by S. E. Lund
"That I do, that I do. She's pretty."
"Very. Long hair. Big green eyes. Nice smile. Perky little body that a man could imagine riding him all night..." I mimed holding her nice curvy torso over my hips and moving her up and down.
"Ha!" Keith said and shook his head. "You're a goner."
I laughed. "You're an idiot."
I opened the file drawer to my desk and took out a file I needed with recent financial data.
"Haven't you got anything better to do than give me a hard time?" I asked, when he seemed unable to take a hint. "Like prepare quarterly financial reports or something?"
"Speaking of which," he said, and leaned on my desk. "We just signed a big contract for that book by former Special Agent James Arthur."
"The tell-all about his time in the FBI? Great," I said, glad to see we were signing more non-fiction book contracts. I motioned to the door. "That should keep you busy and out of my hair."
I gave him a huge shit-eating grin and he laughed.
"Make sure to introduce me to this pretty little filly you're sniffing around."
"Not likely," I replied, and opened my file. I hoped he'd take off and leave me to my work, but he was enjoying ribbing me too much to go quickly or willingly.
"I'm serious, Josh. It's good to see you smiling again. I know this year's been hard."
"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, and all that. I'm a big boy. I can look after myself."
Keith winked at me and finally left my office, leaving me alone to try to fill the rest of the afternoon with enough work to keep my mind off Ella. I wasn't sure whether she'd show up at the penthouse and would be coming to live in my apartment temporarily. I also wondered whether anything more would develop between us.
I couldn't deny that I hoped it would – and when I wanted something, I did everything in my power to make it reality.
I mentally kicked myself in the head. I would be busy as hell over the next few weeks before my trip to California, tying up all the loose ends of my work. Once I was caught up, I'd take a flight to LA and set to work getting our new office set up and start working on making contacts in LA.
I loved building things – whether it was a new business or renovating an old building. Escaping Manhattan for a few weeks in LA promised to give me exactly what I wanted – escape and something meaningful.
Keith enjoyed ribbing me about a pretty little thing like Ella tempting me to get tangled up in some new woman's life, but there was no way I was going to make that mistake again.
I might make a mistake once, but not twice.
Chapter Eleven
Ella
I went right to reception and flashed my temporary badge at the young woman sitting there, a phone to her ear. She smiled and pointed down the hall, covering the receiver with one hand.
"Sharon's waiting for you in her office. Far corner," she said quietly. Then she returned to her phone call.
"Thank you," I mouthed and followed the hallway to the door at the end. I knocked on it, noting the name tag which read Sharon Rogers, Manager, Acquisitions.
I was finally here. Sharon was real and my job was definitely real, too.
"Come in," a voice called. I recognized it as Sharon's and opened the door. Inside was an unsurpassed view of the city. Floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides of the room, a huge mahogany desk facing the door, and behind it sat my new boss, Sharon Murphy. Middle-aged, salt-and-pepper hair in a tidy bob, and thick dark-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose. She had a phone to her ear and nodded to me when I entered. She kept speaking but motioned to the chair in front of her desk.
I took it and sat down, glancing around at the office, which was huge. On the interior walls were two paintings of a rugged landscape that resembled Iceland, the hills rolling and interspaced with snow.
"Yes, we'll get right on it. I have my new assistant here and things will get right back on track. Yes, I realize that. We'll be up to speed ASAP. Thanks for your patience. Goodbye."
Sharon hung up and exhaled loudly. "Thank God you made it. I'm going a bit crazy without an assistant. It's been so long since I did any of the organizing, I haven't had anything new to offer our team for two weeks. I need you to get right onto it." She pointed to a chair by the door. On the seat was a file box and on top of the box were what looked like dozens of envelopes of different sizes and colors. Beside the chair were two other file boxes.
Queries from agents looking to sell us their client's books.
While reading mail wasn't what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, that file box made me more than happy. It meant I would be able to stay in Manhattan and get some experience.
"I can't wait to dig in," I said with a smile.
"You won't be saying that at after the first dozen. Most of them will be ho hum manuscripts, pale imitators of books already published or books too similar to ones we have already bought. When you read over the offerings, you'll start to see how the gems really stand out from the crowd. Be prepared. Only about five percent are of any real value. The rest go in the circular file."
"I live for this opportunity."
She smiled. "I felt like you do about a dozen years ago. Reading manuscripts is tiring but exhilarating when you find a real great one. I want you to spend some time reading our newest contracts so you get a sense of what we're looking for. Then we'll do some practice evaluations, and then you'll hit the box and start separating the wheat from the chaff."
"I can't wait."
"That's cute," she said and pointed to the troll.
At that point, I decided not to bother her about the money transfer, but I would tell her about being robbed. How else would I explain the troll pencil and Iron Man notebook?
"It was all I could afford to buy on my way over. I was robbed in the subway station."
"What?" Her eyes widened. "You poor thing!"
I told her about the nice old lady and her accomplice and we laughed together for a moment.
