Claiming Her_A Romance Collection

by R. R. Banks

  "Not really around here," I say. "I still like to keep myself pretty anonymous at the properties themselves, but everybody who works here at the headquarters knows who I am and who my father is. As a matter of fact, the only reason I opened my headquarters here is because of my father. When I was here a couple years ago and ran into you, I was here for him, negotiating an expansion project for his company. It didn't work out, but the connections I made during the meetings made it obvious that the next step in growing my own business was to create a central headquarters of operations. I always liked Richmond, and what I saw here during my visit convinced me it would be the ideal location for said headquarters."

  She looks back at me with soft eyes and I realize the double meaning of what I said. The truth is Olivia did factor into my decision to establish my headquarters here. Yet, ever since I opened the office, I have been doing everything I can to keep our lives from overlapping. I've stayed away from the locations of her father's business, I haven't gone near her house, I resisted the urge to try to reach out to her. It wasn't until recently I found out those efforts were in vain anyway because Olivia had essentially disappeared. I don't know what happened, and I'm eager to ask her, but the uncomfortable tension between us is obvious. I feel as drawn to her as I did on the island and I want to lock the door to my office, push that little pencil skirt up to her hips, and continue what we started more than two years ago. Memories of the last time we saw each other, however, stop me.

  "So, I guess we should talk about the position," I say.

  Even saying that sentence in Olivia's presence is enough to clench my stomach and make my pants a little tighter.

  "Sure," she says. "I have to admit, I don't have a tremendous amount of experience."

  "That's alright," I say. "I'm sure I can help you figure it out."

  Our eyes meet again, and I notice that Olivia seems to be more nervous than before. I try to focus on the papers in front of me. They hold the job description given to the temp agency to fill my need for a personal assistant.

  "I didn't know the position was at your office," she says, as if trying to explain herself. "I just gave my qualifications and this is where they assigned me."

  "I didn't think you did," I say. "But even if you did, I wouldn't mind. When I asked Dennis to find me a personal assistant, I didn't realize he was going to go with a temp agency. I'm really looking for someone in a more permanent capacity. As a matter of fact, I'll take care of that right now."

  She looks nervous, but her expression melts into a relieved smile as she listens to me call the temp agency and request how to immediately hire her full time.

  "You didn't have to do that," she says as I hang up moments later, even though the look on her face tells me that meant the world to her.

  "I know I didn't, but I think it'll work out for both of us, don't you? I need an assistant to help me with an upcoming obligation, and you were given the position." She nods and gives a little shrug. "Good. Alright, so, where were we? Right. Why don't you tell me a little bit about why you got this position?"

  I meant it playfully, but I immediately notice Olivia looks uncomfortable. I think about what I've heard about her family recently and feel guilty for the question. I try to avoid talking about her, but I've overheard comments about their finances hitting a rough patch and things getting rocky for all of them. It seems obvious to me now as she sits in front of me that the retirement, used as an excuse for her father to no longer be as involved, was just a cover. The feeling in the room is suddenly tense and awkward. Olivia swallows hard.

  "You might have heard that my father's business isn't doing as well as it once was," she says.

  "I honestly don't know anything about that," I lie.

  "I know," she says. "Much like you, he's very good at covering up things about the business. Unfortunately, the way he covered it up put me in the position of now needing to have a job so that I can help support the family and hopefully have a chance at saving the company. That's why I'm here."

  Her honesty is blunt, but refreshing. I know this has to be difficult for her, but Olivia is willing to put herself into an admittedly strange position out of loyalty to her family.

  "I'm sorry to hear you've been going through anything like that," I say.

  She shakes her head, not wanting my sympathy.

  "I'll figure out a way," she says.

  "You already have," I say. "I'm glad you're here. Not just because I know you are attentive and conscientious, and are devoted to punctuality to the point that you apologized to the first hole on the miniature golf course for us being three minutes past the time on our game card. It's just really good to see you again."

  The mention of our miniature golf date softens her eyes and Olivia opens her mouth to say something, but my office door flying open stops her. I look up and feel my stomach flip.

  Oh, shit. Here we go.

  Charlene's eyes fall on Olivia and a cold smile twists her lips.

  "Olivia," she says. "What a surprise. I never would have expected to see you here. As a matter of fact, I don't really expect to see you anywhere anymore. How long has it been, a year and a half? Two years?"

  "Hello, Charlene," Olivia says.

  The two women are smiling at each other, but I've lived in the South my whole life and I know a calm, cool, smiling Southern woman is often the deadliest kind.

