Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol)

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Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol) Page 3

by Fiona Cole


  Alarm bells rang when her eyes heated, and she bit at her lip. I held out my hand cautiously, hoping she wasn’t anything like Beth, but not holding my breath. “I’m Nicholas Rush, nice to meet you.”

  “Cassie,” she said, sliding her hand in mine. She held on longer than necessary and scanned my body head to toe.

  Tugging my hand back, I rounded the desk, eager to put space between us. I watched her sit down and barely held back my cringe when she tugged her black skirt further up her legs than necessary and stroked her finger along the v of her blouse.

  This was going to be a long fucking day.

  The first three interviews sucked. The first one flirted the entire interview until I began to feel so uncomfortable, I had to cut it short. The second was completely unqualified, and the third was a little racist.

  The fourth sat across from my desk, barely hanging on by a thread. He had no actual work experience but expressed an eagerness to learn. It wasn’t great, but at least it was something I could work with.

  “Thank you, Kyle,” I said, walking around the desk.

  He stood from his chair and shook my hand. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Rush. I hope to hear from you.”

  Not making any promises, I merely nodded and walked him out. “Have a nice day.”

  As soon as he rounded the corner, I fell back into one of the seats across from Ryan’s desk.

  “Another dud?” he asked.

  “Actually, not completely. Which is why I’ll probably offer him the job. God, I just want this to be over.”

  “Should have let HR handle it.”

  “Thank you, Ryan, for your insightful, useless comments.”

  “It’s what you pay me for.”

  I didn’t even bother glaring. My eyes slid closed, and I grumbled.

  “By the way, Joseph called again.”

  At that, I jerked upright, tugging my phone out of my pocket. Four missed calls. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

  “Did he say what it was?”

  “No, but he did ask me to let you know to call him back sooner rather than later.”

  I stood from the chair and checked the time. A little after one.

  “I’m taking a lunch today. I need to call him back, and I need space from these damn interviews.”

  “But you have one last interview in thirty minutes.”

  “Reschedule,” I said, running into my office to grab my wallet.

  “It’s a little late for that,” Ryan reprimanded when I came back out.

  “Fine. Then have HR do it.”

  “I don’t know if I can find anyone on such short notice.”

  “Then you do it,” I growled. He opened his mouth again, but my phone burned a hole in my jacket, and the need to escape these four walls thumped like a pulse inside me. I held up my hand. “Just handle it, Ryan. It’s why I pay you as much as I do.”

  With that, I headed out, deciding a bar sounded like a nice place for lunch. Whatever Joseph called about, I was sure a bourbon would make it easier to handle.

  For a moment, a tinge of guilt tried to flood my system, but I shoved it down, reasoning that the last interview would most likely be a dud like the rest of them.

  Four

  Vera

  “Welcome, Miss Barrone. I’ll be conducting your interview today.”

  I shook his hand and couldn’t help my eyes narrowing at how young he looked. The last person I spoke with let me know the owner was conducting the interviews. The man, who didn’t look much older than me, with his bow tie and thick-rimmed glasses, didn’t scream owner of a burgeoning business.

  “Mr. Rush?” I asked.

  His soft laugh lacked humor as he dropped his gaze and readjusted his glasses before looking up with a forced smile. “No. I’m Ryan Saunders, Mr. Rush’s personal assistant.”

  “Oh,” I answered slowly, trying to process the change. I knew the ins and outs of a shipping company, and it was already odd enough that the owner would conduct the interview instead of HR, but I was told he liked to vet his employees himself. But to have an assistant interview me threw me off. “Not to be rude, but do assistants usually perform interviews at Rush Shipping Industries?”

  “No, we sure don’t.”

  I took note of his irritation, and my mind raced with what was going on. Was this a joke? Had they figured out who I was, and now my father was humoring me by letting me interview, but wasting my time with an assistant?

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Rush had to run out, and we had hoped HR would take over. However, no one was available on such short notice,” he explained, all irritation mostly gone.

  “I understand.”

  “I assure you I know the position you’re applying for and know each role as well as Mr. Rush himself.”

  “Of course.”

  It still pricked at my irritation that a company would be so aloof with their hires that they couldn’t find someone to properly vet their employees, but I let it go. It wasn’t like I was searching for my future career, just something to put at least an ounce of my degree to use.

  Taking a deep breath, I sat up straight and smiled.

  I wanted this job.

  More to prove I could have one than any other reason, but I still wanted it.

  “I see you graduated Magna Cum Laude at The Wharton School of Business.” His brows rose high above the edge of his black glasses. “Wow. That’s impressive.”

  “Thank you. I definitely enjoyed learning at Wharton. It offered me a plethora of experiences.”

  He looked up from the papers and tipped his head to the side. “Did you plan on continuing your MBA elsewhere?”

  Why bother? The degree I have now would be useless in a year.

  Covering my almost snort at his question with a soft laugh, I answered, “No. Not that I don’t want to. It’s just that now isn’t the time.”

  “I see.” He nodded and closed the folder holding my resume. “What makes you interested in the assistant project manager position? Your experience in college is impressive enough for a higher position. Unfortunately, we’re not hiring for that now. So, what is it about Rush?”