"How are you? Do you have some money?"
"No problem," I said and waved my hand. "I have a place to stay and money. No worries."
I smiled and thought about Josh, my knight in bicycle courier armor. I hoped I could trust him. He was right. My boss had enough problems without her new hire giving a sob story about having been robbed.
We talked some more about the job and what it would entail, which involved screening manuscripts and covering the ones I felt had promise and fit with the imprints. I was also Sharon's personal assistant. I'd arrange all her meetings and make sure she had everything she needed before each one. Plus, I'd bring her the manuscripts that I thought showed promise.
She seemed nice enough, if a little frazzled, but I figured it was because the company was new and the office was temporary, as the old building was under renovation. They were trying to build the business so there would be a lot of pressure in the early days to make it a success.
I was determined to impress her.
"Come with me and I'll show you your office space," she said and rose from behind her desk. She led me through the door and down the hall to a room with no door that had a desk, chair, and filing cabinet but nothing else. There was, however, a tall picture window behind the desk. The room was about one-quarter the size of her office, but to me it was heaven.
"We don't have a computer for you yet, so I hope you can use your own and your cell until we get the new phone system up and running and our new computers come. They're on order but aren't due until next week."
"Sure," I said. "I'll bring my own computer tomorrow. Until then, this will have to do."
She smiled when I held up my pencil and notebook.
"After the meeting, you can spend the rest of the afternoon reading manuscripts, so it'll be fine."
"This is all mine?" I asked, impressed at the size of the office.
"Yes. It'll be much better once the renovations are done," she said. "Now, if you wouldn't mind bringing the file boxes in here, I'll finally be able to relax wi
thout staring at them all day, wondering if there's anything of value inside but being unable to actually contact any of the agents."
"I honestly can't wait."
For the next fifteen minutes before the two o'clock meeting, I carted the boxes into my office and spent some time reading the manuscripts Sharon gave me.
Then I joined her and went into a board room where several other people were already seated, waiting for us. She introduced me to everyone, and the meeting began. I had pulled the troll off the end of my pencil and opened the notebook so that no one could see the Iron Man cover, and aside from the fact that I had no idea what I was doing, I took notes and tried to look like a professional.
The various staff members spoke about their current list of authors, and what the executive team was looking for in the coming year as far as acquisitions. I had to pinch myself to be sure I was really there, sitting in a meeting, discussing goals and targets. Sure, I was the lowest of the low on the corporate totem pole, but that was where I wanted to be.
Now, if only I could get a cashier's check for the apartment I rented to replace the one that had been stolen, and if only I could get new ID, everything would be perfect.
Except, nothing is ever perfect...
At the end of the day, I texted Josh, wondering if he still wanted to go out for dinner. I hoped so – I had called my landlady several times to no avail and I needed some place to sleep if I couldn't get in touch with her.
ELLA: Hey, Josh. Are we still on?
He texted me right back.
JOSH: Of course, we are. I wouldn’t leave you in your current predicament without making sure you at least get a decent meal. Have you been able to call your landlord and get keys to your place?
ELLA: Not yet.
JOSH: My offer still stands if you want to stay at the apartment tonight. I okayed it with the owner.
ELLA: You are way too nice.
JOSH: Not at all. Just trying to be a human being. Come on up when you're finished for the day. I'll be waiting.
ELLA: I'll be up in fifteen.
JOSH: See you then.
I smiled to myself and finished up my current coverage of the manuscript I'd selected for Sharon to review. Once I was done, I packed up and took the elevator up to the penthouse.
Unlike when I had first seen him dressed in his bicycle courier's uniform, Josh was now dressed in an impeccable slate gray business suit, with a crisp white shirt and black tie. He looked like a million dollars, his longish hair freshly washed and still damp on the ends. Same blue-gray eyes and square-jawed, trimmed-beard manliness.
God. My body did all kinds of traitorous things imagining him as a lover.
"Ella, come in," he said and opened the door wide.
I entered the penthouse, passing close to him as I did, smelling his cologne in the process. Silly girl that I am, even that sent a shock wave through me.
He smelled like... like a real man. His arms were as big as two of mine, yet his hips were narrow and his shoulders wide.
Holy hell; my body warmed just from being so close to him. If I stayed at his place for the night, how hard would it be to resist him?
Did I want to?
"I was afraid you'd change your mind," he said with a smile.
I laughed lightly. "I'm glad I didn't. You sure don't look like a bike courier."
"Oh?" he said, his eyebrows raised. "Is that a good thing or bad?"
"It's just an observation. I've only seen you in your uniform. You polish up real well."
"Thanks. I hate uniforms," he said and opened the door for me. "But sometimes you have to wear one."
He smiled and pointed to the small sofa in a seating area to the left of the desk. "Have a seat. I have to make a call, but I'll be done in a minute. Excuse me."
He left the living room and went into the back of the apartment. I heard him talking, his voice low and too soft to hear from where I sat.
