and I all but want to do a victory dance. “From Gustoso’s?”
“Yes. Ever eaten there?”
“Antonio is a brilliant chef,” he replies.
Relief slackens my shoulders and I beam proudly. “I agree. Is there anything else you need before I go catch up?”
He lifts a brow curiously and studies me. “Are you not taking a lunch?”
I shake my head. “My chicken sandwich will wait patiently for me.”
Disapproval makes a clear presence across the lines of his face and he pushes to his feet. He disappears into the closet and when he returns, he’s holding a plate and plastic silverware. I watch him place two of the four meatballs onto the plate and then dump half the salad beside them.
He moves more papers out of the way and shoves the plate toward me, dropping the silverware beside it. “Eat.”
I hold up my hands, shaking them. “That’s your lunch, sir. I’m fine.”
“Don’t be difficult,” he gruffs bluntly. “Sit down and eat.”
“But—”
“Sit,” he orders more sternly and I do.
He watches and waits until I take the first bite before he begins eating.
“Theo said it’ll be a week,” I inform him.
He nods like he already knew. “Thank you for running my errands. As you can tell, I’m up to my ass in work and the morning traffic would’ve set me back further.”
“No big deal.” I shrug. “I prefer early morning running opposed to evening running. The train is less busy, plus weirdos tend to take it over in the afternoon.”
His eyes snap up to me. “You took the train?”
“Yeah…” I say slowly.
“Why didn’t you drive? All the running was across town.”
I know. I was there.
“Because I don’t have a car,” I say, feeling inferior. There’s no way in hell he’s lived a day without a car or a driver. I bet a limo took him to school. “I live in walking distance of almost everything,” I add.
And the fact I had to sell it right after my ass up and left home to make ends meet. I couldn’t ask Dad for help because I wanted to prove to them that I could do this…on my own.
He shifts his view back to his food and grumbles something under his breath before speaking again. “Well, Miss Campbell, I haven’t spent much time getting to know you. So far, you live downtown within walking distance of everything, therefore you don’t own a vehicle, nor do you think about traveling. You’re an only child from Nebraska.” He glances back up, this time his lips wearing a mischievous smile. “You never told me if you like dogs.”
Him remembering anything about me shouldn’t cause my heart to swell with happiness, but it does and I can’t hide the smile.
“First, I do think about traveling. I’m just not in a position to do any right now. Second, I adore dogs, although I don’t have any. Personally, I’d love to move to the countryside and rescue fifty if I could.”
He laughs, his green irises dancing. “That’s a lot of dogs.”
“I’m a sucker for them.”
“So, you’re not a crazy cat lady?” he teases.
Playfully, I scowl. “I despise cats. I’ll be the crazy dog lady.”
He chuckles, smiling widely. “Good to know.”
A comfortable silence cascades around us as our banter dies down and we eat. I’m just about to take a bite when he speaks again.
“Be careful with him,” he says casually.
My fork stops midway to my mouth and I look to him. “Excuse me?”
“The guy you left the club with. I’ve seen him do the same routine again and again. Him and his brother. Different girls, same lines. Just be careful with him.”
I can’t believe I’m about to admit, “I went home alone.”
“Good. You don’t need to be his next tally mark,” he says, sounding like a caring asshole.
I set my fork down and sit up straight. “No offense, but I’m not sure you of all people have any room to worry about playeristic antics. Seems a little hypocritical.”
He chuckles like I didn’t just bravely take a jab at him. “You give the impression of having dignity and self-worth. I apologize if I’m wrong.”
“Don’t belittle me,” I say.
“I didn’t mean to insinuate—”
“Why would you care what I do outside of work?” I ask valiantly. Bad day or not, I’ll not be the person taking direct hits from his frustrations.
He rests back in his chair. “Because I do.” I’m stunned by the sexy grin curving his mouth. “You represent me.”
He’s got to be kidding me. Him of all people? “Sir, no matter what I do, it’ll cause no harm to your business. If your reputation hasn’t damaged anything, I’m quite sure my nonexistent one won’t either.”
I smother the gasp my words cause. I can’t believe my mouth, but I hold my ground, keeping my nervousness below my poker face.
