by Linda Kage
Blushing, I slapped the drawer closed and cleared my throat, only for my mind to wander, imagining what it’d be like if I did go to that party with Brick and he did introduce me to Christopher Elton. The idea was tempting enough to make me forget I hated social functions because I always felt socially awkward and didn’t even want to attend the stupid party.
But Christopher…
He worked in the Pants department. I’d become aware of his existence when he’d had to give a presentation on YouTube to describe a new design for some slacks he’d drafted for JFI. He’d been vibrant, and entertaining, and gorgeous.
So gorgeous.
I mean, yeah, JFI tended to hire a lot of pretty people—this was the fashion industry, after all—but Christopher Elton had seemed especially spotless, and shiny, and new. I liked. A lot. And so, my fondness had been planted. Since then, I’d been patiently watering my obsession with moony-eyed glances whenever I spotted him walking by in the halls and writing his name in every way possible.
It was pathetic. I knew this, but—
A beep told me my pages were done copying.
“Oh!” I surged to my feet, unable to believe I’d forgotten about the papers and, ack! The meeting started in… Holy oops, nine minutes! Could I staple seventy-six copies of Lana’s four-page market report in time?
Hey, I was Kaitlynn Marcella Judge, daughter of the late Arthur K. Judge, original proprietor of Judge Fashions Industry. Hell yes, I could.
CHAPTER TWO
I wasn’t going to get my work done in time for the meeting.
No, wait, yes. Yes, I was. Positivity, Kaitlynn, have some positivity.
Bolstering myself with a mental chant of yes you can, I glanced at the time. Six minutes to sort and staple. I was cutting it close, but I had every confidence I’d make the deadline.
That was until the door flew open and Lana flounced inside. Proportioned like a model, she wore stiletto heels, a knee-length pencil-thin skirt, and a form-fitting wool-knit sleeveless blouse. The haughty demeanor suited her perfectly, which was too bad, because she overused it big-time, making it seem bitchily sinister instead of coolly confident.
“What the hell is this?” She shoved her teacup at me, spilling just enough to splash the front of my shirt.
With a gasp, I lurched to my feet and tugged my blouse away from my chest, but thank goodness nothing soaked through the cloth.
“It’s tea,” I said, staring at her incredulously. “What do you think it is?” It was the same exact brew I’d been making her every morning for the past six months, except for the fact it had steeped thirty seconds shorter than it usually did.
Holy geez, did thirty seconds really make that much of a difference?
Except the strength of brew ended up not being her issue at all.
“I meant the debris floating inside it, you imbecile. Are you trying to kill me?”
Blinking, I peered down into the cup. Then I blinked again. Not sure what she was referring to, I slid her a sidelong glance.
Had the woman taken her medicine this morning?
With a sniff, she pointed a French-tipped fingernail to a spot close to the side of the cup. “Right… There.”
Leaning closer, I squinted until I could make out what looked like a microscopic speck of lint that had most likely floated through the air off someone’s—probably her own wool—clothing, and landed in there after I’d delivered it. When I looked up at her with an expression that clearly let her know she’d lost her ever-loving mind, she narrowed her eyes and slammed the cup onto my desk, splashing more tea over the side and all over half the pile of papers I had lying there.
My mouth fell open, and a squeak of denial left me. “No! Those were the market reports for the meeting.”
Lana looked momentarily disjointed. I could tell she knew she’d messed up. But then the moment passed, and she snarled at me as if she’d discovered a way to blame me for her error.
“Make me a decent cup of tea.” She pointed to the mess she’d made. “And be sure there are no stains on any of the reports passed out at the meeting. I won’t have Nash thinking I’m incompetent.”
Spinning on her heels, she marched right back out of the room and past a pale-faced Shyla, who stood frozen just inside the doorway watching us.
Fuming, I fisted my hands at my sides and stormed after my father’s widow, ready to relieve her of some of her bleached-blonde hair. But Shyla jumped in front of me, her eyes huge with alarm and hands lifted to halt me.
