“I shouldn’t take time for lunch, but I really need a drink.” She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment.
I stayed silent and watched her as we waited for our drinks. My eyes roamed her perfect nose, her sun-kissed cheeks, and waves of fair hair. She was a beautiful woman.
The waiter returned and set our glasses in front of us. Beads of condensation ran down the outside of the glasses and soaked into the white tablecloth.
She had a healing cut on her forehead and an old, fading bruise reaching up across her left collarbone. I picked up my scotch, ice clinking, and took a sip. I rolled it around in my mouth before letting it slide down my throat. “How did you get that cut?” I pointed to the soft pink mark over her eyebrow.
“I wrecked my car last month,” she said, opening her eyes and reaching for her martini. She coughed as the first taste of vodka filled her mouth. The sour of the green apple made her lips pucker invitingly, “And Dad cut me off.” She took a deep breath and waved away my concerned expression. “I’ll be fine. I just went back to talk to him today and he refused to see me. He’s blocked me from his offices completely. I’ve been working this past month, and I can continue to do so. It’s time I stood on my own two feet, anyway.”
“That cut looks like it was pretty bad.” I reached across the table and tilted her head up so I could see it better. “Did you have anyone look at it? You probably should have gotten stitches.”
Just one finger touching her chin sent jolts of electricity through my body. Why am I reacting this way?
Kinsey shook her head and squared her shoulders. She lifted her chin to look me straight in the eye. “I’ll be okay. I’ve had worse.”
That must have been one heck of a car accident, I thought. I wonder if Noah even noticed.
I listened to her talk about her morning as I sat across from her in the bustling cafe. She was young, naïve, and sheltered. I could understand why she was upset. She would be okay, though. I could see she had a backbone of steel; it was just the first time she’d had to rely on it.
“Do you remember when I first started coming to dinner with my brother?” I asked Kinsey when we hit a lull in the conversation.
“I think your brother started coming over first, right?” She grew pensive as she thought back to those years. “And then you started tagging along after a few months?”
“Yes. Mom was working all the time, always at her two jobs, and I was a wild teenager up to no good. Mark first brought me with him to keep me out of trouble. Then later I asked to come so I could learn more about the business.”
Kinsey shook her head. “Dad was so proud of you two. First of your brother when he started learning his business, then of how quickly you picked up on everything he told you. I was so jealous. He never looked at me that way. I was supposed to be seen and not heard.”
As I listened, I watched Kinsey’s mood change. She had the same expression on her face as she’d worn to all those dinners. She was still the lost little girl, starved for attention.
“Those meals were great! I learned so much from your dad. Even after Mark took over our dad’s fledgling company and was too busy to come, your dad still welcomed me to dinner. I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor. Noah is an amazing businessman.”
“Yeah, and a terrible father,” she said flatly, her eyes narrowed.
I watched her sit across from me, determined to maintain her poise after the crushing encounter with her father, I wondered how I could help her. What can I offer her that won’t insult her?
I surprised myself as I said something completely unplanned. “I need a secretary.” I paused, then swallowed more scotch. “It’s just for a little while. My executive assistant is taking a few months off, and I need a replacement.”
Kinsey blinked her wide eyes at me. “What? Me? Why me?”
“You’re smart and stronger than you think. You are your father’s daughter, after all.” I set my glass down, making the ice rattle inside.
“I’ve never had a real job,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I’m doing work study right now, working in the cafeteria during the day and my professor’s lab at night.” Then she perked up. “I helped my mom out with her social engagements and stuff before she died. When she was gone, I ran the household for Dad.”
I gazed at her across the table. “You’re in college. That’s where you are doing work-study, right? How is that going?”
“I’m on the dean’s list.” Kinsey was quick to answer. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before more words rushed out. “One of my professors offered me a job in his lab when he liked my work. I like that a lot more than bussing tables in the cafeteria.”