His chuckle is playful. “I’m not what they claim in the papers or wherever else my reputation is slandered. Rumors are just rumors. Most of them false. I conduct myself professionally and give them no further thought.”
My skin is still buzzing from his gall. “No matter how dazzling your entrance, your reputation got there before you. Regardless of how you conduct yourself, a reputation like yours can influence the purest of minds.”
He chokes on his water.
Still irked, I push to my feet and flash a bitchy smirk. “Thank you for lunch.”
I leave, trembling from my courage.
The high from my brave rant dissipated several hours ago, and now I’m wrestling the feeling of being a complete bitch for taking jabs at the boss. But I couldn’t help it. Something about how he warned me of Jack pissed me off. Maybe because of the hypocrisy or the conceitedness, or the sincere care like I was his intended target for his next sexcapade.
I’m also mad and embarrassed at myself because I got happy he remembered the small things about me. It’s like my mind was poking fun at me for the numerous nights I’ve laid awake, unable to sleep, thinking of what it would be like to be with him.
After his dinner is delivered, I enter Mr. Langley’s office following a small knock. He’s in the same spot, but he looks more exhausted with disheveled hair and his tie loosened, hanging low off his neck.
“Your dinner,” I announce, lifting the bag. “It’s earlier than what I requested, so I’ll put it on the couch for when you’re ready for it. Is there anything else you need before I leave?”
He checks his watch. “Already that time,” he says as if he’s telling himself.
“Try to have a good night,” I say and exit, making my way back to my desk.
I lock my computer, grab my purse, and head to the elevator.
“I need to show you about your phone,” he says without a drop of emotion in his tone.
I wave my hand, dismissing it. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. “You don’t pay much attention to my schedule, do you?”
Shame splatters my heart across my chest.
“I’ll be gone for most of the day,” he continues. “It will only take a minute.”
My fingers tremble as I fish the phone out of my purse and hand it to him. He leads us back to his office and props his hip on the side of the desk to show me how to do it.
And, of fricking course, it’s simple as hell to forward the phones to my cell. I’m such an idiot.
“Thank you,” I say as I take my phone back. “Hope you have a great night, Mr. Langley.” I smile.
Moving to his chair, he chuckles. “It’s Easton. Please.”
First name basis. Giddiness buzzes over me. “Then please call me Zoey. I’m tired of feeling like an undereducated college professor.”
His smile is genuinely sweet, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Tell me, Zoey. What made you apply for this position?”
Dread wipes my exhilaration clean and my entire body tenses, bracing for the disciplinary actions of my jabs. “I apologize for getting curt with you earlier. I just—”
“Not being afraid to speak what’s on your mind respectfully is a good trait,” he interrupts with laughter still in his gaze.
I swallow. “I’ve worked for you for four years. I was ready to move up,” I answer.
Lines form across his forehead.
Hurt laces my laugh. “I’ve smiled at you every time you’ve walked in or out the doors and have spoken to you a handful of times. I’ve led some of your associates to the conference room, and I’ve helped the home division twice a week for a little over a year. I know I’m an asset to the company, but it’s hard to feel like it when you’re invisible.”
He looks at me. Like really looks at me.
“I know I’m still learning the ropes, but I’m a strong assistant, sir. It’ll take some time to get everything completely hammered down because you’re fleeting, but I will. I promise,” I add.
He rubs his jaw. “You moved from Nebraska and directly began working here?”
I nod. “My parents have always had to work hard. My father works in a factory, my mother a helping hand at the local library. Even at their age, they struggle to make ends meet. Our town is small without many job opportunities. I didn’t want to become a shell of nothingness. I wanted to spread my wings and build a career, so I broadened my search. I saw Langley Security was hiring. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be hired, but it was worth a shot. After two interviews, I got the job. Immediately after, I moved.”
“Do you know how to read blueprints?” he asks like I didn’t just spill my life story to him.
I shake my head. “No.”
“If you have time, set your things down and come here.”
I drop my purse on the couch. The table is chaotic and overwhelming. Large rolls of prints are splayed across it. Suddenly, I don’t feel so bold.