by Claire Adams
Lilliana had dressed up like Elvira, Princess of Darkness, and as we made our way through the crowded room, it seemed like every eye was on her – until I saw Logan Moreau. He was dressed like a gangster in a pin-striped suit and fedora, and his blue eyes found my mine and locked onto them.
I froze like an idiot, and when I realized I was staring at him, I felt my face go hot. He smiled and waved me over. Lilliana had already found someone to talk to, which wasn’t surprising, so I left her where she stood and headed over to Logan’s table.
I was about halfway there, walking like a baby deer in my new shoes, when I tripped. I felt my ankle twist sideways and suddenly I was falling. I reached out in a panic to stop myself and ended up gripping onto something that felt as hard as steel, but encased in a fine fabric. When I looked up, I was staring at my new boss’ face again. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement.
I was mortified.
CHAPTER FOUR
LOGAN
I watched my new intern – and if Mel was to be believed, my future bride – walk in the door of the club with some tall, willowy model. I’m pretty sure most of the eyes in the room were on the tall girl in the skimpy, black bodysuit. She was hot, but not really my type. She did look familiar, though. I didn’t waste too much time on remembering where I knew her from, however.
Instead, I was captivated by the sight of Chloe in a short, skin-tight dress. Her blonde hair hung in ringlets to her shoulders, and she wore a red, lace headband with a big, black flower on the side of it. Her lips were painted a deep red and even from across the room, I could see her caramel eyes sparkle.
I’d thought she was cute in her frumpy sweater the first time I saw her, but the sight of her that night ignited something deep inside my core. I let my eyes roam down to her legs that looked a mile long in the skirt and six-inch heels she was wearing. That was about the time it all went bad…or maybe good, depending on how you looked at it.
She stepped from the floor onto the carpet and her ankle turned. I practically broke out into a jog as I saw her begin to go down. Her mouth formed a little “O,” but it was too noisy in the dark club to hear what came out of it.
I made it to her in time to catch her in my arms just before she hit the floor, and damn she felt good. She clutched onto me for a few seconds and my heart raced in my chest like I was the one who had almost fallen. I held her too long and stared down into her sexy, soulful eyes.
“Um, I’m okay to stand up now,” she said, sounding embarrassed.
I tried not to look amused as I righted her up on her feet. I held onto her arm just in case and asked, “Are you okay?”
Her face was scarlet. I don’t think I’d ever known a woman who blushed so often. Her voice cracked slightly as she said, “I’m mortified.” I did chuckle at that. She was also one of the most honest and sincere people I’d ever met.
“Can you stand up okay?” She nodded and pulled back slightly, breaking free of my hold. She teetered a bit, but balanced herself with her hands out to her sides.
“It’s the shoes,” she told me.
I was still trying to keep a straight face, but quickly lost the battle. I grinned and said, “You think?”
“I’m so happy I could entertain you. Do you mind helping me to a place where I can sit down so I don’t embarrass myself further?”
I took her arm again and led her toward my booth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.” I was still smiling, though. She was just so damned cute and much more appealing than the women gracefully floating around the room in their stilettos.
As I helped her slide into the booth in the corner, she said, “It’s okay. I’m sure everyone else in the room is laughing, too. I’m a dork.”
I looked around the dark, crowded room. “I’m sure nobody even noticed.” I slid into the other side of the booth as she said,
“I really like your costume.”
“Thanks. I’m Bugsy Malone.” I waved over the cocktail waitress.
“Oh, I would have said Pretty Boy Floyd.”
I laughed. “And, why is that?”
“Just because you’re…” She blushed again. I was going to press her to finish, but the cocktail waitress was standing over us.
“What can I get for you, Mr. Moreau?”
“Chloe, what would you like to drink?”
“A white wine? Please.”
“A white wine for the lady, and I’ll have another dark beer.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll be right back.” As the waitress left, I saw Chloe squint at something across the room. I turned to see what she was looking at, and she said, “Isn’t that Josiah talking to my roommate?”
The dark-haired model and Josiah stood close to the bar and looked like they were engaged in an animated conversation. “Is she from Minnesota, too?”
Chloe giggled. I liked the sound of it. “She wouldn’t be caught dead in Minnesota,” she said, stressing her accent. I smiled, and she went on to say, “She is New York, born and bred.”
“Good, then. I wouldn’t worry about her and Josiah. I’m sure she can handle him.”
She furrowed her brow at me and asked, “What are you trying to say?”
I realized I’d offended her. “I just meant that she’s probably more used to guys like him than...” I realized I was making it worse even before she said,
“A farmer’s daughter?”
My face may have turned a little red. I stopped there and said, “I didn’t mean any offense.”
She smiled. “I didn’t take any. I was just giving you a hard time. I’m sure you’re right, and whatever Josiah throws at Lilliana, she can handle. Is my new boss a player?”
“No,” I thought that question came out of left field. “I mean, I date a lot, but not really.”
She began to giggle uncontrollably. When she could breathe again she said, “I meant Josiah.”
Again, my face was hot. I hadn’t had this much trouble talking to a woman since I was sixteen. This girl had a strange effect on me. I laughed, too, and said, “Oh, well yeah, Josiah is definitely a player.”
