Made to Love

by Medina, Heidi

  “I can be there at eight, no problem,” I choked out.

  “Great. Now, you won’t officially start until Wednesday; HR’s got to finalize the paperwork still. But like I said, they’ll show you around a bit tomorrow and get you settled in. Welcome aboard.”

  “Thank you so much,” I gushed as I hung up.

  “I told you!” Brooke was clearly beside herself.

  I was a little dazed. Things were moving very fast; was it really just last week that I had picked myself up and relocated? And now here I was with this lucrative job offer; not just any job, but one that I wanted . . . really, truly wanted. It was a bit much to take in. “This is weird, right? I mean, I thought he had other applicants. And he said it would be a few weeks. Isn’t that weird?”

  “Honey, let’s not overthink things, k? Obviously you wowed the pants of him, as I knew you would. Besides, I told you; men cannot resist that southern belle charm.” Brooke linked her arm in mine and pulled me toward my room. “Now, what are you going to wear for your first big day?”

  “Well, technically that is not until Wednesday—you’re right. I need to find something to wear.” I flung myself down on the bed and watched as Brooke began rifling through my closet.

  “I’ll have to take you to my favorite resale shop; it’s where I get all my stuff at. Love it! We could get you entirely new Wall-Street-worthy wardrobe dirt cheap. Hey, what about this? I love the vintage look.”

  I looked over and found Brooke holding up a black and yellow dress. My breath caught as I rushed over and took the hanger. “No, not that. I can’t; it’s not mine.” I shoved the dress into the back of the closet, ignoring the confused looked on Brooke’s face.

  “Not yours? Then why—“

  “Look, it’s no big deal. I just can’t wear it. Here, what about this?” I held up a pale pink silk blouse, signaling my refusal to discuss it further. The last thing I needed now was a heart to heart about my crack addict mom.

  Brooke stared at me a moment longer, then seemed to acknowledge my desire to change the subject. She held up the blouse, with a smile. “Got any grey pants?”

  Chapter Three

  Nathan

  I rubbed a hand over my eyes, then glanced back down at the reports I was reviewing. I had been at the office since five am, and now, at seven-thirty, I was getting antsy. I gave up and tossed the reports aside and leaned back in my chair.

  I knew I had made a bold move yesterday. Isaac had not been pleased with my instruction initially, but it had not taken much to persuade him to my way of thinking. Miss Andrews was fully, if not over-qualified for the job. So really, at the end of the day, his hiring her would be in the best interest of this organization, and isn’t that what it was really all about? He had wanted to continue the pretense of at least completing the remaining interviews, but what would be the point? It would be insensitive to provide continued false hope to these other candidates, and I considered it our duty to let them know now so they could take this time to seek employment elsewhere. Like I said, it hadn’t taken much.

  Ah, Miss Reagan Andrews. I had been taken with her as soon as the elevator doors had opened, and there she stood. I hated to sound this ridiculous, even to myself, but it was as if she had taken my breath away. Literally. She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t even that that had first captured my attention. She looked. . . .Haunted, alone. Her fragility, her beauty. ..It called to me. It was apparent the moment she spoke that she was not from this area; she obviously didn’t know me from Adam and therefore hadn’t been trying to secure a marriage proposal mere minutes after meeting me. She was different; unique. And I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t attracted to her. That went without saying. And a vast knowledge of women allowed me to know she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t felt the same attraction.

  Look, it wasn’t like I was conceited. Nor would I consider myself a man-whore either, although a few of my exes would adamantly disagree. But female companionship came easily to me; it always had. My face alone ensured I never had to spend a Saturday night alone if I didn’t want to, and my last name and father’s money didn’t hurt either.

  This was one of the reasons Miss Andrews appealed to me. She appeared completely oblivious to who I was, my last name and my money. It was refreshing.

  Not the face, though. No, definitely not oblivious to the face. I was sure of that.

  I had instructed George to let me know the minute she arrived this morning. A bit of a stalker move, but there were perks to being the boss’s son. My phone lit up.