“No! Please, no. With the mood she’s in, she’ll fire you. We both know she will. And I can’t lose you.”
Wrinkling my nose, I blew out a breath and nodded, not wanting to distress Shyla further… And definitely not ready to lose my internship. Then I forced a smile to let her know I wouldn’t let her down. Besides, I was supposed to project a cool, unaffected image to my stepmother if I ever wanted to prove to her I could be the best employee she’d ever hired.
It took her a second, but finally, Shyla relaxed and glanced at the mess on my desk. “Oh, Kaitlynn. I’m so sorry. Let me—”
I held up a hand as she rushed to assist me. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this.” Technically, my duty here was to be her assistant, even though I had to show her how to do most of her tasks and Lana assigned me with more projects than she did Shyla. Still, I had to prove I could handle whatever was thrown my way. I could do this on my own. “She only ruined, like, half the sheets.” Which meant roughly a hundred and fifty more copies to make, and I couldn’t even start stapling until they were finished.
I had three minutes until the meeting was scheduled to start.
“I’ll bring the reports to you in the conference room as soon as they’re ready,” I assured. “Okay?”
Shyla nodded and then shifted nervously. “What about the tea?”
I rolled my eyes. “The tea can wait.” Or maybe it wouldn’t come at all, which was what I was leaning toward. If Lana was going to refuse my tea, then no tea for her. All she’d had to do was toss that cupful and pour herself another if the piece of lint had bothered her so much. She probably swallowed more dust particles than that every time she opened her big, freaking mouth.
I shoved the teacup aside to see what papers could be salvaged. I’d been right on the first guess, half of them were ruined, which made me exactly eleven minutes late to the meeting.
Clutching them to my chest, where my frightened heart was trying to pound its way through my ribcage, I held my breath and eased open the door to the conference room, fully expecting it to make a loud creak and for everyone to stop their super important discussion to stare disgustedly at me for interrupting. But, wow, silence. From the door, anyway.
At the front of the room, Nash stood at the whiteboard, his back to the rest of the employees as he jotted down notes and talked about goals he’d set for the next quarter, only to be interrupted by Lana with some critical reason why she didn’t agree with him.
So really, no one even noticed me entering, except Brick. He brightened when he glanced over and saw me. Then he waved me forward to sit by him, a devilish grin quirking his lips as he pointed out the empty seat beside him.
It took me a moment to realize why he looked so mischievous. On the opposite side of the available spot was none other than Christopher Elton.
I blushed and took a step in reverse, shaking my head vigorously. But Brick started to make a bigger production of waving me over. His antics actually gained the attention of a few people who’d been listening to Nash and Lana argue. If he kept it up, the whole room would notice my presence. And worse yet, Shyla was one of the few who hadn’t realized I was there, while she was the only person I actually needed to see me so she could fetch these damn market reports I needed to drop off.
Since Shyla was busy taking notes, I gnashed my teeth and marched toward my stepbrother, who may or may not make it through the day alive—I hadn’t decided yet.
To house nearly eighty employees, the area was se
t up more like a classroom than corporate conference room. There wasn’t one big table everyone gathered around but instead about twenty small tables that faced the front, where a podium, white board, and enormous pull-down screen for PowerPoint presentations was set up. An aisle separated the room in half, where I guessed Lana’s employees stayed to one side and Nash’s took the other. The table Brick sat at was located at the edge of the center aisle about halfway up the room.
I was so busy glaring at him, I tripped over a pair of shoes some guy had sticking out in the aisle as he crossed his feet at the ankles. Thankfully, I caught myself before I crashed to the floor, but it was still embarrassing.
“Oh gosh. Sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t see—”
The words stalled in my throat when I took in my tripper. Hayden appeared to be on the verge of forgiving me—or maybe issuing his own apology—as he yanked his feet out of my way until he focused on my face. The irritated, harassed sigh that followed seemed to say of course it would be you.
