by RB Hilliard
“Please, call me Cat,” I said, right as the door closed and the lock clicked behind it. Okay, maybe his manners aren’t that good after all, I thought.
With keys and folder in hand I opted for the stairs over the elevator and made my way upstairs to Apartment C. Before going in I pulled out my phone and texted Blake to let him know I had arrived at Riverbend. Then I opened the door to my new home and walked inside.
“Oh my gosh!” I loudly whispered.
The first thing that caught my eye was the color of the walls. At first I thought they were grey but when the light hit just right I realized they were more silver. Whatever the color, it was beautiful. The ceilings had to be at least ten feet tall and I almost squealed when I noticed the same crown molding as Zane’s place. The living room and dining room were merged into one large space. On either end stood floor to ceiling windows encased in what looked like plantation shutters. The floors were hardwood, like Zane’s, only lighter in color. First chance I get I am going rug shopping. Off of the dining room stood a door and in the very back corner of the living room was another. Since I was closer to the living room I headed through that door first and found myself in a small hallway where there were two more doors. This was almost better than Christmas.
“Behind door A you will find…” I dramatically announced, and flung open the door. “Oh my god,” I gasped. The bathroom wasn’t very big but it sure was pretty with its sea green walls, marble inlay and garden tub. In the ceiling above the tub was the biggest shower head I had ever seen. “A rain shower,” I oohed. I was instantly in love. “You and I have a date tonight, baby,” I told it. The bathroom also had a nice sized linen closet and another door which led to a rather large bedroom with the same floor to ceiling windows and gorgeous crown molding. The charcoal grey walls matched my shoes in color. They were dark but I liked them. A knock on the front door startled me and I went to see who it was.
From a young age I spent a lot of time at the house by myself. Dad taught me to always peer through the peep hole before opening the door. Out of habit, I rolled to my toes and pressed my eye to the hole in the door.
Blake.
With a squeal of delight, I flung open the door and jumped him. After mauling him, I grabbed his arm, pulled him inside and quickly shut the door behind us.
“You are so not going to believe this place!” I squealed.
Chapter Four
Zane
‡
If there is one thing I despise, it’s tardiness. So when something, or better yet someone, makes me late, it puts me in a shitty mood. By the time I reached my attorney’s office I was half an hour late and quite pissed off. When the receptionist announced they were running behind schedule and would be with me shortly, I was marginally mollified. At least I would not be paying for an hour I didn’t use. As I sat in reception thumbing through emails I thought about my father and how none of this would be possible if it wasn’t for him.
Matthew Zane Mitchell was the hardest working man I had ever known. By the time he was twenty two he owned two salvage companies. When I was two, he sold them both and made his first million. That’s when he went into the hotel business. By the time I was four he owned a hotel in Winston-Salem and one in Charlotte and had tripled his fortune. The next year he built an apartment complex in Charlotte and named it after the street he grew up on, Riverbend. When I was six he fell sick and, after two years of fighting for his life, he finally lost his battle to colon cancer. He was thirty-five when he died and made me a millionaire. I was only eight years old.
A shadow fell across the screen of my phone and I glanced up. “Mr. Marks and Mr. Mason will see you now,” the receptionist announced with a bright smile. I couldn’t help but notice her perky tits peeking from the V of her blouse. She turned to lead the way and I followed after. The image of her having to lie down to get her skirt zipped flashed in my head. “By the way, I’m Mitsy,” she announced over her shoulder. Mitsy, with her tight skirt, curly hair and dramatic makeup was just my type, shallow, vapid and easy to brush off.
George Marks and Allen Mason, of Mason and Marks LLP, came highly recommended. God knows they had to be better than the idiots my mother used to steal my inheritance. After firing them I tried out two other firms before finding Mason and Marks. I had a good feeling about this firm. Mitsy’s ass swayed back and forth in her suffocatingly tight skirt as I followed her down a long hall and into a large corner office. Once inside, she introduced me and then stepped back while we shook hands.
