I definitely respected the brilliance of the man.
I admired a lot about him—but not the way he treated people.
Me, specifically.
As he wove through side streets I wasn’t familiar with, making it hard for me to tell how close we were to my neighborhood, I started formulating a speech of a few sentences in my head. I wanted to tell him how I felt without seeming defensive or whiny. After all, I needed my shitty customer service job until I could find something else. If I seemed to be a troublemaker, it might be easy enough to just get rid of me, pandemic or not.
Braking the car at a stop sign, he looked both ways before accelerating the car once more. “Bailey, I need to apologize to you. I made an incorrect assumption—and I could blame my reaction on a lot of things, from the fact that I’m used to my usual admin to the strangeness of doing all my work at home. But I’m not going to make excuses. I accused you erroneously, and I apologize.”
Words escaped me for a moment as the speech in my head disappeared like wisps of steam into a breeze. I’d never expected from Maddox Steel any sort of apology, much less one so sincere, succinct, and thoughtful.
But I took another breath and looked over at him. He seemed handsomer, more powerful, more intelligent than I’d initially given him credit for.
“Thank you, Mr. Steel. I appreciate your apology.” I looked back at the road, feeling suddenly shy. “And I forgive you.”
I slid my eyes sideways without moving my head. His eyes seemed to squint but he gave a small nod, turning the wheel at the next intersection.
“Now, as to your concerns about a promotion, I think perhaps you and I need to sit down with Jeffrey and Dominique to discuss your concerns once things are back to normal at the office.”
God. I’d already been there.
But not with the owner of the company.
“Okay.”
“And you promised to stop calling me Mister.”
“I will. When you’re nicer.”
The way his eyebrow cocked before his eyes met mine made my words totally worth it.
But would they be worth it tomorrow?
Chapter Seven
Elise screaming in my ear made me pull my phone back from my head. “Are you kidding me?” Her words had the structure of a question, but they were yelled like an interjection. “Why you?”
I’d known my friend would be a little jealous, but I hoped she wasn’t over the top. “Dominique actually recommended me.”
“No.”
“Yeah. I was shocked, too.”
“So what’s he like?”
Ah, this was the Elise I’d expected. My co-conspirator bestie.
I told her about his mansion-esque home, Simon, the cars—but ended on the tongue-lashing. “So he confirmed what I knew all along. He’s an asshole.”
But a small part of me no longer believed it.
Elise never had, so she didn’t even address the remark directly. “Do you have to go back there tomorrow?”
“I have no idea. After today, I doubt it. I bet as soon as he dropped me off, he called Jeffrey and asked for someone else. Maybe tomorrow it’ll be your turn.”
“Wait, what? He dropped you off?”
“Yes.”
“Geez. You got lucky, girlfriend.”
I wasn’t so sure.
But at eight-thirty that night, as I was finishing up the dishes in my sink that I’d neglected for days, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, so I almost let it go to voicemail—but something told me to pick it up. “Hello?”
“Am I speaking with Bailey Bernard?”
Oh, God. I’d recognize that voice anywhere—that particular timbre, that deep quality. The way it grabbed me around my neck and threatened to never let go.
“Yes. Is this—Maddox?”
“It is. I didn’t mention today that I’m going to continue to need your services over the next week or so, just until my assistant is cleared for work. So I’ll send Simon over again.”
I honestly didn’t know what to say, but I was thrilled. I had to work at keeping my voice calm. “What time?”
“Seven-thirty. I want us ready to go by eight AM sharp.”
“All right.”
And this time I would bring my own food, because I didn’t want to get ensnared by his cute tricks. This was business only—and I had to protect both my head and heart from this man.
* * *
Boy, I talked a good game with myself but, when push came to shove, I was probably a typical woman, trying to get the attention of the hot, powerful guy. Maddox had said the day before that casual dress was okay while working at home—but I had to impress the boss.
And, perhaps, I wanted to look a little sexy, too.
So I’d picked out three different outfits the night before and settled on a black dress that I would never wear to the office without a jacket. The skirt pushed the dress code, because it landed mid-thigh instead of following the three-inch-above-the-knee rule. But Dominique never challenged me when I wore it, nor did any of my coworkers, likely because I hardly ever saw clients. I was good on the phone, hidden in a cubicle, so they kept me there.
The dress was snug, fitting my curves, and had long, lacy sleeves. I picked a pair of black pumps to go with and a red jacket. As I started walking down the stairs to the front of the building, I second guessed myself, considering going back into my apartment to change—but it was just a few minutes before Simon was supposed to pick me up, and I didn’t dare be late. That would be something I suspected Maddox would get very angry over, and it wasn’t something easy to fix. He’d been wrong about what I’d done the day before, and I wanted to stay on the side of right.
Maybe he wouldn’t even notice what I wore, and that would be the end of that.