  “Mr. Preston, I just showed Miss Andrews into the HR office” George advised.

  “Thanks, George,” I replied, and then hung up. I sighed, and resumed my relaxed position in my chair as I contemplated my next move.

  Reagan

  “Be sure to stop by security tomorrow morning. George will have your badge waiting for you. That will get you anywhere in the building, with the exception of the thirteenth floor. We are on a bi-weekly payday system; checks are issued every other Friday. You will be eligible for insurance benefits in ninety days, and will be issued a company laptop and Blackberry hopefully by the end of the week. I think that covers everything.” Heather, the perky HR representative, smiled up at me. “Any questions?”

  I was a bit overwhelmed. I had arrived promptly at 7:45 this morning, and had been filling out tax forms, confidentiality statements and security access agreements since. I had even been subjected to a short employee orientation film that detailed Elite’s history. I decided five minutes in that it wasn’t designed so much as to provide pertinent information for new hires than it was to highlight the vast and colorful career of owner and CEO, Roger Preston, and took the time to text Helen and give her an update. Heather had then taken me to get my picture taken for my badge, which I hoped turned out better than my last driver’s license one. Especially since I apparently had to wear it clipped to my shirt at all times. “No I’m good thank you,” I finally said.

  “Great. Let’s get you upstairs, then. Bailey Cooper will show you around; he’s Mr. Reynolds assistant. Congratulations, Miss Andrews, this is a great company to work for.” Heather led the way to the elevators and I pressed the button for the eighth floor. This is it. No turning back. I squelched my nerves and pasted a smile on my face as I stepped from the elevator.

  Bailey Cooper was a young, energetic fireball. Literally. With shaggy, copper red hair and freckles, and wire rimmed glasses that I was sure were for vanity reasons only, he radiated confidence with a smile that seemed to light his entire face. He immediately put me at ease.

  “Miss Andrews, welcome to my humble abode,” he quipped as he shook my hand.

  “Thank you. Please, call me Reagan,” I replied.

  “Of course! And by all means, call me Bailey, or B, as many of the miscreants up here are inclined to do. My father was Mr. Cooper, and honey? I am nothing like my father.” Bailey grinned. “So I know you don’t start officially until tomorrow, which means I can’t technically give you any work. But I did get you set up with an office.” Bailey started walking and I followed.

  My office was located on an outer wall, not too far from his, Bailey explained, and I was glad to see had a large window overlooking the street below. It wasn’t large, and the cherry wood desk took up much of the floor space, but it was mine. My first real office. I smiled as I mentally pictured making it my own; a few pictures of Helen on the desk, maybe a plant or two. Until I remembered no plant had ever survived under my care. Okay, so maybe just some pictures.

  Bailey’s voice broke into my thoughts. “IT should have your email account set up by tomorrow morning, although our team communicates a lot via instant messaging and text. Come on, I’ll take you to Grand Central.”

  Grand Central turned out to be the area in the center of the department that housed a large conference table. The area was open on three sides, and framed by three large TV screens mounted on the only wall space available. “This is where the team me
ets at least once a week; sometimes more if Isaac’s feeling overeager.” He checked his watch. “Matter of fact, we have a meeting in a few, which gives me the opportunity to introduce you to the rest of the team. There are seventeen of us at this location.”

  “This location? There is more than one?” I questioned. I was surprised this hadn’t been mentioned in my discussions with HR, or in the “Roger-Preston-is-King” video I had been shown. Then again, I had kinda zoned out on that one so perhaps it had.

  “Oh yes. We have an office in Boston, two in Cali, and a location in Europe just opened last year,” Bailey advised.

  I stood with my mouth open. “I didn’t realize that. Wow!” I was impressed.

  “Yes, Elite is everything but small,” Bailey winked at me with a laugh.

  We were interrupted during his high praise of the coffee cart that came around every two hours, and carried the most delectable strawberry scones, by the arrival of the first few members of the team. Bailey indicated I should sit to his left and I fidgeted nervously in my seat as I watched the team slowly assemble for their morning meeting. Curious glances were cast my way, but no one asked who I was, and Bailey didn’t offer the information. I got the impression by the slight smile on his face that he enjoyed their curiosity.

