Fierce Love

by Danielle Stewart

  “This is business, Aunt Marissa. It’ll take tough choices.”

  “Just don’t forget that part of yourself. Don’t push everything else aside. And when you’re ready,” she tipped her head and looked at him gently, “just call me and I’ll sit with you while you visit your father. He’s not conscious, but I’m hopeful. I think he can hear me.”

  “Thank you for being with him,” James said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “The best I can do is promise you I’ll do what’s right for the company.”

  She hummed, and he assumed it was disapprovingly. “Don’t forget the special part of you that stands up for the little guy.” Snatching her purse off his desk, she finally let her stern look crack into a tiny smile. “And answer your damn phone when I call.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She was tough, and he’d needed tough for many years. His head was completely aware of the fact that she was clueless about the business, but his heart was happy to know she still cared so much for him. Enough to leave sixty-one voice mails and march herself down here.

  As his aunt walked victoriously out of the room, James drew in a deep breath. That wasn’t likely going to be the last time Aunt Marissa would have to march in here. But for now there was work to be done.

  CHAPTER 4

  Libby prayed the suit she’d squeezed into had some magic material that wouldn’t show the buckets of sweat that seemed to be pouring out of her body. The ache in her wrist wasn’t bothering her so much as it was constantly reminding her of the man who’d run it under cold water. This day had been a blur. She was not good under pressure, and this was about as much stress as she’d been under since her father died.

  Today was about blending into the walls and not being noticed. A skill she had practiced well. She hadn’t intended to be so snarky toward the man who asked her to help find glasses, but the last thing she needed was anyone noticing her ignorance of the layout of the building. If he hadn’t been so unsettlingly sexy, she probably would have been nicer. It wasn’t her fault his eyes were so piercingly gorgeous or his jaw line so square and strong. He should expect to make women stutter and run away if he wanted to look that good. At least women like Libby.

  When she did find the right conference room for the meeting James West had called, she was relieved there was a sea of people already in the massive room. She slid in like she was diving into the ocean, just one of many fish swimming around. Pulling out her phone, she busied herself and pretended to be working on some important email. It was amazing how much a phone could act like a force field, but today it was being penetrated.

  “Did you hear?” an older woman with white hair and doughy round cheeks asked. Her hair had been sprayed into a helmet consistency and Libby had this urge to knock on it to see if it tinged like metal.

  “Um,” Libby said before she remembered she was supposed to sound professional. “I have not heard,” she corrected herself stiffly.

  “He’s firing everyone. All the leadership roles have been demolished. I’ve been an executive assistant to Ken Rockaway for fourteen years, and now he’s gone. Of course we’re next. James Jr. is a heartless idiot, and if his father wasn’t in a coma he’d be here, setting him straight. The company won’t last a month under his leadership.”

  Libby nodded her head and pursed her lips together, tuning in to the chatter around her. It all seemed to be about the same. The word fired bounced off the walls and made her chest grow tighter. She needed this money. She’d been promised a lifetime of pay from West Oil and now it might all be over.

  “What’s your name, dear?” the woman asked, seeming to realize quite suddenly they weren’t acquainted. “Are you with accounting?”

  “I—” Libby opened her mouth but no more words came out. She had two canned phrases she’d been instructed to use, and they had escaped her for a second. “I am an executive assistant and liaison to one of our counterparts in Europe. Clifton Ryle works remotely, so I’m not in the office much. I’m usually abroad.”

  “Oh,” the woman said, nodding. There was a glint in her eyes that screamed she had no idea what Libby was talking about. As she looked ready to press her for more information, the door to the conference room opened and silence fell all around them.

  “Thanks for gathering so quickly,” a tall dark-haired man announced loudly as he stepped inside and smiled. “My name is Mathew Kalling, and as some of you know this is Mr. James West, Jr. He’s now the CEO of West Oil.”

  Shit. That was the CEO? That was also the man Libby had been fantasizing about since their encounter earlier that morning. He’d propositioned her, offered to make her bad day better. He’s the man she’d literally run away from. She tried to remember what she had said, how rude she’d really been. If she thought things looked grim before, they were falling apart by the second. Luckily the crowd gathered in this large conference room made for a good shield. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to spot her.

  “Good morning,” Mr. West bellowed, nodding his head and smiling with his mouth but not his eyes. He looked entirely different from their meeting in the break room earlier that morning. There was heaviness in his shoulders and a kind of dimness in his eyes, like he’d just seen something that brought his mood down. Libby had to crouch a bit to avoid his gaze, but it was worth the extra work. If she could sneak in and out of the meeting quietly maybe nothing would change for her.

  The other man, Mathew, was talking but Libby was too distracted to make sense of his words. Instead, through the small gap between two wide-shouldered men she looked at James West, Jr. His biceps pressed tightly against the lush material of his suit. Even his electric blue tie, matching his eyes perfectly, was sexy, if that was possible. She took in the way it ran down his thickly muscled neck, over what she imagined were six-pack abs, and rested just above the shiny gold on the buckle of his belt. She closed her eyes and pictured him loosening the knot and striding over to her with great intention. As warmth spread up between her legs, a shoulder bumped her back to reality, and she blushed at the thought that someone might realize what she was just picturing. Her heart continued to thud against her ribs as she refocused on reality.