“Thank you Mitsy, that will be all,” George told her. As she turned to leave, she made sure to catch my eye. I politely smiled at her. Yes, I see you Mitsy. Not gonna happen.
“Please sit,” Allen said. “First let me say we are thrilled to have your business, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Please, call me Zane,” I told him.
He held up a file. “We have the numbers in here but would appreciate a little history lesson, if you don’t mind.”
I was hoping for this. In order to know how best to represent me they would need to know what drove me. I hated talking about my family, especially my mother, but in this case I was willing to make an exception. “As you know, my father passed away when I was eight. When I was fourteen, my mother met Ted. Ted was your usual Country Club flunky. In this case, he was a social climbing, money grubbing asshole who had a secret fetish for little boys.” By the surprised looks on their faces I could guess this was not the story they were expecting. Welcome to my world, boys. “For the next five years I deflected Ted’s advances. At the same time I watched him spend my father’s hard earned money. Day by day I saw my beautiful mother change into someone I no longer recognized. I was helpless. Nothing I did or said changed anything. Right around my nineteenth birthday Mom came to me and told me she was running out of money. She asked me to turn over my trust fund to Ted. I knew Ted put her up to it and told her as much. As usual, she denied everything. When I refused her request for my inheritance, she went behind my back and sold both of the hotels out from under me. The only reason she was forced to hold onto Riverbend was because of a legal stipulation my father put in place right before he died.”
“It says here that Ted sold you Riverbend right after your mother’s death,” Allen stated.
“Yes, by the time my mother passed away they were broke and Ted was desperate. The morning after the funeral her attorney called offering me Riverbend for a quarter of the price it was worth. After getting over my shock, I jumped at the offer. I didn’t even ask why Ted was selling. I didn’t care. I knew nothing about owning an apartment complex but I would sure as hell learn. This was my chance to get back a piece of my father. So, I purchased Riverbend. Then I evicted Ted and fired my mother’s attorneys. Now I am here.”
With a knowing smile on his face, George said, “You have Riverbend, so what’s next?”
I returned his smile. “I’m glad you asked that, George. I’m going to get it all back.”
“We would love nothing more than to help you succeed,” Allen said.
Yes, I’d definitely made the right choice.
Before the meeting adjourned, I explained about Beth. I wanted them fully prepared for if or when she decided to sue. So far she’d only written a threatening note, which I handed over to them. They assured me that if Beth decided to press charges, they would tie her up in courts for years. When the intercom squawked and Mitsy told them their next client had arrived, I stood to leave.
Mitsy slipped me her phone number on the way out. I gave her another smile and then, once out of sight, tossed it in the trash in front of the building.
On the drive to Whisky’s my mind wandered back to the subject of my angst, Cathryn. Blake told me she was brilliant. Clearly he’s biased. In all the time I’d known him he’d never mentioned a sister. I wonder why? One thing was for sure, Blake and Hunter did not have to worry about me sleeping with my new PA. Miss Haines was definitely not my type. What should I say when Blake asks me about her? Somehow I didn’t think,
“Your sister doesn’t seem very bright,” would go over well. In the end I decided to avoid answering any questions. I said I was going to give Cathryn a chance and I meant it. Lucky for me we were busier than planned and I only saw Hunter and Blake in passing that night. The last group of customers left around one and I didn’t get home until after three.
A strange squeak followed by a snuffling noise jolted me awake the next morning. The noise sounded close to my bed. If there was one thing the Army taught me it was to sleep lightly and never let the enemy sneak up on you. Someone was in my bedroom. I could sense their presence. What the fuck? Since I was sleeping on my stomach, I was at a disadvantage. Cool it, I told myself. I inhaled through my nose in attempt to calm my racing heart and relax my tense muscles. I slowly released my breath and focused all of my attention on my surroundings. A few more seconds passed before I detected a slight movement to my right. One of my sergeants used to say, “The best defense is always a good offense.” In this case I had to agree. In a flash, I shot my hand out and grabbed whoever was standing beside my bed. A loud shriek followed by a shower of scalding hot liquid had me up and off the bed in mere seconds.
