“And a man like Mr. West,” Mathew asked in a leading and open-ended way, “he can be—?”
“I don’t scare easily,” Libby lied, plastering a coy smile on her face. She was absolutely channeling Mrs. Morten, the pug-faced teacher who took shit from no one. It had earned her a miserable reputation of being a bitch, but she had some great one-liners that Libby could tap into now. “Everyone can be managed if you know what motivates them.” She raised an eyebrow at him and backpedaled some, remembering her goal. “I’m not sure Mr. West and I would be the best fit for each other, but I do hope there might be some position for me in the company. Perhaps I can take it up with Mr. Wallace.” That was the other man who’d been involved with the deal made years ago. He’d be the only other person who knew that Libby was getting paid to do nothing.
“Mr. Wallace is no longer with the company,” Mathew said offhandedly, not realizing how deep of a cut that made into Libby. Instead, he continued in a surprised tone. “You aren’t advocating to be the assistant to the CEO?” Mathew asked. “It wouldn’t be a lateral move for you, we’d be talking about a very large salary increase and jump in title.”
“A title is just some words scribbled on my office door,” she sighed, piecing together something her grandmother used to say when talking about politics. She was digging deep in her memory to try to form some kind of persona based on the strong people she’d known in her life. “At the end of the day I want to be effective in my job and an asset to the company. Where I do that is a decision for people like you.”
Mathew cocked an eyebrow and looked at her penetratingly. He hadn’t quite figured her out, and she nearly laughed at the notion. She wouldn’t be easy to peg because she was making it all up as she went. She should be a mystery; she was even surprising herself at this point. “Well, you’re either going to help him immensely or be fired in a week. I can’t tell,” Mathew said with a pensive look on his face. “But I guess we’re about to find out. Meet me in Mr. West’s office in fifteen minutes. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Libby stood and took his extended hand for a shake. “Yes sir,” she said with a warm smile. He closed the laptop and tucked it under his arm as he left the conference room, leaving behind a vacuum of nothingness where she stood.
What the hell was she doing? This didn’t even make sense. She couldn’t do this job or be this person. Even if she tricked Mathew, a man like James West, Jr. would surely see right through her. She’d insulted him earlier and was pretty sure she’d be a puddle of lusty mush in his presence anyway. At twenty-five feet away with a few dozen people between them, she couldn’t even keep it together. How was she supposed to sit across from him in his office and think of anything besides what he was capable of in bed? She had fifteen minutes to get her head straight. She fished in her purse for some quarters. There had been a vending machine in the lobby downstairs. There was only one thing that would help right now. Chocolate.
CHAPTER 5
James cracked his knuckles and rolled the ache out of his neck. Aunt Marissa had been right. People’s pride outweighed their willingness to follow him down this new and difficult path. He had to keep chanting in his mind to stay the course, keep focused.
He thought maybe he was cracking up. He wasn’t positive, but he believed he saw that same woman standing at the back of the conference room this morning. Flashes of her soft cheek or heart-shaped face would peek out from between people, and he’d lose his train of thought for a moment. But he’d gotten too frustrated by the end of the meeting to find out for sure.
Maryanne had rattled him. She’d had a way of doing so from the time she started working for West Oil many years ago. She had that inexplicable ability to cut straight through bullshit. With eyes in the back of her head and a nose that could sniff out a lie, she made his teenage years difficult. She was another one of those women who’d filled in when his mother had been too sick. Seeing her walk out today was a blow.
He grabbed the phone on his desk and dialed the Human Resources department.
“I want to make sure that anyone leaving today from lower level management positions is given severance.” He dropped his head down and thought of how many of them had spent countless years working hard for West Oil. Pushing them out of the company wasn’t enjoyable. It was necessary. If he was going to accomplish the loftiest overhaul of a billion-dollar oil company in history, he’d need people who would back him up, follow his instructions without hesitation. This was evolution; some people couldn’t adapt. “I know what I said. I’ve changed my mind. Go by years with the company and performance over those years and make sure we treat them fairly. Anyone needing a recommendation at their next employer, have them call me personally. Maryanne Biseth . . .” he hesitated, picturing the disappointment in her eyes, “double hers. Make sure she’s taken care of.”
“Mr. West,” a mouse-like squeak called from his doorway and jolted him to attention. He should have shut his door before dialing the phone. He wasn’t sure how much of his conversation had been overheard by . . . by the woman from this morning, who was now standing in his doorway looking as delectable as earlier that morning.
“Yes?” James asked and hung up the phone, feeling like the woman had walked right out of his recent fantasies and into his office.
She shot her hand out. Had she changed her mind? Was she here to lock the door behind her and slide her body over his? Would she slide herself under his desk and pleasure him until the overwhelming mountain of bullshit from this day seemed manageable? If that was the case, starting this encounter with a handshake seemed strange. But anxious to touch her, he took in her tiny wrist and the gold that dangled around it. A cheap piece of costume jewelry with an engraved locket dangling down. The burn was still pinkish red. His eyes moved up her silky arm, took in her slim shoulder, and finally his eyes met hers. She fluttered her lashes and somehow looked even sexier than she had this morning.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she apologized. “I’m glad to hear you changed your mind about the severance packages.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, feeling a blaze of heat crawl up him. The pieces of this puzzle might as well have been scattered across the earth. Nothing was making sense. Did she work here? Was she here to hookup? His body needed answers before he burst.