“But not you,” she asked almost flirtatiously.
“No way.”
“You just date a lot.”
“Right.”
She giggled again. The waitress was back with our drinks and Chloe picked her wine glass up and took a sip of it. Her red lipstick left a ring on the rim of the glass and my mind went back to places it shouldn’t.
She sat her wine glass down and looked around the club again. “What do you think of the club?” I asked.
“I love the decorations,” she said.
Normally, it was decorated in an under the sea type of theme, but for tonight it had been transformed into a nightmare. The usually brightly-colored sea creatures that swam in the tanks lining the walls had been transformed by ultraviolet lights. They looked black and slimy, and some of them became transparent. A model of a dead octopus was extended from the ceiling, and it gripped a dummy of a man in a diving suit in one of its slimy tentacles.
The buffet was laden with fresh food, but snakes and spiders covered the stainless steel counter around it, and the dance floor was white with lights that shone up from underneath and created silhouettes of monsters and dead bodies.
As far as Halloween decorations went, I think my party planner outdid herself.
“I love Halloween,” Chloe continued. “When I was a kid, it was my favorite holiday.”
“It’s not any longer?”
“I still love it, but no. I think I like Christmas the best now.”
“That’s right around the corner.”
“I know. My parents are really upset with me for coming to New York right before the holidays. It will be my first Christmas without my family.”
“You won’t be able to fly home and spend it with them?”
“Oh, I’m not sure I’d be able to afford it so soon after moving to the city,” she said.
I spent most of my time with people that have
money. Sometimes, I forgot that everyone wasn’t rich. She suddenly looked sad, or wistful, so trying to change the subject, I asked her,
“Do you want to get something to eat?”
“Yes! I’m starving.”
“You’ll have to brave the snakes and spiders around the buffet,” I told her with a wink.
“I’m more worried about braving the stilettos,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll eat the snakes and spiders if they get in my way.” I laughed, too, and slid out of the booth. I held my arm out and said,
“I’ll be your crutch.”
“Thank God,” she said, “I’m liable to break my neck in these stilts.”
I slid an arm around her waist and led her through the crowd and across the floor to the buffet. I kept my hand on the small of her back while she fixed her plate, and as we walked back to the booth, I finally decided that I could do this. I was sure I could get this young woman to fall in love with me, and I might even enjoy it.
She smiled up at me as she slid back into the booth, and that was when a sliver of guilt wormed its way into my head. I was planning to use this naïve, fresh-faced farmer’s daughter for my own agenda.
It wouldn’t be the first time in my life that I’d used another person to get what I wanted, but I had always found a way to rationalize my decisions to do so. In this case, I’d have to keep reminding myself that as long as she was treated kindly and as Mel had said, “handsomely compensated,” there weren’t any real losers here, were there?
CHAPTER FIVE
CHLOE
Monday morning, I was awake at the crack of dawn. My stomach was a bundle of nerves about starting at the investment firm and I just couldn’t turn off my thoughts. I finally just got out of bed and headed out into the kitchen to make the coffee. I was shocked to find my roommate already pouring herself a cup.
“Good morning,” I said as I got a mug out of the cabinet. “You’re up early.”
“I have a photo shoot at ten. There should be a law against it.”
“At ten? It’s only five now.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “You obviously don’t understand what it takes to get ready for the camera. What are you doing up so early?”
I sat down at the table as Lilliana took the seat across from me. “It’s the first day of my internship, and I couldn’t sleep. I’m excited.’
“To see your yummy boss?”
My face went hot, and I hoped it wasn’t turning red. “No, to start learning the business.”
“You get to work with Josiah Gray. He’s yummy, too.”
“I’m not interested in their yumminess,” I told her. “I want to learn everything they know. One of these days, I want to run my own investment firm.”
“Ambitious. You know what would be easier than learning everything they know?”
I was afraid to ask, but figured she’d tell me either way. “What’s that?”
“Fucking the boss.”
I knew my face was red then. “I’m not going to sleep with my boss.”
“Why not? He’s so freaking hot. Are you gay?”
“No, I am not gay. I am also not interested in becoming the next notch in Logan Moreau’s bedpost.”
“I’d do it,” she told me in a matter-of-fact tone, “Gladly. I mean, who the hell cares if he gets the notch? How many chances are you going to have to get naked with a gorgeous billionaire?”
“None, and no chance this time,” I said. I went over to put my cup in the sink. Lilliana was only making my nerves worse and the caffeine probably would, too. “I’m going to get in the shower.”
“You know, I need to take you make-up shopping.”
“Make-up?”
“Yeah, you know, mascara, lipstick, foundation… All of the things every other woman you run into in New York wears except you. I keep telling you, Minnesota, if you’re going to make it here, you’ll have to learn at least a little bit about fashion.”
I sighed. “Okay, after I get my first paycheck.” I tried to get away from her again as she said,
“Fine. There’s a black make-up bag on the sink in your bathroom. Use that for now.”
I crinkled my forehead. “When did you put something on the sink in my bathroom?”