When he returned about five minutes later, he pulled on his jacket. "Shall we go? I'm starved."
"Me, too." I followed him out of the apartment. His bike and helmet were by the front door, next to two other bikes. I thought it was strange that the owner of the courier business had such a beautiful apartment and let the staff use it.
"Your boss is pretty nice to let you couriers use this place. It's better than most homes I've been in."
He smiled and closed the door to the apartment behind him. "He's a pretty decent guy once you get to know him, despite the very business-like exterior."
The elevator doors opened and he ushered me inside.
"Ladies first," he said.
I entered the elevator and waited for him, holding onto the rail just in case the elevator decided to stop suddenly.
He pressed the lobby button and then turned to me, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed.
"I was serious about my offer of help. I hope you didn't hit your boss up for that cashier's check."
I shook my head. "I didn't. Honestly, you were right. I didn't want to bother her because she's in the middle of chaos right now, and helping me is the last thing she needed. Like you said, she hired me to solve her problems, not the other way around."
"Exactly. I'm glad. I'll get you a cashier's check for the rent you need tomorrow so you can pay for your new place. I've called my bank to ask about how you can get your cards replaced. They said you can come in and talk to the manager as long as you have your Social Security card, your birth certificate or passport."
"I have nothing except my Social Security card. The bank said it'll take ten days to two weeks for me to get a new credit card. I promise as soon as I get my money and ID, I'll be on my own and out of your hair."
"Don't feel you have to rush. You have enough on your plate without worrying about me."
"That's so generous," I said, taken aback by how nice he was being.
"It's the least I can do, considering how badly you've been treated by my city. Being robbed, the tiny Airbnb, and then the elevator. Plus, some crazy bicycle courier almost crashed into you..."
My chest felt tight with emotion as I realized he was my savior.
"Thank you. I was worried that I'd be stuck sleeping under a bridge after all."
"Never. It's my pleasure to help."
Of course, my mind went there, wondering if it could be – would end up being – my pleasure as well.
Then I kicked myself mentally. Don't get invested...
Thing was, he was just about the best-looking hunk of man flesh I had ever seen. He was all man, every sleek, well-muscled inch of him. It would be hard to resist if he offered or if he showed any interest, but was that getting out of the cheating-fiancé frying pan into the casual-sex-fire?
"So, let's head over to Frank's Pub and have a pint."
I couldn't help but stop, reaching out to briefly touch his arm.
"Why are you doing this?"
A second passed, the time ticking by in my head while he appeared to struggle with an answer.
"I don't know," he said finally, a quirk of a smile on his lips. "It's not like me to be nice to a stranger, but your story made me feel generous. Don't want to see you going back home the first week you arrived. Besides, it's good karma, if you believe in that sort of thing."
"You don't?"
He shrugged and when the elevator door opened, he held his arm out for me to exit. "Too many good people suffer and too many bad people get away with too much bad shit for me to believe it, but I think you have to act as if it does exist."
I left the elevator and waited for him to exit, seeing pain in his face somewhere. His smile seemed forced. Whatever the case, he was my savior; I would do my best to be an asset that he'd be glad to have around. And as soon as I could access my bank account again, I'd pay him back.
While we walked down the street to Frank's, he peppered me with questions about my family.
"I don't really like to talk about them," I said, cringing while we walked along the streets
crowded with pedestrians.
"I figured you just didn't want to admit you got robbed to them – worry them – and that was why you seemed so desperate. Usually people run home to daddy and mommy when things don't work out."
I snorted at that. "Not my father and mother. My mother's a control freak and my dad is the local Gestapo."
"He a police officer?"
"No. Let's just say that he's powerful and leave it at that."
A moment of silence passed and I glanced at him, only to see a frown creasing his brow.
"Look, he's a very important person in government. He has no idea I'm in trouble and I intend to keep it that way," I said.
"What did you say your last name was?"
"Carlson." Then I kicked myself mentally. I hoped he didn't feel like he had to call my father and let him know I was having problems.
"Carlson," he said. "From New Hampshire?"
"Yes, but I honestly want to figure this out without him getting involved."
"Okay, I promise."
"Look," I said when he stopped outside the pub. "My father is a big cheese and a very important person. I don't contact him for help because I want to be free of him. That's all you need to know about me."
"Say no more." He opened the door and we walked inside.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye, still impressed with how big and brawny and handsome he was. The way my body responded to his presence suggested I had a lot to fear from myself if he ever made any kind of advance.
Of course, the thought of him making an advance sent a thrill through my body right to my core.
God, I had to get a grip on myself...
Chapter Twelve
Joshua
Frank's was one of those hole in the wall pubs you can find down side streets in Manhattan that only the locals know about. It was busy on most nights and had a great happy hour, with snacks and cheap but good draft on tap. My staff frequented the place almost daily, after work, before a long night of meeting deadlines, or for a quick meal before going home. It felt like a second home to me, and I knew the other staff felt the same way.