She stared back at him, stunned, pressing her lips together tightly. “Sorry,” she said, yanking her hand away and backing up sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to listen in.”
“It’s fine,” he said, staring down at her slight and soft body. He was hungry for her. Starving. The navy suit she had on now was form-fitting and the silky cream shirt scooped low enough to see a hint of her cleavage. Just a hint. “I’m more concerned with our interaction this morning.” He’d intentionally left the comment without much framework. He wanted to see what she had to say about it.
“I didn’t know who you were,” she said, choosing ignorance as a defense.
“Luckily my ego doesn’t bruise easily.” He smiled back. “The leader of a company normally wants to be recognized by his employees. You are an employee?” he asked, feeling like her answer would be the pin that popped the growing balloon in his chest.
“I am, but I recognize you now,” she sang with a tiny smile. The disappointment ripped through him. Why did she have to work here? Why did he have this unwavering rule not to sleep with employees? And what the hell was it about her that was driving him so crazy? He could not for the life of him figure this woman out. Was the flutter in her lashes meant to turn him on? James always prided himself on being able to read people. It was a skill he actively honed. But she was not clear to him. Not yet.
“I’m Liberty Saint-Jane,” she announced, forcing confidence into her words. James could tell the difference between someone who effortlessly walked through life feeling assured versus a person who put on a good show. It was like watching someone forcing square pegs into round holes, with enough effort it could be done, but it looked awkward.
&nb
sp; “And?” He took his seat behind his desk and continued to eye her curiously. Who are you?
“I’m your new assistant,” she stated flatly, a flash of unease crossing her face. “Mr. Kalling told me to meet you both in here.”
“He only just started the interviews,” James challenged, narrowing his eyes at her. Something wasn’t adding up.
“I suppose I impressed him.” She shrugged and tilted her head like a precocious child.
James divided people up. There were women who were beautiful but dumb. Beautiful and fierce. Men who were dumb but loyal. Or brilliant and back stabbers. He had dozens of these buckets, and he tended to toss people into them in order to be hyper-vigilant against their possible attacks on him or his business. It was important to know if someone was kind but ineffective or blunt and sneaky. This woman however was sending his radar around in circles. She was dressed like a woman prepared for corporate battle. Powerfully put together. But her eyes screamed innocence, naïveté, and unease. If Mathew had given her the job, it would only be because she’d been a qualified candidate, so James wouldn’t question that. But what was this half woman/half child act all about? How could she be both powerful and coy, playful-looking and serious?
He hadn’t seen how bright her lipstick was until it was contrasting against the pearly white of her teeth. The urge to kiss her had him forcefully holding on to the arm of his office chair so he’d stay put.
“Don’t get too excited; you may regret the promotion once we get started.” James grunted for whoever was knocking on his door to come in. The interruption was not welcome. He could have spent the rest of the afternoon analyzing every mannerism she had. Unlocking the puzzle.
“Oh good, you’ve met,” Mathew said as he raced into the office and sat down, propping his computer up on his lap.
“That might be a record for locating a new assistant.” He had to wonder if Mathew had recognized her from this morning as the woman who shot him down and thought this would be a fun show to watch.
“She’s highly qualified, and frankly, if we were going to hire outside the company it would take days or maybe weeks to find someone and onboard them. She’s going to do great,” Mathew said with a smile flashed in her direction. Maybe that was it. Maybe Mathew wanted her. Too bad. He couldn’t have her.
“Tell me, Liberty,” James started as he leaned into his large office chair. “Do you have a family?”
“I don’t,” she answered, looking defensive as though he’d just asked how much she weighed.
“Not married? No children?” James questioned.
“I assumed that was what you meant when you asked if I had a family,” she replied curtly. “You weren’t wondering if I was a nameless orphan abandoned on some church steps with no kin to my name. So my answer is still no. I am not married. I have no children.”
He smiled at her and let his shoulders sink down some. “You’ll excuse my frankness. I’m not trying to pry into your personal life.” Of course he was. “But what I’m here to do at West Oil will require full focus. I need people around me without any baggage.”
“You consider a family to be baggage?” she asked, eyeing him like someone might look at a complicated word problem.
“I’d prefer to ask the questions,” he countered.
With some effort she raised her chin and steadied her back. “I was under the impression the interview was over, and I had the job.”
“Ha,” James laughed loudly. “I trust Mathew’s judgment of your competence, but I’m asking about your commitment.” And he was also fishing for the reason she hadn’t taken him up on his earlier offer.
“I can assure you—” she started but he raised his hand to cut her off. The way her mouth snapped shut obediently excited him greatly. Would a raised hand in bed get her obeying him so quickly?
