by Leddy Harper
“I don’t know…I guess I get shy. Sometimes I don’t know how to react to compliments. I don’t know what to say to someone who comments about my appearance. It’s not insecurity; it’s more like feeling nervous, I guess.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be shy or nervous. It’s just a compliment. I’m sure you get them a lot. You should be used to them by now, and if not, then you’ve been around the wrong people.” I hadn’t meant for my words to come across as flirtatious, but they did so anyhow.
“Thank you.” Her gaze never left mine as her eyes sparked—no, flared—widening slightly. The taut corners of her mouth twitched and the light in her eyes brightened, but it wasn’t until the tension in my expression loosened, my own lips turning up, that I saw hers do the same. I couldn’t remember the last time I had the ability to trigger someone else’s happiness.
“That’s better.” I couldn’t take my eyes off hers, no matter how hard I tried. I’m sure it made her uncomfortable, but she never turned away, either.
She twirled her straw around in her cup, shifting around the ice at the bottom. “Well, it’s getting late and I’m finished with my drink. Do you have any more advice before I leave?”
The notion of her leaving weighed heavily around me like a dense fog of despair. I didn’t like it. I shouldn’t have wanted her to stay, but thinking of her walking away left me teetering on the cusp of misery. As if my happiness had been tethered to her. I didn’t want her to go. I longed to bathe in her presence for a little while longer. But I knew she couldn’t stay. And I shouldn’t want her to stay.
“Just be you,” was all I had to offer her.
“Thank you, Dane. I really enjoyed your company tonight.”
“Anytime, Eden.” I wanted to tell her how much I’d enjoyed hers as well, but I didn’t. The words wouldn’t leave my tongue. I knew they’d sound desperate and pathetic, giving away the sorrow deeply embedded within me. She’d been so easy to talk to, and I only wanted to live in that moment with her for a little while longer.
To forget for a little bit more.
As she walked away, leaving me alone at the table, I knew I’d be left thinking about her for days. Maybe not her, but the feelings she’d brought to the surface. She’d offered me a sense of normalcy for the first time in eons. And she’d made me smile. I’d been convinced I no longer had the ability to do anything other than scowl. But for thirty minutes, I was able to remember how it felt to enjoy life, to be carefree. I was able to recognize that piece of me hadn’t fully died.
I didn’t want it to end, but I knew it had to.
I sat on the stool for a little bit longer until I knew I had to leave. I had to go home. I didn’t want to, but I had no other choice. At least I knew there was hope for me yet. I wasn’t sentenced to a life of sadness, surrounded by tears and heartache. Enjoying Eden’s company may have been wrong, but at least it proved to me there was still something worth fighting for.
2
I rushed to work, forcing myself not to look at the time. Usually, I was the first one to walk through the main doors, but this morning, it wouldn’t surprise me if I’d been the last. I’d had one hell of a morning so far, causing me to run behind. Exhaustion weighted my feet, but my irritation over being late fueled my steady pace into the building.
By the time I’d made it home last night, she was hysterical. I did everything I could to be patient, supportive, and calm her down. But nothing seemed to work. She had no desire to talk, and she refused to take anything. All she did was curl into a ball and cry. Finally, she fell asleep, but it didn’t come so easily for me.
I’d tossed and turned, the weight of guilt crushing me. Guilt for not wanting to be home, for going to the bar when I knew her mood before I’d left for work yesterday morning. However, the majority of my shame came from not being able to be what she needed. For not being able to take away the pain and misery she felt day in and day out.
After less than four hours of sleep, I woke with the sun, already knowing I’d slept later than intended. I hadn’t wanted to wake her—she needed to sleep—so I quietly got ready for the office, which did nothing but make me run even further behind.
I made it through the heavy doors, the ones with “Kauffmann Investments” boldly etched into the glass, with enough time to catch a blur of red hair in the lobby. Suddenly, my tardiness no longer plagued me. I stopped in my tracks and watched the woman as she made her way through the doors to the public relations department.
I shook my head. It couldn’t have been Eden. Eden had a degree in finance. She’d have no business in public relations. My attention was immediately taken from my thoughts of Eden when Gina, the main receptionist for the building, greeted me.
“You’re late. Is everything okay?” Crystal-clear blue eyes, decorated with smile lines that showed her age, met mine, and in them, I saw deep concern. Yet another reminder of how off-kilter my morning had started.
I checked my watch and glanced back up at her with exaggerated distress. “I’m not late, Gina.” I waited until she cocked her head, confusion marring her slightly aged face. “You must’ve gotten here really early this morning. Just for that, I’ll make sure to bring you flowers twice this week.”
Her cheeks brightened as she swatted the air between us. “The ones you brought me last week are still very much alive. You spoil me, Mr. Kauffmann.”
I peered over both shoulders, taking in the lobby behind me, and then leaned over the desk toward her. I lowered my voice and said, “My dad’s here? Where? Tell him I’m in a meeting.” When she giggled, I leaned back and winked. “One of these days, Gina, you’ll learn to call me Dane. Mr. Kauffmann is my father.”