  “Good morning, people,” Bailey began, calling the meeting to order. He was immediately all business. “As you know, Isaac is away for at least the next three weeks. And as you also know, he did leave detailed instructions for each of you in your email.” This was met with good natured groaning and laughter from several of the team. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. He’s gone, but I’m not. So any questions about your instructions see me and I’ll get them answered. Mark, I have your flight plans for Alaska and your itinerary. The IT department there will meet you on site so you can get started.” Bailey directed his attention to a dark-haired guy sitting across from us, furiously typing notes on his iPad. Apparently this was Mark. “Those of you in the meeting on Friday, be prepared. Mr. Preston will be there and if we make Isaac look bad, heads will roll.” He laughed, but I didn’t think he was joking. “Danielle, make sure the power point is accurate and up to date.”

  “Okay, guys. Any questions? No? Well, since I can tell by your greedy faces that you’re dying to know who this beauty is sitting to my left, without further ado I present to you the newest member of our team: Miss Reagan Andrews.” My cheeks flamed.

  Beauty? As if I didn’t feel awkward enough. Bailey grinned widely at me. I glanced around the table as Bailey instructed them to do roundtable introductions. There was no way I was remembering the seventeen names and job functions that were rattled off to me, but I smiled at each person as they gave their information. Maybe Bailey would give me a cheat sheet.

  “Reagan will be starting out on some new projects that are coming up, under the direction of Isaac. I’ll be calling upon a few of you to show her the ropes over the next few days. Don’t embarrass me,” he joked.

  The meeting adjourned, teams members began making their way back to their offices, while a few remained to welcome me to the team. Bailey turned to a blonde, sporting oversized framed glasses and bright red lipstick. “Reagan, this is Angela. We’re done here until tomorrow, but feel free to sit with her for an hour or so today. She can show you what she’s working on. See you tomorrow.” With that, he shook my hand, grabbed a coffee from the passing cart and headed in the opposite direction, already on his phone.

  “Does he ever stop?” I asked as I watched him disappear into his office.

  Angela smiled at me. “No. Never stops, never sleeps. I’ve been known to get texts from B at three am. True story,” she laughed. “Do you have some time to meet today, or do you need to go?”

  I checked my phone. It was just after noon, and Brooke had made me promise to wait and eat lunch with her at one. “Sure. That would be fine.”

  By the time one o’clock rolled around, I was mentally exhausted. There was so much to learn! I hadn’t realized that Elite Design was involved in so many different things. I thanked Angela for her time and headed downstairs to meet Brooke. She didn’t appear to be in the lobby when I exited the elevator so I walked to one of the sitting areas to wait for her.

  “Hello again,” a male voice said from behind me.

  I turned to see the man I had met on the elevator yesterday standing behind me in all his delicious glory. As impossible as it sounded, he was even more gorgeous than I remembered. He looked relaxed in black dress pants and a white button up.

  “Hi,” I croaked out. He had to work here, right? My heart leaped in glee at the thought.

  “I take it the interview went well, then?” He asked.

  I nodded. “It did. I officially start tomorrow.” I said.

  He smiled, tilting his head to the side, as he continued to stare at me. “Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll fit in great here.”

  “You say that like you know. Do you work here, too?” Please say yes.

  “I do,” he answered with a short nod of his head. “I’m Nathan.” He held his hand out to shake mine. His grip was strong, his skin soft and warm. And of course, goose bumps erupted across my arm, and butterflies took flight in my stomach. I would not mind these hands touching me on a regular basis. Good God, Reagan. Get a freaking grip!

  I cleared my throat. “Reagan. My name is Reagan Andrews.” I reached up with my free hand to smooth my hair. Nathan still held my other one, his thumb tracing small circles on my wrist. My knees felt shaky.