I wasn’t surprised she was doing well in school. Kinsey had always possessed a great mind, reading the science section of the New York Times religiously after those dinners, trying not to look like she was listening to our shoptalk. I thought for a moment. “How does it pay?”
Kinsey stared at me over her martini, folding and tugging at the crumpled napkin in her hands. “Not well. University student jobs tend to pay minimum wage, but I can make it work. I don’t have a car anymore, so no expenses there. I might have to give up my apartment, though, and move some place cheaper. That’s why I came to see my dad. I was hoping to convince him to continue paying for my apartment. I can cover everything else.” Mangling the poor napkin some more she asked, “What happened to your assistant?”
“Her mother broke her hip, and Mary needs some time to take care of her.” I reached across the table and lay a hand on hers, forcing them to remain still for a moment. “She’s been after me to find a replacement. I need someone to keep me organized. Do you want the job? It pays way better than anything on campus.”
She looked at me, paused, and drew a deep breath. “What would I need to do?”
“Answer phones and manage my calendar.” I tried to downplay the requirements of the executive assistant to the president of the company. I didn’t want to scare her off. She could handle the job; I knew it. “You would coordinate my meetings, make lunch and dinner reservations, pick up my dry cleaning. Stuff like that.”
Kinsey wrinkled her brow, thinking for a minute. “I’ve done all that helping Mom with her dinner parties. What about school? I have classes two days this week and finals next week. After that, school shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll be on break for the summer.”
I nodded. “You can finish your classes. That won’t get in the way.” I wasn’t going to keep her from graduating on time. “Work your hours around them until your break. My assistant will hopefully be back before fall classes start.”
Kinsey sipped her martini and eyed me, twirling the straw before setting her drink back down. “This might be a mistake. Dad always said you should never accept jobs from family or friends. The one thing he knows is business.” Then she looked away with a shrug. “But okay. I’ll take your job for the summer. I’d love to get out of the cafeteria.” Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at me. “But I go back to school in the fall even if your assistant isn’t back yet. My degree is important to me, and I only have one year left.”
My smile widened. “Then it’s settled. I will see you in my office at eight tomorrow morning.” I let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Secretly, I was relieved. I didn’t think she’d be able to survive on a work study paycheck and who knows what other job she might have had to take to make ends meet. “Dress is upscale office attire,” I told her. “We’ll go over work stuff tomorrow. For now, we eat.”
Kinsey
Is this a mistake? Will working for Mason anger my father? I started to sweat just thinking about what Dad would say. Why do I care? He dismissed me! I still hadn’t shaken off the rejection.
I was more than my father thought I was. I could do it—all of it. I could live on my own, graduate college, and be Mason’s secretary. I had to break the cycle of dependence. The same trap caught me over and over—I’d take my
father’s help, and he’d put me down, try to force me into a box that didn’t fit so he could make me into something I wasn’t. I was his daughter, not his puppet. I had to show him I could succeed without him pulling all my strings.
If I failed, if I couldn’t make it on my own and went crawling back to him, if I let him win, I would never get away. Instead, I would cement his hold over me. In the blink of an eye, I would become a society wife, a paper doll. I didn’t want to be that. I was more than well-trained arm candy. I was an individual.
Further, I wasn’t going to let that morning’s rejection at his office define my whole day. Determined to enjoy my surprise lunch with Mason, I forced all thoughts of my father out of my mind. My memories of Mason were vague, but he had seemed nice when he used to come to dinner all those years ago. His brother Mark would try to talk investments and market shares, and Mason was just that annoying college kid who ate the best cuts of meat and monopolized the conversations with questions about absolutely everything.
Dad just soaked up the attention. Mason was the son he’d never had. Why he paid more attention to an awkward teenage boy than to me, his own flesh and blood, I just couldn’t understand. Honestly, in the beginning I’d resented Mason for it. It took some time for me to realize that even if he hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have found the attention I craved from my father. Once I shifted that resentment from Mason to my father, the one who actually deserved it, I realized he was a pretty cool guy. By the time Dad shipped me off to boarding school, I’d developed a fan girl crush on the young man. Mason starred in a large number of my teenage fantasies.