I swear, my older stepbrother hated me almost as much as Lana did, but he seemed the type who wanted nothing whatsoever to do with me and not the type who relished my torture as his mother did. I think it stemmed back to when I was seven and our parents had first become engaged. I’d been so eager and excited to get to know my new brothers that I’d invited them to a tea party. Just a simple, innocent get-to-know-you tea party. At the time, sixteen-year-old Hayden had wanted to go to a concert with his friends, but Lana had made him accept my invitation instead. He’d been determined to ignore my existence ever since.
“Sorry,” I repeated. Then, cringing and hurrying past him, I focused my attention on Brick, who merely rolled his eyes over his brother’s attitude and pulled the empty seat out from the table for me to sit.
“I’m not staying,” I whisper-hissed. “I just need to get these reports to Shyla or your mother and then I’ll be on my—”
“What do you mean, you’re not staying?” He sent me an odd look. “These meetings are mandatory for everyone. How the hell do you get out of them?”
Oh geez. I guess he’d never noticed I hadn’t been present at one before. What an observant big brother.
Honestly, the meetings were only mandatory for paid employees. Lana had actually forbidden me from attending them, probably because she knew how desperately I wanted to be included. I was about to tell Brick all this when Nash’s voice rose from the front of the room, catching my attention.
“I’d be more willing to discuss this with you if you’d brought your own objectives to the meeting, Lana.” His deep voice broadcasted his authority as he loomed over my stepmother. “Or you actually had a reasonable argument.”
I silently cheered for him, glad there was one person in the building who always stood up to her. Though I guess who else would even try? He was her only equal here, which was Lana’s own fault. She’d nearly bankrupted JFI about a year ago and had to sell out half the company to Nash Corporation, so now she had a co-CEO to deal with every step of the way.
And though I wanted to hate the guy because his family had been the one to buy out half my father’s company while I’d been unable to get it myself, Ezra Nash had truly and honestly saved JFI when he’d come on board. He had a savvy business sense, and he kept the employees happy with reward incentives and after-hour activities.
“Just look at my mother up there,” Brick whispered in my ear. “Panting and drooling over Nash like a bitch in heat. I swear she’s half a second from mounting him on the conference table and shagging him in front of us all.”
“Eww, stop. That’s sick.”
Trying not to picture my stepmother doing any such thing, I nudged Brick with the pointy end of my elbow, hoping he’d behave.
I gagged every time he said his mom wanted Nash, though Lana did seem obsessed with the guy. It was always, Nash this and Nash that, in a very snide, condescending tone whenever she talked about him, which was a lot, like all that hate she held for him boiled down to a case of the throbbing, hormonal, sexy wants.
Not that I could blame her taste. Nash was flawless in a Matt Bomer, Henry Cavill, mixed with a dash of Ryan Reynolds kind of way. The man walked into a room and ovaries immediately began sizzling. Add that to the mysterious aloofness about him, and it only made him that much more appealing. He had an intimidating yet reverent allure that made him untouchable, un-talk-to-able, and almost un-breathe-around-able.
Would he go for Lana, though? Aside from the fact my dad had appreciated her enough to marry her—which had been years ago when she’d been much nicer—I couldn’t picture anyone willing to put up with her bitterness, no matter how pretty she was. Besides, she was old enough to be Nash’s mother. I’d lose all respect for him if he fell under her spell.
Lord, I hoped he never gave into her, business-wise or privately. I had a suspicion we’d all suffer if he did.
Brick leaned close to murmur in my ear, “Is it wrong that I want him to win every argument those two have, just to see her lose?”
Though I completely agreed, I sent him a harassed glower, because he hadn’t said it all that quietly. It actually caused Christopher Elton to glance over.
I froze, forgetting to breathe when he skimmed his attention over Brick only to settle his gaze on me.
Oh my God, we were sharing eye contact.
And he had brown eyes.
I now knew the color of Christopher Elton’s eyes.
