Charmed: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Willow Springs Series Book 3)

by Laura Pavlov

  But seeing as this was Maura Benson, I’d sooner slam her foot in the door and send her packing. But I wasn’t a complete asshole. Obviously, the girl had impressed her department to get the highest recommendation in her graduating class. I couldn’t shun her that. But I sure as hell didn’t have to like it. I hadn’t realized Satan’s spawn was the actual candidate until I opened the file this morning. I couldn’t do anything about it now. Not anything that would be fair. And as much as I hated the Bensons, I’d never stoop to their level.

  The knock on the door had me sitting up a little straighter.

  Game time.

  “It’s open.”

  Layla strolled in and used her hand to guide Maura to the chairs across my desk. “Mr. Carlisle, this is Maura Benson.”

  I walked around my desk and extended my arm before motioning her to take the seat across from me. When her small hand locked with mine, there was a zip of something. It was probably like the devil touching holy water. But my body responded and was on high alert. “Ms. Benson.”

  Layla dropped into the other chair and opened her file as I made my way back around my desk. “I just realized that you’re both from Willow Springs. Have you met before? I know it’s a fairly small town.”

  She glanced up and looked between us just as I said no, and enemy number one answered yes. Good to know. She was honest. She was already worlds ahead of her father with that one simple answer.

  Her cheeks pinked and she looked up at me. “Oh. Um. Maybe not. I could be confused.”

  I wanted to laugh. I didn’t mind seeing her squirm. I wished it was her father sitting in the chair across from me, but anytime I could make a Benson uncomfortable was a win.

  I studied her features as she looked at me, unsure if I remembered her. The girl was a knockout, no doubt about it. Long dark hair pulled into some sort of twist at the nape of her slender neck and her eyes were honey brown. I’d noticed them the few times we’d met because they were striking. Of course, I knew Maura fucking Benson. Our town was the size of a postage stamp, and we’d both been raised there our entire lives. Though our families gave the Hatfields and the McCoys a run for their money, we still crossed paths occasionally. But I wasn’t about to show my hand, and I didn’t plan to deal with Maura much after today.

  “It’s possible you know who I am, as you were younger than me. But I don’t recall ever meeting you.” I leaned back in my chair and folded my hands on the desk.

  Layla raised a brow at me before narrowing her gaze, trying to figure me out. The woman knew me well. Yes, I could be a dick at the office. Try taking over a billion-dollar company at the age of twenty-five and earning the respect of employees who’d been working there since you were still shitting in diapers and learning to walk. It wasn’t easy. My grandfather had groomed me, and I’d followed his instructions to a tee. Hell, a toddler could follow these three simple rules.

  Take no shit.

  Fake it till you make it.

  Don’t dip your pen in company ink.

  Okay, so maybe the man spoke in idioms and called it a business philosophy—but I listened. He was brilliant and built this company from the ground up when he left his brothers to run the family’s oil company. I wasn’t normally this cold. I’d definitely turned down my inner temp for my meeting with Maura Benson, and I had no intention of thawing any time soon.

  Maura nodded, but her gaze locked with mine and if looks could kill… I believe I’d be a dead man. Guess what, Ms. Benson—looks can’t kill and I hold all the cards right now.

  It was difficult to hide my smile.

  I was going to make Maura Benson my bitch and enjoy every last minute of it.

  Yes. This nightmare had an upside. Things were looking up.

  “That must be it,” she said, and I saw the fire behind her gaze. Pops of yellow and orange danced in her eyes as she looked at me.

  I opened my file and tapped my pen on the desk. “So, Ms. Benson, congratulations on landing this internship. Are you sure you’re up for the task? We require long hours, and things move fast around here. There isn’t a lot of flexibility, so if this isn’t for you, now would be the time to speak up.”

  “We do work around your class schedule,” Layla added and gave me a what the fuck look.

  She had no idea what I was up to.

  Buckle up, Layla. Things are about to get very uncomfortable.

  “I actually only have two courses left to take to graduate, and they both offered remote night class times as an option. My counselor felt that making myself available to you full-time was important.”

  “Wow. That’s amazing. Our interns over the years have never worked full-time.” Layla’s grin spread clear across her face, and she turned to me with one brow raised as if I’d just been benched by Maura fucking Benson.

  Not today, Satan’s spawn.

  “Well, that works out nicely for you. The more time you can spend with Layla, the more you will benefit from the experience. But I do have a couple of questions before we make it official.”

  She shifted in her seat and squared her shoulders. Preparing for battle.

  That’s right, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.

  “Of course. Ask away.”

  “You’re an open book, huh?” I pressed, and Layla shot me a quizzical look. Nothing about this interview was normal and she knew it. She moved to her feet and made her way to the wet bar and poured three glasses of water. She set one down in front of each of us and shot me a look of annoyance, and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

  Maura was an intern.

  Grilling her was completely unnecessary.

  We weren’t even paying her, for God’s sake.

  Guess what? I didn’t give a shit.