Will Dad be angry at him? I didn’t want to make problems for him. Dad had a nasty temper, and when he was angry, he didn’t play fair. Mason was a brilliant man who had done well for himself. I didn’t want to see him go from being my father’s protégé to his enemy.
Studying him across the table, Mason could have modeled for Calvin Klein. He was that hot. I was sure I had seen him somewhere recently. His square jaw, shadowed by a layer of stubble, reminded me of the lead singer of a rock band. His looks had matured since he was a teenager. His features were sharper, and he had a few gray strands peeking out from a full head of thick brown hair. From what I had felt when he steadied me at the office, under his designer suit was a sculpted physique even better than the one I’d admired in his twenties.
Mason exuded a subtle power. As a teen he was a dashing, bright young man. As an accomplished businessman, a compelling presence radiated from him. He looked at me with an intensity and confidence that I found myself helplessly drawn to.
Sitting at the cafe table, peering at Mason over my martini glass, I closed my eyes. I could still feel those powerful muscles rippling under my finger. Stumbling and landing in the arms of the stranger who tried to run me over on his way out of the elevator had been a stroke of delicious luck.
As we dined, I kept thinking of how he’d held me that morning with his strong hands. His long fingers would have been perfect for playing a grand piano… or a woman. I admired how he moved as if he owned every room he entered, was aware of everyone and everything around us. I never imagined when I walked into Dad’s offices that morning that by the afternoon, I would be sitting with Mason Alexander and looking forward to a whole new chapter in my life.
Chapter 7
Kinsey
My head buzzed with too much caffeine as I surreptitiously wiped my sweaty on my skirt, hoping no one would notice. I knew I shouldn’t have had that extra cup of coffee! In my Manolo Blahnik heels and narrow pencil skirt, I felt like an imposter, a child playing dress up. Only, this wasn’t a game.
This job was too important to me; I couldn’t be my usual klutzy, screwed-up self. I took another graceful step and winced. Even a good night’s sleep didn’t relieve the back ache, chapped hands, and sore feet I got working in the college cafeteria.
Mason had been a godsend offering me this job. I loved working in the lab, but even combining that with the cafeteria job, I couldn’t keep up with my rent, much less afford to eat. Walking forward, I straightened my spine and hardened my resolve. I was going to make this work. I could scale the hardest route at the climbing gym and barely break a sweat, but the first day on the job? Even with my determined spirit, I was terrified.
Walking up to the security desk, I bravely smiled at the guard. “Hi. I’m Kinsey Hendrix. I’m here to see Mr. Alexander regarding the executive assistant position.”
“Good morning, Miss.” He leaned forward a bit scrutinizing me over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. Forcing myself to keep my chin held high, I was quietly terrified he would take one good look and label me a fraud, but he didn’t. “Just give me a moment to let Mr. Alexander know you’re here.”
I let out a breath while he dialed up to the executive offices on his fancy twenty-button phone. “Yes, I have a Miss Hendrix for Mr. Alexander... Yes, I will send her up.” He pressed another button and set the phone down. I hoped the phones in Mason’s office weren’t quite so complicated. My heartbeat sped up a notch at the thought.
Breathe in…. breathe out… You can do this. My internal pep talks were not working. I could feel the back of my blouse dampening with sweat. My hands were clammy, and my pulse raced.
“Miss Hendrix, take the third elevator on the left up to the 16th floor. Someone will meet you there.” With a brief smile, he unlocked the elevator and I was on my way. I stepped in and as the doors shut, I heard him say, “And welcome to Alexander Tech Enterprises.” Taking another deep breath, I lifted my head up high.
Here goes nothing.
