by Alina Jacobs
"I'm so sorry," Donna apologized. It took her, me, and Adrian several minutes to peel Henry off of me. I had to pry each of his fingers out of my hair, all while he screeched in my ear.
My ears were ringing when they finally left.
"My apologies." I checked my watch. "The schedule has a break now anyway. This PowerPoint will be emailed to everyone." Annoyed that the timetable had been disrupted, I walked over to the table and grabbed a bottle of water.
Through a mouthful of cookies that he procured from who knew where, Liam said, "Thank God for the interruption. You really outdid yourself. That has to be the worst presentation you ever gave. I particularly liked it when each letter of 'research and development' came in like a hail of bullets."
Garrett snickered. Then he and Greg exchanged a look.
"I'm going downstairs to check on Henry," I said, scowling at my brothers. "I'm sure he needs his clothes at least."
Greg followed me as I walked through the office. "What are you plotting?" I demanded, picking up Henry's pants. "It better be about finding me help with the kids. I'm the only person who cares about them."
"You're hardly the only pillar holding this family together," Greg retorted.
"Yes, I am! Hunter was supposed to help, and he's never here. He's off running his latest scheme. None of you guys who live in Manhattan ever show up to help. And now you and Garrett are plotting something."
"I don't plot," Greg said, picking up Henry's shoe.
"Garrett plots."
"Garrett has expressed concern about your mental health."
"My mental health?" I snarled at him. Greg raised an eyebrow.
"My company is doing great. We're branching into a new sector. We've never been more profitable. Tell Garrett my mental health is fine. You know how he is when he starts fixating on something. I don't want to be his target." I found the rest of Henry's clothes behind a plant.
Greg followed me down to the daycare to return the clothes. "I know you need help," Greg said, "so I have a surprise for you."
"I don't like surprises," I said as we cut through the lobby to go back upstairs to the conference room. But Greg stopped in the middle of the atrium.
"I know that. That's why I wasn't going to tell you. I hired you an assistant. She was supposed to be here by now, though." He looked around the lobby.
"That's a good sign," I said with a sigh.
5
Josie
I woke up to my phone blaring.
"Marnie?" I answered, yawning.
"Where are you?" my friend yelled into the phone. "It's almost ten a.m.!"
"Oh crap!"
I raced around the tiny house, grabbing my things. As I shuttered the windows, I felt my shirt pull, and I heard a rip as my blouse caught on a nail someone thought would hold a cute knickknack.
"Why is this happening to me?" I shouted. I was late to my new job. Not just a little late—I was a lot late. And now I had to change; I couldn't show up in a ripped shirt. I pulled it off and then saw my bra had a huge hole in it too.
"Screw you, tiny house!" I yelled as I dumped my entire suitcase out on the floor. Pawing through it, I grabbed the lacy bra I never wore, which usually sat at the bottom of my pile of clothes. Then I hurriedly buttoned up a new blouse.
I ran outside just as the first few drops of rain hit me in my face.
"You were supposed to get it together!" I said, cursing my terrible life skills. It started pouring rain, and I pulled and twisted at the trailer hitch. I couldn't decouple the tiny house from the truck.
"Fine! You're coming to work with me," I told the tiny house and jumped into the truck cab.
I prayed as the engine turned over and over then cheered when it started. I could barely see through the rain as I trundled out of the parking lot and onto the main road that led up to the Svensson PharmaTech factory. My heart was pounding. I couldn't get fired on my first day. Surely they would give a girl some leniency.
"What the—" I muttered as a car came down the street directly at me. "Why are you in my lane?" I yelled at the headlights. As I approached them, a train horn blared, and the huge diesel train engine loomed in front of me.
"Crap! Crap!" I swerved, and in the rearview mirror, the tiny house fishtailed behind me, barely clipping the train that was barreling down the middle of the street.
The logo on the train cars said Svensson PharmaTech.
"What kind of company lets their train run down the middle of the street?" I shrieked, my breath fogging up the window. I rubbed at it with my sleeve, but it didn't help.
"Can't stop! Just keep moving!" I sang to myself off-key.
Today was supposed to be the first day of the rest of my life, and here I was late, dripping wet, and almost killed by a train. At least the adrenaline surge seemed to have chased off any lingering hangover.
I was shaking when I finally made it to the PharmaTech offices. They were a series of beautiful glass buildings set up on a hill overlooking Harrogate. I didn't have time to admire the picturesque scene; I was late. I parked the tiny house way in the back of the parking lot—the only place I could get enough space—grabbed my bag, and sprinted through the freezing rain to the front doors.
Wrenching the glass door open, I ran in and promptly tripped over the floor mat and landed on the floor.
"Oof!" Thankfully, my bag took the brunt of the fall. I jumped up, hoping no one saw me face-plant. Two tall blond guys in suits looked at me in shock as I dusted myself off and looked around, pretending like I didn't just face-plant in front of them. The lobby was gorgeous. There were actual live trees among the white terrazzo floor and warm wood accents highlighting the glass elevators and open stairs that crisscrossed the large atrium.
The men approached me. They looked almost identical.