Life was amazing. Things began floating around inside me as if dancing in celebration. Breathing became clearer, colors brighter, and sounds crisper. If there were any birds in the room, I swear, they’d start chirping merrily. Just looking at him made me hyper-aware of the entire world, and especially aware of my blood thumping excitedly through my veins.
And then it happened. His gaze lowered, his attention shifting, and he checked out my chest before looking away.
He’d just copped a look! Oh wow. Christopher Elton had noticed me as a female.
And why the heck did I keep thinking of him as Christopher Elton, not just Christopher?
No idea, but I tried not to squirm, not sure if I was flattered by his glance or just really uncomfortable. I kind of felt uncomfortable, and I freaked out a bit, hoping I looked okay. It took everything in me not to check my own chest to see how things were going down there. But then, his glance also made me feel feminine and sort of powerful. It’d been way too long since anything in that department had seen any action. A guy actually noticing me as a woman was nice.
I drew out a long breath, trying to control myself as I decided I was flattered. Yeah, flattered was good.
Christopher (see, I could think of him without using his last name) didn’t glance back at me again, which sort of deflated the little bubble I had going, but I was still more energized than usual. Until Brick slid a piece of paper across the top of the table my way that read:
On second thought, I’m not sure it’s meant to be. Kaitlynn Elton doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.
I slapped my hand over the message, hoping no one else had seen what he’d written, and sent him a stern glance of reprimand. He refused to look my way, but the smug smile on his face let me know he was well aware of how much he’d just embarrassed me.
What a jerk. I had such a wicked, evil stepbrother… Who I loved probably more than anyone else alive.
But then my attention was diverted when Nash asked Lana for the market reports as he studied the next item on the agenda of things to discuss. Shyla jerked to attention and popped to her feet, wildly scoping the room until she noticed me. Fetching the reports from me, she held them up for Lana to see she had them. Lana motioned for her to pass them out, and I held my breath, thinking I should go now before my stepmother noticed me and made a scene, except I didn’t want to bring attention to myself by getting up to leave. Feeling more uncomfortable about staying for a meeting I wasn’t allowed to be in, I latched my fingers around the arms of my chair to push to my feet, only for Nash’s voi
ce to boom, “Wait.”
I froze. Then I blinked and zipped my wide-eyed, caught-in-the-act gaze his way, only to realize he wasn’t talking to me. The man hadn’t noticed me in the room; he probably didn’t even know I existed. He was too busy frowning at the market report.
Pointing at one of the lines, he lifted his face to Lana. “You took out the expenses I put in for the Halloween party’s band and caterer.”
Lana gave a negligent shrug. “That’s because I canceled them.”
My mouth dropped open. Around me, the rest of the employees gasped as well, probably unable to believe she would do such a terrible thing. But that’s not the part that surprised me; canceling the band and caterer totally sounded like something she’d do. No, I was shocked she had even opened the spreadsheet file long enough to alter it. She could’ve slotted in the changes from accounting herself instead of making me do them at the last second this morning.
What a bitch.
Across the room, Nash looked dumbfounded before he slowly said, “You did what?”
“Hey.” Lana lifted her hands as if to say they’d been tied. “You were so intent about economizing our expenditures, I thought it only appropriate.”
Blue eyes went ice cold as they glared daggers at my stepmother. “Appropriate my ass. You just wanted to piss me off.” And it seemed to have worked. I felt the urgent need to duck and cover because he looked so mad. “You had no right to do this,” he snarled. “No right at all.”
My stepmother merely trilled out an amused laugh. “As if you have the right to throw my money away on trivial, unnecessary expenses.”
“Our money. And I don’t think the comfort and contentment of my people is trivial or unnecessary. We have a budget for this kind of thing, a budget you approved, and all costs were met well within that budget.”
Lana didn’t seem to care. She tipped up her nose and waved out an unconcerned hand. “What a stupid notion to have an office party, anyway. For God’s sake, why do you think we need to bolster morale? These people should be grateful I gave them a job in the first place and don’t fire them all for flagrant disrespect of their CEO.”