On my ride up to the 16th floor, my mind wandered from fear to excitement again. I let myself relax for a moment and my inner teenager began to squeal. I still can’t believe I’m going to be seeing Mason every day! I felt 14 again, drooling over my teen crush as I pictured his handsome face, his lean six-foot-four-inch frame, and his dark hair that curled seductively at the collar.
DING!
The sound brought me back to reality as the elevator doors slid open. A beautiful, silver-haired woman stood waiting for me. I tamped down my enthusiasm and tried my best to appear professional.
“Miss. Hendrix?” Her smile wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I instantly started to relax under her gaze.
“Yes. I’m Kinsey Hendrix.” I held out my hand in greeting.
She grasped it in hers, “So lovely to meet you. I’m Mary Stewart, Mr. Alexander’s executive assistant.” Her voice was melodic; it reminded me of my grandmother’s. “I have a few things for you to sign, and then we’ll get right to it.”
“Thank you, Ms. Stewart.” I loved this woman already. She was motherly and professional all at the same time. I wanted to be just like her.
“Mary, please,” she told me. “We are going to be working closely today.” She started down the hall at a brisk pace, her heels tapping a jaunty rhythm as I struggled to keep up with her. “I have a lot to teach you and very little time. My mother gets out of the hospital tomorrow, and I need to be there to take her home.” I followed her down the brightly lit hallway, past several large glass-fronted offices, to the big office at the very end. Spanning the entire width of the building, it held a smaller desk in front of an entryway, and then a larger one in a big room behind.
Mary stopped at the first desk and gestured for me to have a seat. I did. She pulled up a second chair. “This is my desk. Now it’s yours, too.”
BZZZZ….. BZZZZZ…..
“Kinsey, Mr. Alexander is paging you.” Mary patiently pointed at yet another flashing light on the phone. I poked at it, but nothing happened. “No. Like this.” Effortlessly, she made the buzzing stop and asked him what he needed.
When she was done, she put the phone down and turned her attention back to me. “Ok. Next time press here,” she pointed to a button on the top of the phone, “and here,” another button, “and pick up the handset.” Thank god she was patient with me. “Now he wants coffee. You remember where everything
is?”
I nodded confidently. “Yes. I can do that. I can make coffee.” Who was I kidding? At that point, I was so overwhelmed I probably couldn’t even have spelled my own name. “He prefers it black, right?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Yes. You can do this, Kinsey.” Her hand covered mine, stilling the nervous tapping of my fingers on the paper desk pad.
Almost in a daze, I rose from the desk and made my way to Mason’s personal coffee maker. It was the fanciest espresso machine I’d ever seen. With a built-in grinder, double boilers, and more spouts than I knew what to do with, each cup was made to order.
My shoulders sank at the sight of it. Even a cup of coffee was beyond my skill set. Then Mary, like an angel, guided me step-by-step through the process.
A few minutes later, I tottered into Mason’s office, carefully balancing his coffee cup so I wouldn’t spill a drop. The last thing I needed was for my klutziness to rear its ugly head. A vision of splashing hot coffee all over my gorgeous new boss flashed before my eyes and gave me chills.
As I carefully slid the cup and saucer onto his gleaming glass and steel desk, my fingers accidentally brushed his. The sensation sent tingles up my arm that pushed away all my fear. I could just imagine those fingers dancing over my skin. I felt the warmth of his gaze as he turned his steel blue eyes in my direction. Heat rose from the swell of my breasts, up to the roots of my hair, and I couldn’t help but blush.
Mason held me trapped by his stare. I couldn’t move. I could feel the blood circulating through my body, my heartbeat accelerating. He smelled amazing, his scent subtle, masculine, and magnetic. I wanted desperately to get closer.
Ding!
“Thank you, Kinsey. That will be all.” Distracted by the beeping of his cell phone, he quickly shifted his gaze away. Maybe I was overreacting, imagining things. I sure thought that was desire I’d just seen in his eyes, but as quickly as it turned me on, he turned it off.
Mason: The Lost Billionaires, Book 1 Page 5