“Ohmygodareyouokay?” my assailant incoherently babbled.
Directly across the bed, holding up a coffee cup as if it was a weapon of some sort, stood my new assistant. Due to the pain radiating across my back and ass, it took me a second to fully assess the situation. Once I figured it out, I blasted her. “What in the hell are you doing?”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times and her eyes guiltily darted all over the room before finally landing on my dick, which happened to be sporting some very impressive morning wood. Slapping a hand over her eyes she pointed the coffee cup at my groin area and screamed, “Cover that thing up!” A second later she followed it with a squeaky, “Please!”
I was shocked. I was outraged. Assistant or not, how dare she sneak into my bedroom while I was sleeping, toss scalding hot coffee on me and then demand I cover up!
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I roared.
Not in the least bit intimidated, she spread her fingers and peered down at my dick, which was now half-mast instead of its former full glory. “I am so sorry. I had questions about the list you left. I thought I would be nice and make you coffee. When you still hadn’t made an appearance by ten, I got concerned,” she quickly explained.
“When you saw I was asleep did it occur to you to turn around and leave?” I asked. Clearly she was not the brightest bulb.
“I had questions,” she repeated.
“Nothing and I mean nothing warrants you invading my personal space. Do I make myself clear?” I was beyond angry. I was downright pissed. Who the fuck was this woman?
“Uh, I’ll just leave now,” she whispered.
“Uh, I think that would be wise,” I mocked.
Without a word she turned and bolted from the room. Hit by a twinge of guilt I threw on some sweats and followed after her. The last thing I needed was for her to quit on me. When I hit the bottom step she was racing for the front door.
“Wait!” I called out, and she froze. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I apologize. Please, let me get a cup of coffee and we can go over your questions.” She hesitated for a second and then nodded her head.
Once settled in my office with a fresh cup of strong but damn good coffee, I listened to her questions. I had to admit, she had some valid concerns. As soon as we were through the list she stood to leave.
“Please sit,” I told her, and waited for her to sit back down. I felt the need to address what happened this morning. After all, I did not always sleep alone. I could not have her randomly barging into my bedroom.
“After what happened this morning, I think it would be wise to set some boundaries. In the future I would appreciate it if you stick to downstairs only. Most nights I do not get home until well after midnight and most mornings I do not get up before ten. Regardless of where I am or what I’m doing, the list will be on my desk by nine sharp.” Her hand shot up and I closed my eyes to keep from snapping her head off. She really was an irritating little thing. “Stop raising your hand,” I said through gritted teeth.
“But it’s rude to interrupt,” she replied.
“Most people wait until there’s a break in conversation and then speak.” I knew I was being condescending but really?
“That’s just it,” she clipped, “with you there is rarely a break in conversation.”
It seemed Miss Haines was both irritating and mouthy. I gave her a scathing look. She returned it with a blank expression and I raised my brow in question. Either the woman was stupid or she had some serious brass balls. “Are you saying I talk a lot?”
Realizing her error in judgement, she started back peddling. “No, I’m just saying you have a lot to say.”
Thinking twice about those brass balls I decided to test my theory. “I thought Blake said you graduated top of your class from Penn State?”
Her eyes narrowed into tiny little slits and, for the first time since we’d met, I actually looked at her. It was apparent from her blondish hair and pale skin that she and Blake were not blood related. After a few seconds of glaring she relaxed her eyes and I could see they were blue, cornflower blue to be exact. Wearing a casual blouse and pants she appeared to be neither fat nor thin. Other than her eyes she was very nondescript, very…plain. Feeling somewhat annoyed by her previous comment about me talking too much, I decided to play with her. “I expect you to dress in business casual during working hours.” I dropped my eyes to her feet and slowly scanned them over her body. When I got to her face she was frowning at me. “What you are wearing this morning is perfect… for your day off.” She stared at me for a long minute before nodding her head in consent. I had to admit, I was a little disappointed she didn’t put up a fight. “Well, now that’s settl-”
“Twelve hours is an awful long time to be in dress clothes, don’t you think?” she interrupted. “Couldn’t we settle for something between this,” she pointed to the outfit she was wearing, “and what I had on yesterday?”