I smiled and carried on down the hall toward my office with slightly less weight on my shoulders than when I’d walked in.
I had about seventy emails waiting in my inbox when I turned on my computer, but I ignored them and logged right into the applicant database. I needed a peek. Just one quick look to ease my mind. I only needed to prove to myself it hadn’t been her in the lobby.
But then I found it.
Eden Lesley Clare, twenty-five years old.
It had all her credentials: her schooling, majors, minors—which were quite impressive—and recommendations from her professors at NYU. Her résumé was flawless, and it was clear she’d come to the right company. However, she had an interview for a receptionist position in public relations. I couldn’t fathom why she would waste her talents in the wrong department.
I picked up the phone and dialed the number to find out the answers I sought. After a few questions, my suspicions were verified. Eden Clare had an interview with them. For the receptionist position. I hadn’t even hung up the phone before standing from my chair, my decision made.
I don’t remember leaving my office or flying down the hall. I don’t remember passing the building’s receptionist counter or making my way into the lobby of the PR department. Even the cold door handle didn’t register. Everything was a blur until I found her sitting alone in the waiting area.
Eden Lesley Clare, age twenty-five.
She was as gorgeous during the day as she was at night.
And all I could do was stare.
Luckily, she didn’t notice me. She kept her head down, reading a magazine in her lap, so I took the time to admire her and put myself in check. She had her hair up in a sleek bun. Her makeup was soft and natural, not at all like last night. Her lips were glossy, though not a hint of color to them. However, I found her equally as stunning as before.
I should’ve left.
I should’ve gone back to my office.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I closed the space between us until I stood only a few feet away. I waited until she glanced up, taking notice of me. Her striking eyes widened, a gasp piercing the silence.
Another step prompted her to stand until we found ourselves face to face, the scent of gardenia filling the air around us. It consumed me and reminded me of happier ti
mes.
“What are you doing here?” Her words were quiet and restrained. Her big eyes stayed with mine as she waited for my response. Those eyes. They were a dark green, a really dark green. I had never seen anything like them before.
Rather than answering her question, I said, “Come with me.” I shouldn’t have taken her hand, or dragged her down the hall, or led her into my office. I definitely shouldn’t have closed the door behind us.
But I did.
“What’s going on?” Her shaky voice ran through me, making me feel every ounce of her fear as if it were my own. She should’ve been scared. Lord knew I was.
I turned to face her, but we maintained our distance. “Why did you apply with PR? You have a degree in finance. Why wouldn’t you use it? A receptionist? Why? I don’t understand.”
“No, I’m the one who doesn’t understand. What are you even doing here? How do you know where I applied? Are you stalking me?” Her gaze darted around my office as if she was able to take everything in with one quick glance. “Do you work here?”
I simply nodded and stuck my hands into my pockets, rocking on the balls of my feet. It had seemed like such a great idea to go and steal her from PR, but now I didn’t know how to get out of the situation gracefully.
“I cannot believe you work here,” she whispered under her breath.
I finally caught her attention when I once again asked, “Why PR?”
She stood in the middle of the large room, twisting her fingers together in front of her. “It was the only department hiring, so I figured I could at least get my foot in the door and then look into transferring.”
“That’s a lie. There are always positions available.”
Eden shrugged and stared at the floor.
It was enough to draw me closer to her, but I had to stop before I ate up the distance that separated us. “You don’t belong in public relations. It’s a waste of your talent.”
“Then where should I be, Dane?”
I glanced around the room, noticing the closed door on one wall. It led to an office that hadn’t been used in years, no one ever qualified enough to fill it, and that’s when it hit me. A thought I should’ve pushed away. But I didn’t.
“I need an assistant, someone to help me come up with business plans, cost sheets, risk charts, and execution plans. If this sounds interesting to you, I’d like to interview you for it.” The words rushed out in a tidal wave before I could stop them. My brain took over the conversation and I had no control.
Her eyes widened. Even though she didn’t have on much makeup, and her clothes were way more conservative than what she wore last night, she still managed to have the same effect on me. I craved her company, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
“The pay is better, the position is better, and at least you’ll be able to do what you went to school for.”
She nodded and mumbled, “Okay.”
I moved around my desk and sat in the chair, extending an arm to offer her one of the seats across from me. After she timidly sat down, I began the impromptu interview.
“What made you choose Kauffmann Investments?”
Her spine straightened, her eyes finally meeting mine. In an instant, something changed and her confidence took over. “It’s an amazing company. I appreciate and value the care they take when handling the future of other businesses. I really admire the work and efforts made to save establishments from going under. I once read an article about one of the first ventures Mr. Kauffmann made. He took on this small business, but he couldn’t save it. He felt horrible about leaving employees without income, so he hired the ones willing to relocate and paid the others out of his own pocket. It convinced me I wanted to work for him.”
“How much do you know about him?”
“Who? Mr. Kauffmann? Almost nothing at all. It was the business as a whole that got to me. I wouldn’t be working for him, so to speak. I’d be working for his corporation, but ultimately, I’d work for the people who need saving.”