  For a second she forgot how desperate this situation was. If she were about to be fired from the job she didn’t really work, her entire life would crumble. Even if a sexy man was doing the firing, it wouldn’t change anything. She shook off the awestruck feeling that came from eyeing Mr. West and focused instead on the words the other man was enunciating loudly at the crowd.

  Mathew addressed them with an efficient but gentle tone. “In situations like this, rumors fly. I’m sure you’ve all heard that much of the old executive leadership team has chosen to move on. I can assure you no one was fired. They were all given the opportunity to stay on with the requirement they align themselves with the new direction for West Oil. They chose not to.”

  “It didn’t seem like much of a choice, Jimmy,” the woman Libby had been speaking to, called. Every eye turned toward them. Her own face glowed red with embarrassment even though she hadn’t spoken a word.

  “Maryanne,” Mr. West said, his nostrils flaring, “I can assure you, they’ve all been compensated well. No one’s going to starve out there.”

  “And how about in here?” Maryanne countered. “We aren’t going to get any golden parachutes on our way down.”

  Mathew raised his hands disarmingly, and Libby could sense he was softer or at least had more tact. His voice, his expressions, seemed to be far more approachable than Mr. West’s, whose stoic look was laced tightly with annoyance. “No one in here is jumping out of any planes. No parachute required. Your jobs are here if you want them. You are the leadership of over four thousand employees. Those people are the lifeblood of this company, and they look to everyone in this room for guidance. The executives may have had the big paychecks, but you are the front line here. Yes, there will be changes, yes things will be different, but I can assure you Mr. West has the helm of this company well under control.”

&n
bsp; “If it isn’t broken,” Maryanne sang back and a cackle of voices agreed with her almost instantly. The rumble grew to near shouts, and Libby pressed her lips together tightly, praying everyone would just shut up and not ruin this for her.

  “It’s very broken, Maryanne,” Mr. West argued, and Libby watched as the man drew in a deep breath and brushed his blond hair back. It wasn’t a combative argument he was waging but one of justification. He didn’t seem to want this woman in particular to think he was wrong.

  His nostrils flared again, and he folded his arms over his chest. Libby should have been thinking his body language was off-putting and divisive, but instead all she could do was stare at how the new position emphasized the size of his biceps. The tension racing through his body, the way he clenched in frustration, only defined his muscles more. She was shaken from the trance when his voice grew sharp and loud. “This meeting is not a debate. I hope you make the right choice and stay on at West Oil, but know that things will be vastly different here.”

  “They say you are going to drive this company into the ground in record time. Your father never agreed with your ideas. Why else would he have fired you? I don’t want any part of that.” Others shouted their agreement.

  Mr. West nodded, pursed his lips together, and Libby thought he was about to offer some kind of reassurance. If he had a case to make about his vision for the company, what better time to lay it out? She fixed her eyes on him, tracing the line of his jaw as he clenched and relaxed it. She wanted him to be as brilliant as he was gorgeous, and she held her breath as he began to speak, assuming his words would be inspiring.

  “Then save us both the time and go now. I can promise you a positive recommendation to your next employer if your previous performance reviews warrant it. I hope many of you do stay on, but I can’t force you to,” he announced matter-of-factly.

  Libby couldn’t hold her face still. It twisted into a look of disgusted shock. How could this be the same man that had gingerly rolled up her sleeve after she’d been burned? She regained composure as quickly as possible but no one around her did. They clamored with disbelief and anger.

  The second man, Mathew, looked as though he were ready to jump out of his skin if he didn’t get a chance to speak. Like he was a passenger on a runaway train and no one would let him pull the brake. But Libby watched a look pass between the two men, and Mathew stayed silent. She wondered how a man like Mr. West, so painfully handsome and charismatic, could be so quick to upend people’s lives.

  She felt bodies bump past her on the way to the door, and she was shocked at how many people were willing to walk away from their careers on principle. She’d been unable to turn down money from a company she hated for the last five years and these people were willing to walk out on a company they loved. She was embarrassed by her weakness, her lack of integrity, and one of her feet shuffled forward, nearly joining the group. She could leave now and get washed away by the tide of chin-held-high resignations. She could finally stand up and say she wouldn’t accept the paycheck that was agreed upon in some back-room meeting years ago. But an image of her mother flashed across her mind and she froze. She needed to make this work. She had no choice. Glancing around the room, she could see the crowd split in half, and the people remaining all looked like skittish animals about to bolt.

  Mr. West looked mostly unaffected by the people passing by him on their way out. He bit at the inside of his lip and flattened his tie busily. But then she saw it, just a flash across his eyes as the woman, Maryanne, crossed his path. Like a guilty child he glanced away, not holding the stare.

  “I’ve got business to attend to,” Mr. West announced coolly. She watched as he yanked his phone from his pocket, attempting to look angry, but she recognized the emotion to be much deeper than that. Remorse? Maybe sadness?