Simon did, though. He didn’t say a word, but I saw his eyes on my knees as I stepped into the car. His look of disapproval was nearly palpable. As he wound his way out of my neighborhood, I tried to quell my reddening cheeks, but I suspected I knew what was going through the driver’s head.
He’d seen this a million times before…women trying to get Maddox Steel’s attention with their bodies. Based on his disdain, I figured it must have worked on occasion. And I’d have to pair my looks with my brain if I wanted Maddox Steel.
Did I, though? Did I want him?
Some part of me, way deep down inside, did. Whether that was due to Elise’s worship of the man or my own intrigue with his mysterious nature, I didn’t know. I only knew I wanted to pursue something.
And, of course, I forgot about the possibility that clothing wouldn’t work in my case. Promptly at eight AM, Maddox called me into his office. He had a notepad and pen on the side of his desk where I’d be sitting, and he gave me a list of daily duties, including sorting through emails and prioritizing them for him. I realized then what a detailed man he was and knew I’d need to be just as meticulous as he.
After going through the whole list, he said, “You’ve also no doubt seen my videos. The ones I do for clients.” I nodded my head, looking up from the notepad. “I’m going to do more, and I’ll need your help with them. You’ve probably already gathered how anxious our clients are about the current volatility of the market. Some of them should be nervous, but most of them just need to sit back and relax, because this is the way it works. The market will go up again. It always does.”
“So what do you need my help with?”
“I’ll probably have you film me and maybe do the editing. Usually, I have the ad staff doing it, but I’ve got them working on other things—and I don’t need to exponentially expose myself to lots more people. The ad department is short staffed at the moment anyway. Before we film, though, I’m going to write a script—and I want you to tell me what needs to be simplified.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll need you to point out what needs to be…dumbed down, for lack of a better phrase.”
Vehemence made me inhale deeply, and I fough
t the urge to lash out. Instead, I wanted to point out his arrogance. “And what makes you think I’m the right person for that job?” Showing him he was condescending might bring him around again like proving him wrong yesterday afternoon. Putting an inflection in my voice that sounded as close to Forrest Gump as I could manage, I said, “Is this dumb enough for you?”
But I was dead wrong. His intent was not what I’d thought—and I’d just made a fool out of myself.
“That’s the job you’ve been so good at all these years, Bailey. Taking difficult concepts and making them easy to understand for our customers.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Now it was my turn to stop being an asshole. “Sorry. I misunderstood.” But that was the only apology he’d get from me because, after all, he was still the guy at the helm of the ship. I wasn’t going to tuck my tail.
And it hadn’t slipped past me that he’d acknowledged my worth in the company.
“Is that it?”
“For now.”
I stood up, walking toward the doorway. Just as I got there, he said, “And Bailey?”
“Yes?” I turned again, pen poised in hand.
He didn’t look up from his work, though, his eyes glued to his monitor. “The dress code exists for the simple reason that clothing—or the lack of appropriate wear—can be distracting. Not so much to the person wearing it.”
I could’ve argued, giving him a BS line that this was my idea of casual, but I’d already discovered I couldn’t get away with being disingenuous with this man.
I could, however, be a little smart assy, something I’d already gotten away with. I just didn’t know that my subtle digs would always be noticed. “Yes, sir.”
“Close the door behind you.”
As for that one, I guessed I’d never know.
* * *
The rest of the week, Maddox worked my tail off—and I relaxed into more casual wear as the days went by, including jeans and sweaters. And even though I was bringing my own food to his house, we occasionally ate lunch together. One day was nice enough that we tried eating on the deck.
On Thursday, he called me into his office. “Bailey, when’s the last time you looked at the chat board on the intranet?”
Oh…my disengagement as an employee was about to stick out like a circus clown at a funeral. “Honestly?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want the truth.”
“I stopped reading it, like, three years ago.”
Cocking his head in the most adorable way, he narrowed his eyes while focusing on me. “Why is that?”
Aside from not feeling valued by the company, there was another reason. “It just seems like a place for people to congregate and whine about stuff. It doesn’t give me the sense of community it’s meant for. Maybe if someone moderated it…”
“There’s a thought. I might need someone sharp to do that for me.” Was he talking about me? “That is, if we decide to keep it. Why don’t you bring your chair over here?”
I did as he asked, getting closer to him than was good for me. His smell was intoxicating, his presence magnetic, and it was getting harder and harder for me to think of him the way I used to.
When he tilted the screen so I could see it better, he said, “The employees of Essential Solutions are worried about losing their jobs or losing pay due to the pandemic.”
“That’s understandable. We had a meeting in customer service at the beginning of the month, and Dominique said if we were sick, we weren’t allowed to come in. We’d have to use sick or vacation leave and, if we didn’t have enough, we’d have to take leave without pay. So I’m sure everyone’s panicking. It might be easier to work while sick from home, but what if someone has to go to the hospital?” I wasn’t even going to mention people’s kids staying home now—no daycare, virtual schools. It was a nightmare.