  It was small enough to not be on my father’s radar and seemed to have minimal connections that my father could use to shut me out, which would prevent me from delivering the big fuck you to him and Camden.

  “Rush Shipping is growing, and I want to grow with them.”

  He smiled and flipped open the folder again, making notes off to the side. But that small smile was all I needed to know. This job was mine.

  The rest of the interview flew by, and by the end, I was determined to recruit Ryan into becoming my friend, no matter what I had to do. He had a sarcastic whit that reminded me of Raelynn.

  “Well, Verana, I’ll need to pass all this information along to my superiors, but you should be hearing from us soon.”

  Beaming, I stood and shook his offered hand, feeling lighter since I arrived home from college. Ryan walked me to the elevator and offered another smile. It took all I had not to break out into a full victory dance as soon as the door closed. Instead, I managed to keep it to a small bounce from one foot to the other, getting it together by the time the doors opened.

  I couldn’t wait to call the girls and let them know how the interview went. Before I could reach the front doors, I stopped and opened my bag to dig my phone out, but it wasn’t in the pocket I usually kept it in. I flipped through each section, wondering if I’d misplaced it. Being so nervous before my interview would be the only explanation for it not being exactly where it always was, considering everything always had a place, and I didn’t deviate from it.

  I’d just unzipped the middle section when a wall clipped my shoulder and sent my bag flying off my arm onto the floor, all my belongings scattering out like water from a tipped-over glass.

  “Shit,” a deep voice said at the same time I did.

  I jerked my head up, ready to lay into this asshole when my eyes locked with the most beautiful hazel eyes I’
d ever seen. The light streamed in through the lobby and hit them just right to illuminate all the shades of brown and green mixing together.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

  My gaze dropped from his eyes, down the strong bridge of his nose to settle on his full lips.

  “Jesus,” I said on an exhale. Dark stubble coated his jaw, and I clenched my hands to keep from reaching out and thumbing his plush bottom lip. I may have almost moaned when his tongue slicked out across the bottom before they began moving again.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  His hand gently rested on my shoulder, giving a soft squeeze. It swallowed my smaller frame, sending a heat that burned through my chest.

  “Miss?” He spoke again and finally pulled me out of my trance.

  Blinking and shaking my head, I reprimanded myself for becoming a woman who damn near melted into a pile of goo over some facial features.

  “I’m sorry. Yes. You…you…” I looked down at the papers, pens, wallet, and other essentials scattered across the tile floor and collected myself. “Dammit,” I muttered, dropping to my knees to collect everything.

  “Here, let me help,” he offered, dropping down next to me. I watched as he grabbed one of my small pouches, grateful I kept all my feminine products and condoms in there. Otherwise, they’d be scattered right next to everything else.

  He held the black pouch between his long fingers and offered it back to me. Taking a few discreet deep breaths, I finally found the courage to really look up and see the man who sent me from angry to a puddle in point two seconds.

  His large body crouched next to mine, and as soon as my eyes met his again, familiarity hit me, forcing my heart to flutter a little harder in my chest.

  The man from the restaurant. The one Raelynn said I should offer a night to.

  What were the odds?

  Was it a sign?

  “It’s you,” he said, his eyes scanning my features.

  Like a record scratching, his words stopped my fantasies of fate with confusion. “What?”

  “Sorry,” he said with a laugh. He shook his head and looked down, running his hand through his hair. When he looked up again, his lips tipped, stretching his cheeks over sharp cheekbones, resting underneath glassy eyes. “I saw you at the restaurant the other night.”

  Biting my lip, I tried to hold back my smile from growing too big. This man oozed sophistication, and I didn’t want to come off as a giddy little girl. “You did?”

  “You and your friend were hard to miss.”

  Did he mean Raelynn? Or me? Did he mean we were hard to miss because Raelynn owned a room and could get loud? Or did he really notice me? “We may have noticed you, too,” I admitted, feeling bold.

  He studied me a moment longer before grabbing the last of my papers and passing them over. We both stood, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. His shoulders pulled wide, and I guessed I was lucky he only clipped my shoulder. He could have taken me down completely with his size if he really bumped into me.

  “I’m sorry I knocked into you,” he apologized again. “I was looking at my phone.”

  His smile faded to a firm pout, but his eyes still twinkled. Usually, that would’ve been my moment to smile and walk away.

  But I didn’t want to.

  Maybe it was the confidence of crushing the interview. Maybe it was Raelynn’s voice in my head, reminding me to have some before I was sold off. Maybe it was something about this alluring man and the power he exuded that called to me—challenged me—to handle him.

  I didn’t know what the reason was, but it pushed me to throw caution to the wind and flirt with him—to see where it went.

  “Responding to a girlfriend?” I asked, relaxing my posture, letting him see some of the desire brewing.

  His head tipped to the side, his eyes narrowing, and I feared I went too far. Despite the embarrassed flush fighting its way into my cheeks, I held it back and stood strong. He flirted with me first.

  Right?

  Oh, god. Did I make it up? Had he just been friendly, and I assumed it was more because I was lost in gaga land?