  Seriously. I could not understand the attraction I felt for this man. It wasn’t like me to become so flustered over the opposite sex. Sexual attraction was not foreign to me, and I’d had my share of misguided bar hookups and late night booty calls. There had even been those rare occasions where I’d made the effort to actually date someone. But I wasn’t the cuddly type. Huge public displays of affection were not my thing, and God forbid, I didn’t like to be held. This was something I made clear up front with anyone I became involved with. I slept with you, and you didn’t call me for three days? Not a problem. Just because I was attracted to someone, didn’t mean I wanted them monopolizing all my time. You would think I was every man’s dream, but surprisingly there were guys who were put off by this. This may explain why I hadn’t really dated anyone in well over six months.

  But this? This intense attraction was unchartered territory. Apparently, my dry spell had gone on longer than I cared to admit, and my body was letting me know enough was enough.

  As if realizing what he was doing, he quickly dropped my hand. I smiled awkwardly at him. “Well, I am meeting a friend for lunch. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Likewise. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” He nodded with a smile, turned in the opposite direction and rounded the corner out of sight. I pressed a hand against my flaming cheeks and took a deep breath as I heard Brooke call my name.

  Chapter Four

  Nathan

  I returned to my office, unsatisfied with my run in with Reagan, and sporting an arousal that bordered on painful. It had been pure happenstance that I had been returning from a lunch meeting and had seen her walking across the lobby. She was just as beautiful as I had remembered her to be.

  I realized it was crazy, perhaps even rubbing shoulders with insane, to become so enamored of a girl I had just met yesterday and had spoken to only twice. While I had no problem getting a woman—or women, occasionally—to share my bed, I never showed more than mild interest unless a woman took it upon herself to play hard to get. This wasn’t often. But even then, the challenge soon wore off and so did my interest.

  But this girl. . . .She captivated me. She was different, and proposed a new challenge, something I was in sore need of as of late.

  I shifted in my chair, thinking about her “friend” she was meeting for lunch. God, I hoped it wasn’t a boyfriend. I had not spotted a ring when I had checked yesterday, so I doubted she was married. Given the fact she was beautiful, the chances she had a boyfriend we
re high. I mentally waved my hand in dismissal. Details. They’d never stopped me before.

  I swiveled my chair around to stare out the window. I had a to-do list a mile long, but knew I would get nothing done with this still raging hard on. And I knew that wouldn’t go away unless I could stop thinking about her. Which didn’t appear to be happening anytime soon.

  My door swung open. Only one person in this entire corporation ever entered my office without being announced. I felt my body soften. Nothing ruined a good mood like a visit from dear old Dad.

  “Nathanial, we have a problem,” my father announced without preamble. “The Blackstone job isn’t finished yet. We have an end of the week deadline and I’m told Frank is three weeks out from being completed.”

  I slowly turned back around and faced my father. One look at his navy blue three piece Armani suit, his silver hair perfectly styled and in place, his Rolex peeking from under his diamond cuffed shirt, and you knew Roger Preston was a man of money. He stood before my desk, his dark eyes snapping. I leaned back in my chair, amused that my father, a man who prided himself on being strong and sophisticated was visibly upset over something I had handled that very morning. Apparently he hadn’t gotten the memo.

  “Good afternoon, Dad. Glorious weather we’re having, isn’t it?” I answered in response, fueling my father’s anger, as I knew it would.

  “Cut the crap, Nathaniel. You hired that amateur; I expect you to fix this and get me results that aren’t going to land us in the poor house!” Roger barked as his face got red.

  “Being the number one architect in the nation hardly counts as amateur,” I mused. I was goading him, but couldn’t help myself. “Frank is right on schedule, actually. I spoke to Jerry Blackstone this morning, and he made a few last minute changes. The soft opening will be pushed back. He knew this was a possibility going in, and that there would be price to pay. He’s paid it.” I stood and moved to the mini bar at the far side of my office and took out two glasses. “The situation was handled hours ago, and your financial future remains secure. Relax.” I poured two fingers of brandy and handed a glass to my father, who took it with a sigh.