“No, let me assure you,” he countered, leaning in over his desk. “Any job you’ve ever had in your life will be nothing like this. If you are going to take on this role, then you are mine. Mine completely.” He knew it sounded sexual, and he could tell by her darting eyes and blazing red cheeks that she was interpreting it as such. And that had him rock hard for what felt like the hundredth time this morning. It was a good thing he was back behind his desk where no one could see. “Twenty-four hours a day you will be on the clock.” It was funny to him how just dropping the letter L out of the word clock would be a far more accurate depiction of what he’d like her to be on. “This is a tipping point. What we accomplish in the next two months will determine whether this company will thrive or fail. And failure is not an option.”
“I understand,” she said with a nod. “I’m available. No baggage.” He watched her intently the way he watched all people he needed to categorize, and he wondered why she was trying so hard. What had her sitting in this seat, forcing out assurances? Ambition? Ego? Something to prove?
“West Oil’s reputation has suffered in the last few years. With safety and environmental violations, morale, and lack of innovation, we aren’t attractive to some parties out there. But once they hear my plans they’ll be interested. A large part of your job will be making sure I meet with them. Even if they are reluctant, you will make the meetings happen.”
She nodded but didn’t speak. Quiet obedience.
“Do you see these?” he asked, gesturing to the stack of files on his desk. “These are the contacts that West Oil has been dealing with for decades. You’ve likely dealt with many of them in the past.”
“Of course,” Liberty replied quickly.
“Don’t call a single one of them,” James said, shoving the stack of papers off the desk and into a trash bin. He was attempting to make a point but the motion of clearing his desk had sexual undertones. He’d just made room for her sweet ass. “These people have gotten us nowhere. I will provide you with a list of tasks in order of priority. I expect you to be able to keep up. Can you keep up?” He already knew the answer. This job was not for a woman like her.
“I can,” she said, drawing in a deep breath and blinking away the worry that danced at the corner of her eyes. There was no way in hell she was cut out for this job. He’d seen her falling apart in the break room earlier. He saw past the bravado she was forcing. She’d crack pretty quickly under the pressure he’d apply. Which would work out perfectly.
“You’re going to hate this job,” he explained. “You’ll hate me. You’ll hate this company. I will ask more of you than you are able to give.”
“Great,” Liberty replied with a breathy laugh. “I guess I better stock up on chocolate and coffee.” There it was again. That impish nature that didn’t match the essence she was trying to portray. A silly joke, a nervous laugh, and eyes that couldn’t seem to stay fixed on his.
“Are you really understanding what I’m saying here?” James questioned, raising an eyebrow at her. There was no way the easily distressed woman in the break room who verged on tears because of a tough morning would be cut out for this job. But that worked in James’s favor. He’d figure her out, she’d screw up, he’d be forced to fire her, and then be free to sleep with her. Get her out of his system. Clear his head and keep doing what he needed to here at West Oil. He could use a bit of a game, and she’d be the perfect player. It had been a long time since a woman got stuck in his head the way Liberty Saint-Jane had.
“If you’re trying to scare me into leaving, you should know the only thing I’m afraid of is spiders. Hard work doesn’t frighten me. You don’t either.” Now her eyes were locked with his, and if Mathew wasn’t in the room he was pretty sure they’d be screwing by now. The heat blazing between them, the banter, surely would have erupted into something by now. The challenge of keeping his hands off of her until she failed and wasn’t his employee anymore would be fun. Then finally having her would be even sweeter. Ultimately he knew he was still in control, but this would be a dangerously fun game to play.
“We haven’t talked compensation,” Mathew interrupted. “This is what she makes today
,” he explained, spinning the computer around so James could see the screen.
“Really?” James said in disbelief. “Well if you are as competent as Mathew says and as committed as you are claiming, then let’s triple that salary.” He knew the number didn’t matter. She’d never last. “Add on a twenty-five-thousand-dollar retention bonus to be paid after thirty days of work in this position.” And there it was, the tell James had been looking for. Liberty was standing tall, acting tough, but when the idea of more money crossed the desk there was a flash in her eyes she couldn’t hide. What he’d just offered her was likely more money than she’d ever seen in her lifetime, and she wanted it. That’s what he wanted to know. What was driving her? Why was she here? It was money. The key to James’s success in any endeavor was knowing what motivated someone. Whether it was a relationship, a business deal, or a family affair you had to know what your opponent wanted. How else could you control them?
He watched her face level off before she spoke. “That seems fair,” she said quietly and nearly laughed again.
“Great. Let’s use this first week as a trial,” James said, standing up and tucking his hands in his pockets. “There will be a list on your desk by the end of the day. Let’s see how you do.” He wasn’t all that concerned with how well she did. He needed a highly effective assistant. There was no way she could do the job. But she could serve a different purpose.
“I don’t have a desk,” Liberty explained. “I’ve been working remotely and abroad.”
“About a hundred of them just opened up, walk around the offices and go shopping for one. We’ll use squatter rules. Find one you like and call it your own.” James looked her over again, head to toe. His body pulsed with the urge to run his hands from the sultry curve of her hips, up their silky slopes, then tug her firmly toward him.
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