"Hey," I said, trying to ignore the throbbing in my knee. "I know you! I poured chocolate sauce on you in the vegan restaurant, remember? I guess you're just so hot women just drop to their knees in front of you."
The Chad Michael Murray look-alike seemed horrified.
"Can't stop and flirt!" I said, trying not to shake from the adrenaline. "I'm very late for my first day on the job. You know how that is." I hobbled over to the reception desk.
"I'm here to meet Mace Svensson," I told the woman in a rush. I could feel the water from my hair dripping down my face into my already-soaked shirt. "Just, can you not call him yet? I need to go to the restroom and get myself together. You wouldn't believe the day I had!" I laughed loudly. The receptionist looked at me wide-eyed.
Maybe this place wasn't all that friendly.
The receptionist slowly pointed to the men behind me. "That's Mr. Svensson there." I turned around. The hot guy from the vegan café was still in the same spot, along with his doppelgänger, watching me.
"I see," I said, turning back to the receptionist. "Well. Thank you for your time."
Squaring my shoulders, I marched back over to the men.
"I'm Josie," I said, holding out my hand. "I believe you're my boss."
I saw Mace's eyes flick down to my chest then immediately back up. He ignored my outstretched hand.
I looked down at my chest. Through my soaking-wet white blouse, I could see my also white lace bra, and through that I could see, well, not everything but a lot.
"As you can tell," I said, gesturing to the rock-hard nipples that were outlined through the wet fabric, "I am very excited to work here."
6
Mace
"This is not going to work," I hissed to Greg while we waited for Josie to dry off.
"Nonsense," Greg retorted. "Marnie recommended her. You know Marnie is a great assistant. Besides, we don't have the best track record of keeping people employed for our family, what with our obnoxious little brothers. If she doesn't run off screaming the first time you ask her to babysit, she's a keeper!"
"She's a stranger," I said flatly. "There's no way I'm leaving any of the kids with her."
"Fine," Greg said. "But be nice."
I looked over at the carpet where she had tripped. I had already called the facilities manager to deal with it. "What if she had broken her neck? She could sue us."
"You always overreact," Greg said with a snort. "You need to relax. That's why I hired an assistant for you. She'll help make your life easier."
Josie came out of the restroom. She was wearing a PharmaTech T-shirt. "Don't worry," she said. "My bra is still on under here."
Greg handed Josie a packet. "All the company information along with your email login and server access is here. Also, here's a phone."
"Sweet!" she said, taking the phone. She immediately dropped it.
Greg sucked in a breath. "I guess I'll leave you two to it," Greg said after a moment. Josie scrambled to pick up the phone. The screen was shattered.
I scowled at the girl. She already ruined one day of my life. Was she going to ruin the next week, the next month? Exactly how long did Greg expect her to stay here?
"So," Josie said, following me up the stairs to my office, "what do you need assistance on?"
"Nothing. I'll have to give you to Tara. She'll find something for you to do."
"So, what is it you guys do here, and why does it involve running a train down the middle of the street?" she demanded.
I turned around, my eyes narrowed. "The pharmaceutical products we make need raw materials brought in, and the finished product is shipped out by train. I picked this location because it already had the active rail right of way. It's one of the things that make us logistically competitive."
"The train almost killed me. There weren't any gates or anything!" she said loudly.
"Everyone else in this town manages just fine," I retorted, not bothering to hide my irritation.
She gave me a dirty look.
"This building is for research and development," I told her as we continued the tour.
"So was that other tall, good-looking blond guy your brother?" she asked, interrupting me.
"Half brother," I corrected.
"Dad got around, huh?"
"That's not any of your business." When I got to the fifth-floor landing, I turned to watch her stagger up the stairs. "I don't know what you heard about this job description, but you are my assistant, which means that you are here to make my life easier not more difficult."
"Uh-huh," she said. "Give me a minute. I need an energy boost." She took a small bag of pink-and-white candy out of her purse, opened it, and put three pieces in her mouth. I shuddered.
"This office is healthy food only," I admonished, plucking the bag out of her hand.
"I was eating that!" she protested as I crumpled the candy bag in my hand.
"There are healthy snacks and water in the breakrooms. There's one on every floor," I said as I ushered her to the large white kitchenette.
Josie picked up a packet from the basket on the counter. "Seaweed?" she said, wrinkling her nose.
"It's good for you. It contains antioxidants."
She opened the package, sprinkling seaweed crumbs all over the floor. "Oops! I guess I'll clean that up." She looked around.
"Just leave it," I ordered and texted facilities. Then I texted IT to bring a new phone.
We stopped outside the large conference room where we were having the presentations for Platinum Provisions. I texted Adrian to come out.
"Oh my God!" Josie exclaimed, looking into the room through the glass walls. "There are more of you! How many kids did your father make?"
About a hundred, but I didn't want to go into that with her.
Archer followed Adrian out, and Josie looked between Archer and me.
She did the double take everyone did when they saw us together.
"I'm the more attractive twin," Archer said.
"Clearly!" Josie told him. I scowled.
"Adrian, this is Josie. She's going to be doing things like serving coffee and making copies. Send her an email with a list of your duties. I'm putting you on the big marketing team. You'll be working with Tara, making sure she and the consultants have all the information they need."