  "Charlene," I say, trying to break the tension, "I don't remember having an appointment with you today."

  She gives a silly, high-pitched laugh and tosses her hair back.

  "Oh, Vincent. You're so funny."

  Am I?

  "Is there something I can do for you?" I ask.

  "You left so abruptly last night, I was worried about you. I wanted to come by and surprise you. Make sure you're doing alright. Maybe join you for lunch?"

  I see Olivia look down at her lap and shift uncomfortably in her chair. Charlene stands right behind the chair, leaning over just enough so she looms over Olivia.

  "I'm fine, Charlene. I told you last night I had important work I needed to do today and wouldn't be able to stay for the entire party."

  Also, who the fuck has an engagement party on a Sunday night?

  "Oh, that's true. You did mention that. I'm sorry, I was just so excited to be able to spend some time with you. Can you get away for lunch?"

  "It's 9:15 in the morning."

  Olivia stands up and maneuvers out of Charlene's way.

  "Excuse me just a moment" she says.

  I watch her walk out of the room and turn back to Charlene.

  "I told you before you need to call before you come to the office. You can't just storm here like that..."

  She looks at me like I've offended her delicacy.

  "I didn't storm in here," she says. "I just came to surprise you. How was I supposed to know you had someone in here with you? Especially... her."

  "Not that it's any of your business, but Olivia was selected by a headhunter to be my personal assistant."

  I'm going to count that as only half a lie.

  "How nice," Charlene says.

  "I think she'll be a fantastic fit for the position," I say. "Now, if you'll excuse me, when she gets back we have a lot of work to do to get her prepared to go to the convention with me."

  "Will I be seeing you anytime soon?" she asks in a simpering tone.

  "I don't know," I say. "My schedule is really busy for the next few weeks."

  She sighs.

  "Well, you just let me know."

  "I will," I say. "Have a good day."

  "You, too."

  She comes up to the desk and leans across it so her push-up bra enhanced cleavage presses against my face and gives me an oddly angled kiss on the top of my head. As she walks away, I'm honestly not sure which one of those moves was her original intention.

  Olivia

  I am willing my hand to stop shaking as I touch up my lipstick in the bathroom mirror. I didn't really need to come in here,
but I couldn't stand being in that room with the two of them any longer. I can't believe they're together. Actually, I can completely believe they're seeing each other. Charlene always gets what she wants, and it's obvious Vincent does too. Apparently, it might take a couple years, but in the end, they're perfect for each other in that way. Just seeing them near each other, however, makes my skin crawl and my stomach turn. I hate that it has this effect on me, and I chastise myself for letting emotions that should have long resolved themselves control me like this.

  The thought of Aaron pops into my mind and my head drops. I never thought I was going to see Vincent again. When I made the decision with my family not to contact him and tell him about my pregnancy, and never reveal the identity of the father of my child, I thought it was what was right. I never thought I was going to see him again. I didn't even know his last name. Then I find myself suddenly sitting in his office as he tells me about my new position as his personal assistant. How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to work for him and not tell him about Aaron? It would be hard enough just to be so close to him and have to fight the emotions that reared back up as soon as I looked into his eyes. How do I do that while also knowing I'm keeping his son from him?

  The bathroom door opens and Charlene sashays in. There's a smile on her face that makes me feel queasy. She steps up beside me and looks in the mirror, leaning forward to check the line of her lipstick and straighten the delicate strand of pearls wrapped around her neck.

  "It really is nice to see you, Olivia," she says. "I can't believe it's been so long."

  "I know," I say. "It’s been quite a while."

  "Why did you disappear all of a sudden? All of us want to know."

  My life has just come full circle. Earlier this morning I had been amused by the idea that I was in such a similar environment, just gossiping with different people about different things. Now I'm back with the same people and being expected to gossip about myself.

  "I didn't realize I was such a hot topic of conversation," I say. "I'm afraid the story isn't nearly as sensational as people might imagine it to be. My grandmother decided she wanted to move back to her country house and doesn't feel comfortable living there on her own. She asked if I wanted to go with her and be her caregiver and companion, so I went."

  "That's it?" Charlene asks.

  I shrug, giving what I hope is a convincingly non-committal smile.

  "Sorry," I say. "I told you the story isn't very interesting."

  "It seems you have a little more time on your hands than that. Vincent tells me you're his new personal assistant."

  She's still smiling, but I feel the knife starting to twist in my heart.

  "That's true," I say. "I've been looking for a change of pace and thought having a job might be fun."