  Just as I was about to abandon ship and slink away, his lips soften again to a smirk, his tongue slicking across his bottom lip again.

  “No. No girlfriend to talk to. What about you? A boyfriend?”

  A boyfriend? No. An arranged fiancé? Well, he didn’t ask about that.

  “No.”

  “Well, then there is no one to protest me asking you out.”

  “I guess not.”

  His smirk grew at my evasive answers as he took a step closer. I craned my neck back to meet his eyes that now looked like pools of warm chocolate without the sun bringing out all the hidden depths. “How about drinks this Friday?”

  “How about dinner on Friday, and we’ll see about drinks?”

  God, who was I? I wasn’t this dominant woman who demanded what she wanted. I wasn’t meek by any means, but usually, Raelynn filled the role of seductress who didn’t hesitate to ask for what she wanted.

  Either way, his smile grew, and a soft laugh escaped as if impressed.

  Lifting my chin higher, I waited for his answer. If he shot me down, then at least I’d walk away with one hell of a story.

  He stepped closer, almost closing the gap. “Deal.”

  I tipped my head back more and slowly dragged my teeth across my lips. He did the same, and the sexiest rumble escaped his lips that had my knees shaking. Fuck, this was crazy. We were in the middle of a lobby after literally colliding, and everything around us ceased to exist. My body throbbed with a need for him to wrap me in his arms and lift me high enough, so I could discover for myself how much his soft, pillowy lip would give under my teeth.

  As if I willed him to do it, he leaned down.

  Two things happened in the moment of only inches between us.

  One, the strong scent of alcohol hit me before his lips could. And two, someone was calling my name.

  “Miss Barrone.”

  Flustered, I stepped back and blinked, bringing myself back to the reality of where we were, and turned to find Ryan coming out of the elevator, his hand clutched around a small rectangle.

  Had he seen me about to make out with a stranger in the lobby? Oh, my god, if he did, would he think less of me? Years of training to always be aware of how I looked and acted in public vanished in the presence of the man behind me. Not only would my dad be ashamed, but my mother would too. I’d been taught better.

  “Miss Barrone,” he said again, a little out of breath. He smiled when he saw me, and nothing on his face showed that he saw me about commit a PDA. “I thought I’d have missed you. You forgot your phone.”

  “Oh, thank you so much. I can’t believe I did that.” I turned back to my sexy stranger with an embarrassed smile to find him completely different than a moment before. His eyes no longer held any warmth. His lips no longer soft and inches from mine. His smile was nowhere to be seen. Left in its place was a man who looked like he was built from stone—his face cast in shadow. He made the cold man I saw in the restaurant look like a sunny oasis compared to who stood before me now.

  “Mr. Rush, back just in time,” Ryan said behind me.

  Mr. Rush? Rush, Rush, Rush? As in the Mr. Rush.

  “Miss Barrone was the last interview of the day, and I have to admit, she’s a perfect fit for Rush Shipping.”

  The owner of the company? The man who was supposed to interview me? The man who bailed last minute? The man who smelled of alcohol before three in the afternoon?

  The man who I almost begged to maul me in the middle of an office lobby?

  Heat flooded my cheeks, and I struggled to pull myself together.

  His eyes flashed to mine, and I rued the day I ever had the confidence to pursue a man so boldly. I should have just run.

  Clearing my throat, I stood tall and offered my hand with an uncomfortable smile I hoped alleviated the awkwardness of the moment. “Mr. Rush, it
’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Any hope of softening the statue before me vanished when he looked at my extended hand, and his lip curled in disgust. “Did you know I owned the company?”

  “What?” I asked, slowly dropping my hand.

  “Did. You. Know. I owned. The company?” he asked slower as if that would make it make more sense.

  “Ummm…No. I mean, I knew Nicholas Rush owned the company, but I didn’t know that was you.”

  His jaw ticked, and he took a step closer, but this time it wasn’t in passion, but to intimidate.

  Confused by the complete one-eighty, I stood tall, refusing to cower before any man.

  “Are you sure? Maybe you saw me and bumped into me so you could flirt and increase your chances of being hired?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked in a dangerously low tone.

  “You came on pretty strong, Miss Barrone.”

  Fire burned in my chest, and it took everything I had to not slap the arrogant look off his face. Shoving it down into a little ball of rage, I harnessed my anger for confidence and took my own intimidating step forward. “For your information, Mr. Rush, you bumped into me. Maybe if you hadn’t been out drinking before three and instead showed up to interview the employees you seem to need, you’d have seen that I am more than competent for this job and don’t need to reduce myself to flirting with someone so unprofessional to get hired. Rush Shipping would be lucky to have me.”

  And with that, I stormed off, now needing to call the girls to let them know that I rocked an interview but most likely wouldn’t get hired after almost kissing the boss and then basically telling him to fuck off.

  I guessed it was back to the drawing board.

  Five

  Nico

  “Good morning, everyone. First things first, I’d like to introduce our two newest assistant project managers, Kyle Rend and Verana Barrone.” My eyes glossed over Verana and focused on Kyle instead. “They will be working with Domenic and me on the incoming project. Which I will let Domenic explain from here to get us started.”

 

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