He nodded enthusiastically. "I won't let you down!"
"You better not. This is an important campaign. I'll be working closely with you, so don't get too cocky. I'll be back down in a second after I introduce Josie and Tara."
IT met us in my office and swapped out Josie's phone.
"Don't drop this one," the technician said, handing it to Josie. We looked up when Tara walked in.
"Mace," she gushed. She was the marketing director, but she always volunteered to do things for me that were outside of her job description. I had gone for one drink with her, and now she was there any time I turned around. At least now I could pawn Josie off on her.
"This is my new assistant, Josie," I said. Tara's smile seemed a little strained. "Tara is our marketing director."
"Nice to meet you," Josie said, extending her hand.
"Maybe you can find her something to do?" I said to Tara.
"Anything to help," she purred, lightly touching my arm.
I hurried back to the conference rooms. I had the rest of the Platinum Provisions meetings to get through. And I had completely missed Garrett's presentation, thanks to Josie. On the way I looked out over the parking lot. There were pristine rows of expensive cars. But in the back of the lot, I saw a rust-bucket pickup truck attached to a tiny house that looked like it was listing. The contraption was taking up about eight parking spaces.
I had a sinking feeling it belonged to Josie.
7
Josie
"You didn't have anything else to wear?" Tara asked, thinly veiled distain on her face.
"I'm showing team spirit! You know—being a wonderful member of the PharmaTech family," I replied.
Tara blinked at me. She was wearing high-designer clothes with these yellow suede ankle boots that I coveted.
"It was raining, and my shirt was wet and white and see-through," I explained. "I think it made Mace a little too excited."
"Don't talk about him like that," Tara snapped at me. "Mr. Svensson is a great man, and you can learn a lot from him. This company is innovative and groundbreaking. It's a wonderful place to work."
I made a noncommittal noise and nodded. Tara made Svensson PharmaTech sound like a cult. I guess she and I weren't going to be friends after all.
"You need to take this job seriously," Tara continued, flipping her straight, glossy hair over her shoulder.
"I thought all I was doing was making coffee and sending emails!" I joked.
"Which is an integral part of our operations," she said. "There's a lunch order coming in for the Platinum Provisions meeting. You can set that out. It should be here soon."
I saluted.
"That office adjacent to Mace's is the assistant's office," Tara said, pointing. "Mace is a very private person, so stay out of the way."
I sat down at the desk and spun around in the chair to look out of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The view was pretty nice. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
"So, what should I do until lunchtime?" I asked Tara. She looked down at me, her nose twitching slightly.
"Check your email inbox. I'm not your supervisor. I'm the director of marketing. I only helped you because Mace asked me to, and I like to make things easier for him." She turned on her heel and left the room. I watched her pause by the coatrack and stroke Mace's coat. Weird.
I logged on to the computer. Sure enough, the inbox was filled with unread messages. "I don't even know how to do half, okay basically all, of what is here," I mumbled and rested my head on my hand as I scrolled through the email inbox.
There were hundreds of requests wanting me to file expense reports, send some documents through a courier service, and help with booking hotels for a conference. Was there a company credit card for that sort of thing?
I leafed through the folder Mace's brother Greg had given me, hoping to find answers. But it only contained a floor plan of the
office along with a horribly designed brochure about the company with terrible copy that I itched to fix. I wondered if it was Tara's work. If so, they needed a new director of marketing.
Another email came in demanding that I replenish the supply of VitaMeal drinks. I slammed the laptop shut and tried to resist the urge to walk out of the building back to my tiny house.
"I need this job. I need this job," I chanted to myself as I opened up the laptop and began responding to emails. I'd only been here a few hours. Why were all these people complaining to me?
On a hunch, I scrolled down, down through the emails. Then I saw it—an email from Tara to the entire office with my name and an unattractive picture of me looking like a half-drowned rat. The email told everyone that I would be happy to assist with any task, no matter how small. Great.
My phone rang, and I almost dropped it, banging my arm on the corner of the desk in the process.
"I hate this office," I hissed, rubbing the spot. It was a little softer and fleshier than I would have liked.
"The sandwich order is here!" said Tara through the phone. I hustled down to the lobby, picked up the bags of wraps, went back upstairs to put together a tray of drinks, and then hauled it all to the conference room.
I waited until the presenter finished and slipped inside. The tray of tea and coffee rattled in my hands as I pushed through the door. Mace walked up to the podium and opened a presentation. I could feel his eyes on me as I set out the lunch items.
There was a table in the back of the room, and I tried to keep from shaking as I laid out the food. If I was being honest, I was too nervous, frazzled, and messy to be an assistant. I was a creative writer and a graphic designer. Put me in charge of a big marketing project, and I was in my element.
I was disorganized on a good day. Now I was being paid to organize Mace's schedule. The billionaire was standing up at the front of the room, droning on about medical devices. Tuning him out, I mentally fantasized about taking the tiny house out into the middle of nowhere and defaulting on all of my debt. But I didn't think the truck could make it that far, and I didn't know if the tiny house could survive a Midwest winter.