  She was a Benson.

  Need I say more?

  “Absolutely.” She picked up her water and smiled at Layla before taking a sip.

  “Great. So, tell me, is your family in the advertising business?” I asked.

  I already knew the answer. She knew that I knew the answer. I was just going to make this painful for the sake of seeing her squirm.

  She set her water glass down. “My family is in the oil business. I assumed you knew that considering your family is in the same business.”

  “That’s right. Must have slipped my mind. So, Ms. Benson, why not go into the oil business? Why advertising?”

  “I have no interest in oil. My brothers both work for my father, but I’m determined to make my own way,” she said, her gaze locked with mine. There was an intensity there that dared me to challenge her.

  Layla’s gaze bounced between Maura and me, and she continued to look completely baffled by my questions.

  “I see.”

  “Wait. Does your family own Benson Oil?” Layla gasped.

  Yes, they were one of two of the largest oil companies not only in the state of Texas but in the US. The second one being Carlisle Oil Company. The two biggest players in the oil industry both happened to be from Willow Springs.

  They don’t call it the heart of Texas for nothing.

  More like the cash king of the state.

  Our families both owned portions of the entire town, but while my father used his wealth for good, Maura’s father used his for his own personal gain. The man was everything I despised. A greedy, selfish, narcissist. He believed in squashing others to keep himself at the top. That’s not the way my family operated, nor was it something I could ever respect.

  “Yes.” Maura cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. This wasn’t something that needed to come out in an interview for an internship in a completely different field, but I couldn’t resist.

  “Wow. I had no idea that the two largest oil companies were both owned by families from the same town. It seems like that would be news.” Layla leaned back in her chair, and I had a fee
ling she was putting two and two together.

  Both families were very well-known in the state in the business world, and most especially in our small town.

  “Learn something new every day,” I said, intertwining my fingers to make a teepee. “But I do believe Carlisle Oil edged out Benson Oil this year in the market.”

  “I wouldn’t know. Like I said, I don’t follow the oil business, which is why I’m here. I plan on pursuing a career in marketing and advertising.”

  Layla smiled and raised a brow at me as if she were enjoying this. As if this girl was holding her own against me.

  She wasn’t.

  Sure, she could keep her temper in check when I mentioned how Carlisle Oil was number one in the market, and I knew it drove her father crazy. The girl had been raised by a shark. I’d expect nothing less. But now I was going to have some fun.

  “Right. So, the only thing left to inquire about is your criminal record.”

  Layla coughed over the sip of water she’d just taken, and Maura shifted in her seat, leaning forward to meet my stare head-on.

  “My criminal record?” she asked, showing absolutely no emotion in her tone, which pissed me off. I wanted to rattle the girl, but so far, she’d held her own.

  “Yes. Do you have one?”

  “I do not.” I could see her physically fighting the urge to roll her eyes, but she remained neutral. Her gaze locked with mine, but I didn’t miss the way her chest was rising and falling much faster than it had been just moments before. I’d struck a nerve.

  Go time.

  “Never had a traffic ticket? A car accident?”

  Layla groaned and then covered her mouth and tried to play it off as a cough. She tossed the file on the desk as if the interview was no longer even happening, and she folded her arms over her chest. This was personal. I’d made it apparent. And I was fine with it. You know what they say…if you can’t stand the heat, get the fuck out of the kitchen. I’d just turned up the heat. Let’s see what the little princess does about it.

  “I’ve had one fender bender in my life.” Her tongue swiped out to wet her bottom lip, and I couldn’t help but take in her full, pouty, pink lips. My dick jumped to attention, and I silently cursed him out for reacting to enemy number one.

  Me and my dick had no interest in Maura Benson.

  Aside from torturing her a bit in this interview. I planned to make sure she kept plenty busy here and stayed out of my hair.

  “Ohhhh. Fender benders can tell you a lot about a person.”

  “I agree,” Maura said, and Layla shook her head at me as if she was very displeased with where I was taking this.

  Too fucking bad.

  If this girl wanted to work here, I was going to ask her whatever the fuck I wanted to ask her.

  “Do you?”

  “Absolutely. You never know what kind of crazy you’re going to be dealing with when you step out of the car. I mean, the guy in front of me slammed on his brakes because he kept looking at me in his rearview mirror. And I know, the person in back is always at fault, even if the creeper is checking you out and slams on his brakes with no warning.” She paused to take a sip of water and my hands formed fists on my desk, so I moved them to my lap. “And then the lunatic gets out of his car and insists on calling the police. Neither car even had a mark. It was absolutely ridiculous.”

  Layla was laughing now. “Who does that? What a jerk.”

  “Totally,” Maura said, and her eyes dance with mischief. “You know what they say about men who need to display power over a woman any which way they can?”

  “What?” Layla asked, and she’s actually entranced with our new intern.

  Maura holds up her thumb and her pointer finger, showing the universal sign for an inch, or a motherfucking small penis. She insults me without actually being able to be called out for it. “I can’t remember the name for it? Small man’s complex?”