She smiled. “While you were sleeping.”
I stepped into my room without saying anything further and closed the door. Maybe I needed to get a lock. I shuddered at the thought of Lilliana being in there while I was asleep. It was just creepy.
I went into the bathroom and sure enough, there was the make-up bag. I looked inside of it. There was face powder, blush, mascara, eyeliner, and lipstick. I didn’t even know how to put most of it on right. Make-up had been something for going to prom or a wedding in my world up to now. The kind of work we did at home required a strong back and arms and lots of stamina. Our usual dress was far from fashionably chic.
I rolled my eyes and turned on the shower. A gush of brown water rushed out before it cleared enough for me to step into it after I stripped. I stared at the cracked tile while the spray cascaded down my back and thought about everything I’d learned since I’ve been in New York. The bottom line seemed to be that I didn’t fit in.
I smiled when I thought about the MBA I’d just finished earning. I planned on showing them all that a woman with brains could go just as far as a woman with beauty in this town.
*****
My idea about “showing them” didn’t go over so well. My first day consisted of a lecture from Josiah about how to present myself to get ahead in the business world in New York. He reminded me of how stiff the competition was and asked me if I was the employer and was hiring, would I choose the girl in the potato sack with no make-up on and her hair in a messy bun, or the woman in the sharp business suit with her make-up just so and her hair professionally highlighted and styled. My answer was,
“I’d choose whomever was most qualified.”
“And, what if they were equally qualified.”
“Then, I’d go on personality.”
“And, what if you actually liked both of them.”
I sighed. I’d expected to be busy today with lots of work. I hadn’t expected to field personal questions thrown at me by my new boss. “I don’t know, I guess that’s as far as I can go without actually knowing these people.”
“Well, I do know,” Josiah said. “Because I beat out a guy with a comb-over and a pot-belly for this job. He was more qualified than I was. He had ten years of experience in his field. I talked to one of the interviewers later, and she told me that I had the job as soon as they saw me, and it was because they couldn’t bear the thought of looking at the other guy day in and day out.
“Look, Chloe, I’m not trying to insult you; I’m trying to help you. I can see that you’re a very attractive woman. I can also see that you could be drop-dead gorgeous with just a little bit of effort. Trust me when I say that in this town, appearance has as much of an ability to make or break you as intelligence or talent.”
I wondered if this is what Lilliana and Josiah had talked about at the party the other night. What he just said was almost word for word what she had already told me.
“Thank you for the advice, Josiah. I do appreciate it.”
“Good because Mel just called, and she wants to take you shopping.”
“What? When?” I didn’t want to go shopping with Melanie. She was one of those women like Lilliana who were just born glamorous. She looked more like a billionaire’s girlfriend rather than his personal assistant.
“She said in about…” The door opened and he looked over. “Right now.”
I looked at Mel. She walked like she was being blown in on a gentle breeze. Her long, chestnut hair was down, but she’d done a braid on either side of her head and they connected in the back. She was wearing a burgundy jacket with a smoke-gray, silk blouse underneath, a burgundy pencil skirt, and a pair of heels that made my ankles hurt just looking at them.
She smiled as she approached. Eve
ry one of her teeth were perfect in size, shape, and color. I wondered if she had veneers. Her green eyes almost sparkled as she said, “Hi, Chloe! Did Josiah tell you Mr. Moreau authorized your clothing allowance, so you and I are going shopping?” She almost squealed. She was obviously an enthusiastic shopper.
“Oh…um… Shouldn’t I be working?”
“There will be plenty of time for that. When your boss says go shopping, you go shopping. Grab your bag; the car is waiting for us.”
I looked at Josiah, but he was already staring at the numbers on his computer again. I could see he would be of no help. I grabbed my purse and as Mel and I walked toward the door, I noticed a few of the women in the room giving me dirty looks. I’d just met most of them that morning and they were friendly then. When we got out of the analyst’s room and into the elevator alone, I asked Mel,
“Does Mr. Moreau give clothing allowances to all of his employees?”
“Oh, heaven’s no! That would be way too expensive.”
“Then, why me? Do I look that bad? Does Mr. Moreau think I’m some kind of country bumpkin?” I looked down at the peach business suit I was wearing with my matching flats. I knew I wasn’t runway worthy, but I didn’t think I looked that bad.
“No, honey, you don’t look bad. But you are technically Mr. Moreau’s personal intern, and he just has a certain image to present and uphold. I got a clothing allowance when I first started working for him, and I’ve always lived in New York and I have also always prided myself on my fashion sense.
“You’ll understand after you’ve been here for a while that how you present yourself is a big part of whether you become successful. I know that sounds superficial, but unfortunately, it’s true, especially for women in this city.”
I knew she was telling the truth based on the women I’d seen so far. Men, too. I just thought it was strange that Logan Moreau was willing to pay for my clothes, rather than hire an intern who already had some fashion sense.
Mr. Glen, my Advanced Business Analytics professor, was the one that referred me to Moreau. He’d told me that he was good friends with Logan’s father. I hope I’m not getting special treatment because of that. I saw the looks on the faces of those women and I felt like they may already resent me. “One more question?”