“I know I have you working on another project, but I’d like you to draft a memo—an email. Your written tone often sounds kinder than mine, and I need this to sound compassionate and caring. Assure all employees that not only will they have their jobs, but they will continue receiving their pay and benefits throughout this situation. Essential Solutions takes care of its employees. I’ll be in a virtual meeting with my HR staff later today, but we need to talk people off the ledge for now.”
“Okay. Do you want me to email the draft to you?”
“Sure. Thanks, Bailey.”
While I moved the chair back into place, I tried hard to suppress a grin—but he saw the inklings of it.
“What are you thinking?”
I released my lower lip from the grips of my teeth and my smile grew wide. “Can I be honest with you?”
“I think I just told you a moment ago that I’d prefer it.”
“I don’t know if you remember this…but when I was new at Essential, I’d gotten on the elevator one day and you jumped on just as the doors were closing. You nodded at me, but you got right on your phone. I said hello but you didn’t say a word to me. And so…I thought…”
His eyes grew darker and, for some reason, I got the feeling that he was going to chastise me for being an oversensitive child. “You thought what?”
Swallowing, I forced my tongue to move. “I thought you were being rude. Like…too good to mingle with your staff.”
He started laughing then, hearty and robust, but I refused to be hypersensitive about it. His blue eyes softened then. “Bailey, I apologize for giving you the impression that I was intentionally being rude or didn’t care—and I want you to know I value everyone in my company. I literally could not do this work alone. As for that particular day, I have no idea what I was doing or why I didn’t properly acknowledge you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
I gave a slight nod of my head. “Just know that people who work for you care what you think and watch everything you do. And some of us take things personally.”
“Fair enough.”
“A simple hi and maybe even Excuse me, but I have to take this would have made all the difference.”
“Duly noted. I will be more mindful of my employees from this point forward.”
I started walking through the doorway, but his voice stopped me once more.
“For the record, Bailey, I value your work and appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
Hmm. I thanked him before walking through the door, marveling at how quickly Maddox Steel continued losing notches on the asshole scale. And I got the feeling that the email I was helping him with today would make my fellow employees feel the same way.
How could I not view this man in a whole new light?
* * *
On Friday, we planned to begin filming his videos, a series of five. He’d intentionally designed each of them to be less than five minutes, so even short-attention span folks could glean something. His earlier videos a couple of weeks earlier had been too technical and involved, so he wanted to try again. After all, he now had me simplifying the language in his scripts.
“I don’t know, Maddox. Can I be frank with you?”
He cocked his eyebrow in that tempting way of his. “I expect nothing less, but especially when it comes to my business.”
“Well…you intimidate a lot of people. Employees, anyway. I don’t know how your clients feel.” His scowl deepened, but he let me continue voicing my opinion. “You know more about this topic than most people, and so sometimes people are losing the message. And, in this instance, people are more freaked out than usual.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“I don’t think sitting at your desk or even in your home office is helping. You’re in an environment that just reinforces all those strange emotions.” His eyes narrowed, but I could tell he was ingesting my words, mulling them over. “So why couldn’t we film somewhere else—like on the deck?”
“Maybe if it wasn’t snowing. Maybe we could do it next week.”
“We could wait.”
“I appreciate the thought
, Bailey, but time is of the essence. If I could go back in time and have these done on Tuesday, I would.”
“Okay, so what about a different room in the house? Like, maybe, the sitting room? Or even the study—or the kitchen?”
“I hear you. Hmm.”
“I have an idea. It’s probably cold all over Colorado right now. Why not in front of the fireplace—and have a fire going? Make it feel warm and cozy.”
His lips turned up at one corner in half a grin. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“And, if you wanted, we could film one a day in different places. People aren’t necessary going to want to watch them all at once anyway.”
“Good idea, Bailey.” He stood, inhaling deeply through his nostrils. “Why don’t we go try to film the first one in the sitting room like you suggested?”
Maddox carried the camera and tripod while I brought all the cue cards I’d painstakingly written out the day before. We’d done a rehearsal of sorts on Thursday and, while Maddox knew exactly what he wanted to say, he insisted he’d “go off track” or elaborate too much if he didn’t nail himself down with a script, especially since I’d tried to help him remove a lot of the jargon he used, replacing those words and phrases with simpler language. So I’d taken our eloquent, calming words and written them all painstakingly on multiple pieces of poster board. We’d practiced once today so I could try my hand at the task, and we worked pretty well as a team.
Oh, and I’d (mostly) forgiven him for chewing my ass on Monday. Things had changed significantly between us since.
When we were setting up in the sitting room, Simon entered. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“Just make sure you steer clear for now, Simon. We’re going to be filming in here.”
“Very good, sir. When would you like lunch?”
Maddox looked at me. “One o’clock okay with you?”
Quarantined with the Billionaire Page 6