  Layla’s head fell back in laughter. “I don’t even think it needs a name. We all know what he was suffering from.”

  I wanted to scream from the rooftops because I happened to have an amazing package. A true award-winning dick. A cock-a-doodle-gold medal-winning penis, if I do say so myself.

  Trust me when I tell you. Johnny Copagna measured all of our dicks in middle school PE, and I didn’t get the nickname King Kong for no reason.

  “It sounds like you should have been watching the road and not worrying about how, er, tall he was.” I cleared my throat and set my oversized hands on the desk, making sure she sees them. And before I can stop myself, I kick my legs up and set my feet on the desk.

  Yeah, check that out, Satan’s spawn. These here are some oversized hands and feet. Do the math, genius.

  Layla’s eyes bulge out of her head as if I’ve lost my mind, and Maura Benson just leans back in her chair and smiles.

  Like she’s won this one.

  But she couldn’t be more wrong.

  “Wait. So, what happened? Did the police come?”

  “They did.” Maura chuckled, and her cheeks pinked. “But lucky for me, the officer was my neighbor and thought the whole thing was ridiculous. So, to answer your question. I wasn’t even cited. We handled it without anyone serving time.”

  Martin Powell happened to be one of my best friends back home. I called him there just to fuck with her. But the douchesack got all googly-eyed over her and fucked it up.

  “Thank goodness.” Layla shrugged at me. “Looks like she’s not a felon, boss. Do you have any more questions regarding her criminal background or can I take her for the tour of the building and go over her duties?”

  “I think we’ve covered enough. I’ll still have that background check done,” I said, moving to my feet. I wouldn’t be running a background check on her, but I wanted to fuck with her a little more.

  I shook her hand, and she glared just enough for me to notice when she thanked me in her sugary-sweet voice.

  She thought she’d survived this little showdown. Hell, she probably thought she’d won it.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carlisle.”

  “I’m sure it is.” I pulled my hand away and walked to the door.

  She made her way out into the hallway and Layla turned around, sure that Maura couldn’t see her and dramatically mouthed the words, What the fuck was that?

  I rolled my eyes.

  I wasn’t dignifying that crazy question with an answer.

  Mostly because I didn’t have one.

  But I knew one thing for certain.

  Me and my gigantic, award-winning dick were just getting started.

  Chapter Three

  Maura

  Ivy and I sat at our dining room table as we waited for the girls to come into focus on our computer screen. They wanted an update on the first week at my new job.

  “Hey, hey,” Coco said, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears. “How was the first week?”

  I’d already filled the girls in on my insane interview on day one with my new egotistical jackass of a boss. He’d acted like a lunatic, and I knew that Layla thought so too, though she hadn’t said a word about it to me since. But the way she’d responded during the meeting had let me know that his behavior was out of character.

  Crew Carlisle was a complete jerk. But the good news was that I wouldn’t be dealing with him all that much. I’d barely seen him this week, and I’d put in long hours. I was exhausted.

  Gigi and Addy came into view just then, waving and smiling into the camera. “What did we miss?”

  They both laughed as they spoke at the same time.

  We were all connected in a way most people couldn’t understand.

  My girls were more like family than friends.

  “Maura is just going to tell us about her week. Between work and class, I’ve barely seen her, and we live
together,” Ivy said, twirling the pen in her hands.

  “It was great. I’ve barely seen that arrogant jerk, so I’d call it a good week. Layla is amazing. I am so happy that I get to work with her. She said I’m the best student she’s ever had,” I said, and I couldn’t hide my enormous smile. “And I love everyone that works there. I think it’s going to be a great experience.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Gigi said.

  Ivy sat beside me writing frantically in her notebook. “I can’t wait to see what Crew says when he hears how well you’re doing.”

  “I can’t wait to hear what he looks like if you ever get to see him naked,” Coco said, wriggling her brows.

  “Girl, you’ve got a one-track mind.” Ivy shook her head at Coco, and everyone laughed.

  “Come on. You aren’t a little curious, Maura?” Coco asked.

  “I’m not blind. Obviously, he’s gorgeous. But I can’t stand him. And every word that comes out of his mouth is vile. So, no. I have no desire to see the man naked. Unless I were to walk in on him in the bathroom and find out he really did have a small penis, and then I would enjoy getting to tell you that you were wrong.”

  “Trust me when I tell you… Crew Carlisle is hung like a racehorse.”

  “Coco, I am not putting that in the book,” Ivy said over her laughter.

  “And why not?”

  “Because you know how I feel about following the rules. And without proof… it’s not going in the book.”

  “You and your damn rules. So, something strange happened today,” Coco said, and her gaze softened which told me it was serious.

  “What’s that?”

  “Um… I heard Ty on the radio. His song is apparently hitting the top of the charts everywhere,” she said, and her eyes were filled with empathy. “But the good news is that I’m quite certain that song was written for you, Ive.”