Her answers impressed me and nearly had me hiring her that second, but I had to continue with this for the sake of appearances. “I get very busy and I need a lot of help. I don’t need someone to fetch my mail or make me coffee. I have a receptionist to handle the basics—phone calls and faxes. I wouldn’t require my assistant to handle those things. I need someone who has the ability to make split-second decisions, someone who has corporate perception. Is this something you think you’d be interested in?”
She bit her lip, contemplative almost.
“Is there a problem?” My voice came out harsher than I intended. I held my breath until she answered.
She sat straighter in her chair, resuming the confidence she’d sat down with. “Well, sir…”
“Dane. You can call me Dane.”
“Okay, Dane…you asked me a question I’m not sure how to answer. I mean, you’ve only explained the things you don’t need me to do. I would definitely be interested in not fetching your mail or coffee or answering phones and faxes.” Her smirk nearly rendered me speechless.
And then my own lips curled, reigniting the burn in my cheeks that had started last night. “You’re absolutely correct, Eden. I apologize. Your job would include compiling lists of possible acquisitions, researching all those possibilities, and rejecting the ones I shouldn’t bother with to save me time. I may ask you to gather additional background information, or attend a meeting in my place…that sort of thing. Your job would pretty much be to make my life easier.”
Her grin widened and the green in her eyes deepened to the color of a genuine emerald. “Yes, Dane. That I can do.” She exhaled and her shoulders fell slightly. “This is the type of position I aspired to gain by working here. Wow. I’m not sure what else to say.”
I looked her right in the eyes and acknowledged, “I know a good thing when I see it. I’m not the only one making out in this deal. I promise you that.” I let that sink in before continuing. “But I do have to tell you, taking this position would require you to travel some. I will be relying on you, and eventually, entrusting you with a lot of responsibility. I was serious when I said I don’t need you to run menial errands. I need you to do what I do to help me out.”
“I can handle that. I’m the person for the job.”
“Good. I like to hear that,” I said with a smirk, remembering the advice I’d given her last night. “Can you tell me a little bit about why you chose this line of work?”
“Have you ever seen the movie Rain Man?”
I nodded and wondered where she was going with this.
“Well, I loved the movie and idolized him.”
That wasn’t the answer I expected. “Which one, Dustin Hoffman or Tom Cruise?”
“Dustin Hoffman.”
“The autistic one?”
Her brows scrunched together and her lips pursed. She straightened her spine and her shoulders became taut, but not in the confident way I’d seen this morning. More of an insulted reaction. “You may remember his character as being autistic, but I remember him as a numbers genius.”
“I didn’t mean anything bad by it—”
“People with autism—and take note, I didn’t say who suffer from—are beautiful and smart, highly intellectual, and incredibly gifted. I’d be willing to bet they could do your job better than you. They are amazing individuals who happen to think differently, but people like you are too ignorant to see that.” And then she was out of her seat.
“Wait.” I stood, holding my hands out to stop her. “That’s not what I meant. I am not ignorant. I don’t see people by the color of their skin or their gender. And I certainly don’t see them for any disease, illness, handicap, or any other label put upon them.”
I paused to catch my breath, needing to take control of my temper before continuing. “I know what I said sounded ignorant, and I apologize for that, but please understand the words simply came out wrong. I only meant to verify which character he played. It’s been a while since I’ve seen t
he movie.”
Her cheeks flamed. I watched as her throat worked with a harsh swallow, her gaze flitting around my desk, avoiding me altogether.
“Can we sit down and resume the interview?” I remained standing, waiting for her to make the decision. Once she nodded and took her seat again, I took mine and proceeded. “You will have your own office”—I pointed to the wall behind her—“right through there. It has its own door to the hall, and the receptionist will handle your calls as well. Off by five every evening, unless of course you’re out of town, and every weekend and holiday off. Evaluations are quarterly, and bonuses at the end of the year based on hours worked. Do you agree to this?”
She nodded at the same time my office phone rang. I groaned with irritation. The receptionist was new, and it seemed as though he didn’t understand how to use the intercom. Instead, he simply transferred calls, regardless of whether I was busy or not. I held up a finger and lifted the phone from the cradle.
It took me a second to understand who was on the line. She was hysterical, but eventually, I realized who it was when she said she needed me to come home. I knew she hadn’t been up long, and after the night she had, her frantic disposition didn’t surprise me. To appease her, I promised to make it home. I had to finish up with some urgent work and then I’d be there with her until she calmed down. It didn’t happen often—that she’d ask me to be with her—but when she did, I was there. I would always be there.
I hung up the phone and returned my attention to Eden, apologizing for the interruption. “I’m sorry, but I have to run out of the office for a little bit. I guess the interview was pretty much finished. All I need now is your answer. I’m offering you the job…if you’ll take it.”
“Of course. Thank you very much, Dane.”
“You can head down to HR and fill out all the new-hire information. They’ll discuss salary and benefits with you. We’ll meet here tomorrow morning at eight. Does that work for you?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She stood and headed for the door. I followed her and held it open, but I paused when she bit her lip and turned to me. “What exactly am I telling them when I get there?”