“I liked it better when you raised your hand.”
Her eyes flared. “Pardon?”
“You just interrupted me and you’re right, it is rude. From now on I’m perfectly fine with you raising your hand,” I slowly explained.
Her jaw dropped and I gave myself a mental high five. “Are you kidding me?” she squeaked.
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
The slitted eyes reappeared and I inwardly smiled. Maybe that will teach her not to insult me in the future. She promptly stood, thanked me for my time and stormed out of the apartment. I kind of felt bad for antagonizing her.
Kind of.
Forty minutes later I received a text from her: I forgot to tell you the movers will be here with my things at one this afternoon.
I thought about it for a second and then responded: I appreciate you taking the time to text me. As long as you have the list complete, I see no problem with this.
She responded with a thumbs up Emoji followed by what looked like a tiny turd Emoji.
I smiled. It seems Miss Haines has some spunk to her after all.
Chapter Five
Cathryn
‡
In order not to say something that would most certainly get me fired, I decided to fall back and regroup so, without another word, I stood up and walked out of Zane’s apartment. How this guy is Blake’s best friend is beyond me. He called me rude! I am not rude! I fought back tears of anger as I made my way back to my apartment. Zane Mitchell is a massive jerk, albeit an attractive one, but a jerk nonetheless. Ugh, why am I letting him get to me?
Once back upstairs I tried to focus on what I needed to do today but my mind kept wandering back to Zane and his bad attitude. I couldn’t get the whole bedroom scene out of my head. I had to admit, it was not my finest moment. In all fairness to me, though, he left a list a mile long and gave absolutely no instructions.
I didn’t have a clue as to where his checkbook was, and what about his computer password? Does he honestly expect me just to know all of this?
After I typed up a memo to deliver to the tenants I made myself a cup of coffee. Lord knows I didn’t get one this morning. Speaking of coffee, I thought making Zane a fresh cup of coffee would start us off on the right foot. How was I supposed to know he was a light sleeper with a serious case of PTSD? And his attitude! He acted as if I intentionally snuck up on him or something. He’s lucky I didn’t pee my pants when he grabbed me, or worse, brain him with the dang coffee cup. Dropping my head to my hands, I sighed. Great way to start off your new job, Cat. I knew I should apologize but a small part of me didn’t want to. The man was a serious butt head to me. I thought of his scalded back and winced. Then I thought of the rest of his body and sighed. Zane Mitchell wore his clothes well. Under those clothes, however, was all hard muscle. Speaking of hard, good grief, the size of his penis was criminal! I’d seen a few penises in my time but none that looked like that! Suddenly the whole situation seemed rather funny and I burst into a fit of laughter.
Half an hour later, I remembered I forgot to tell Zane about the movers. Not ready to confront him just yet, I grabbed the folder with his number on it and, instead of placing him in my contacts under Z for Zane I put him under B for Butthead. Then I texted him and told him about the movers. When I received his holier than thou response I typed a thumbs up Emoji followed by a tiny poop Emoji. The second I hit send I regretted it.
The man is your boss, Cat. What are you thinking? That’s just it, I wasn’t thinking. Zane Mitchell brought out a not so attractive side of me. It’s like he knew all of my buttons and decided to push them all at once. I was going to have to practice better self-control. “Stop reacting to him,” I told myself. “You are a professional and an adult. You need to act like it.” One way I could show him I was professional was to do the best job possible and become invaluable to him. I knew exactly where to start. Picking up his list I read it over and circled the things that would not require another visit to his apartment. I would start with those. Once Zane was gone for the day I would handle the rest.