  When he reached for the door he looked over his shoulder and barked more orders. “I need an assistant, Mathew. Go through this group and send me the best candidate.”

  “Yes,” Mathew nodded, staring out over this small group, looking like he was about to pick the best pup in a bad litter. “How many of you have executive level assistant experience?” Three hands went up and Libby felt an elbow in her ribs. “Didn’t you just tell Maryanne you are an executive assistant?” a man asked her, and she nodded as though she’d just woken up from a dream and had come back to reality. She raised her hand reluctantly.

  “Step forward,” Mathew instructed. “I’ll pull your employee files, and then we’ll interview. The rest of you can go back to your desks. I know everything is in flux right now, but I can assure you, Mr. West has all my confidence. I suggest you give him yours as well.”

  Libby swallowed back her breakfast that felt as though it was revolting from her stomach and inched toward the front of the room as almost everyone else exited. Did she have an employee file? Would this be the moment the truth came out?

  “Name?” Mathew asked her as he flipped open a laptop and clicked around on the keys.

  “Libby—” she stopped abruptly, “Liberty Saint-Jane.”

  He clicked a few more keys and then hummed as he read. “Impressive performance reviews over the last five years.”

  She hadn’t even known she’d had performance reviews. “Thank you, sir,” she forced out.

  “You have good global exposure, and the projects you’ve managed are in line with some of what Mr. West is looking to move toward. Why don’t you have a seat? The rest of you can leave your names here and I’ll check back with you after this interview if it’s necessary.”

  Libby sat down in the chair across from Mathew and reminded herself that her roots were in acting. Jessica had made her look the part, and now it was time to act. Obviously one of these other candidates would interview far better than she would, and with any luck she could slip out of there. In the mass changes going on in the company her paycheck might keep coming. Maybe it would go unnoticed.

  “These glowing reviews speak for themselves,” Mathew said as he continued to scan the documents on the screen in front of him. Libby couldn’t imagine what might be written on them, considering she’d never worked a day in this office. “I’m going to tell you the truth, the hub that you are attached to in Europe doesn’t seem to be serving much purpose, so I don’t think it will survive the changes we are intending. I want that to be clear as we talk about this new role. It’s not necessarily a matter of staying in your current position. I thought it only fair to let you know that.”

  “I understand,” Libby said flatly, though inside she was shivering with fear. She had intended on getting dismissed from this interview the way someone might be asked to leave jury duty. Thanks for coming, but we don’t need you. Go back to whatever you were doing. The problem was she wouldn’t be able to go back to what she was doing. It was this job or no job. It was this job or her mother would have to be moved out of the facility she loved. Her brother would not be able to stay in college without the extra money Libby sent him. The mortgage wouldn’t be covered on the house. A pain in her stomach spread like fire through a pile of hay. Every second of this morning had taken her by surprise. If she’d been asked an hour ago if she would pretend to be qualified for an executive assistant position to the highest person in this company, her answer would have been an unequivocal no. Of course she wouldn’t dig the hole she was in any deeper. But now faced with the reality that it was this job or no job, she knew she had to at least try.

  Mathew stayed fixed on the computer screen. “So I’m only going to ask you two questions. First, why did you stay in this room? You’ve been with the company a while, is that it?”

  Libby thought back to everything that had transpired since walking in the door of West Oil today. She thought of the chatter, of Maryanne’s words and how Mr. West reacted to them. It was time to be the actress she’d trained to be. In college she’d studied for a part in a show that required her to be tough. She remembered how it felt to hold her shoulders high and deliver sniping and direct li
nes. In real life she tended to talk quietly, nearly in a whisper. She stuttered a bit when her palms began to sweat. But when she hid behind the mask of a role she could be anything. It was the power of acting. She straightened her back and pretended to be completely unafraid. “I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Kalling,” she started as she crossed her legs in the tight navy power suit and placed her hands in her lap, “loyalty and nostalgia are not what’s kept me here today. My interest was piqued. Mr. West seems to have a strong will and a clear head, those are two things I appreciate in a leader. I’m not foolish enough to walk out on a job because my feelings might be hurt.”

  She had no idea if she’d hit the mark until Mathew’s coal black eyes raised up from the computer screen, and he unsuccessfully fought a smile. “And my second question,” Mathew continued, looking like he needed to refocus. “How do you deal with difficult people?”

  She knew Mathew was talking about Mr. West. How would Libby deal with a man like that? She’d never even been in the presence of a man like that, let alone worked closely with one. He was used to getting his way. He demanded immediate action. When he was backed into a corner, fight or flight, he threw punches. She had plenty of images swimming around in her mind about what she’d like to do with Mr. West, but none would answer this question in a suitable manner. “I deal with difficult people in whatever way gets me what I want,” she spat out, surprising even herself. There was an English teacher in the school she had worked at who used to say that all the time. How do you deal with troubled students? However they need to be dealt with, the teacher would always answer. Libby continued, trying to remember the words that had been used in the teacher’s meeting she’d attended. “I set my goal and then look how I can get there, no matter who I have to deal with to do it.”