  She's looking at me in a way I know means she's thinking about all the rumors about my father's business and my family's finances. But even she has enough tact not to say anything directly about that.

  "I just can't believe what's happened between Vincent and me," she says. Her voice suddenly has a wistful, breathy quality. "Can you believe it? It's really such an adorable story. A few weeks after we all got back from Catalina Island, Mr. Preston called my father. He told him that he and his son would be in Richmond for several days and if we'd like to have dinner one night. Well, the night we planned to go to dinner, his son, who I didn't realize who he was at the time, suddenly canceled. So, of course, I was disappointed."

  "Of course," I reply flatly.

  "Several weeks later, though, Mr. Preston called again and invited us to a small holiday gathering at his home in Charlottesville. I can't imagine why your family wasn't invited."

  The knife twists a little more.

  "I suppose it was just too small a holiday gathering," I say.

  She gives a chipper nod.

  "So, obviously we accept the invitation and go to the party."

  "Obviously," I say.

  "He was so excited to tell us his son had unexpectedly been able to come in for the gathering and was there for us to meet. Imagine my surprise when we walked into the drawing room and it was Vincent standing there."

  She giggles and holds her eyes wide as if this is the most astonishing turn of events that has ever occurred in the course of human history.

  "Imagine that."

  "So, of course, we tell our parents that we are actually already acquainted, we just didn't realize it. We got to talking that evening and both of us said how sweet and funny we thought it was that we spent that whole three weeks together without me even realizing he was Vincent Preston, the billionaire resort owner. He asked me on our very first date that night, and we've been inseparable ever since." She gives a sigh worthy of a corset and a fainting couch. "I imagine we'll be getting engaged anytime now. I wonder how Vincent would feel about having a destination wedding at the Catalina Island Resort. I really feel like it would bring our story full circle, you know? Go back to the place where it all began? We could get married on the beach where we first saw each other. Imagine what a beautiful story it would be to tell our grandchildren about how I went to that resort to heal my broken heart after my engagement ended, only to find the love of my life."

  "It's really that serious, huh?"

  Charlene turns to look at me and nods, her eyes wide and misty.

  "It's extremely serious," she says. "We are so in love, Olivia. He's the most incredible man I've ever met. I have to admit I was a little worried when he mentioned he was going to be hiring a personal assistant to help him here at the office. I don't much like the idea of another woman getting close to my man every day. You can understand that. But I'm just so relieved now to know he hired you! Now I don't have to worry about if his eyes are going to wander. I'm sure you'll watch out for him for me, won't you? What are best friends for, after all?"

  I resist the urge to cringe as I feel like she's digging the knife deeper and deeper.

  "Absolutely," I say.

  I refuse to give her the satisfaction of thinking she got to me.

  Charlene steps up to me and takes my shoulders, gazing into my face for a few seconds before pulling me in for a tight hug.

  "It really is so wonderful to see you again," she says. "I just can't wait to start wedding planning again. I hope you kept your maid of honor notebook on hand."

  She pushes me back from the hug as if to look at me, then pulled me in again to kiss me on each cheek. She's really going over the top. Without another word, she sweeps out of the bathroom and disappears down the hall. I let out the breath I feel like I've been holding since she walked in. I know her enthusiasm was exaggerated just to hurt me. She enjoyed rubbing her relationship with Vincent in my face. The conversation with Charlene had one benefit, though. I'm even more convinced now that the two of them suit each other. Keeping that in mind will help me work alongside him without risk of getting distracted and falling in love again.

  Besides, I remind myself as I walk out of the bathroom and back toward the office, this job is only temporary. Even though Vincent hired me full-time, I don't consider this something I'll be doing for the rest of my life. I'm only working this job until my family is back on its feet. Once the worst of the situation is over, I'll find something else.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Charlene

  I'm laughing as I walk out of the elevator and into the lobby. The obnoxious little man at the reception desk glares at me. He hates that I walk right past him and go up to Vincent's office rather than waiting for him to escort me. But even his bitchy attitude isn't going to bother me right now. This is so perfect. I couldn't have planned it any better if I tried. I only wish I had been able to figure out a subtle way to get my phone out of my purse, so I could snap a picture of the elusive Miss Olivia begging for a job. Not just begging for a job. Begging Vincent for a job.

  It was so satisfying seeing her sitting there in last season's power suit. She certainly has been brought down a few pegs. I went into the
office frustrated with Vincent for leaving Sandra's engagement party last night before the party was even over, as soon as I went inside and saw Olivia, though, it was worth it. The look on her face when she saw me come into the office and mention my date with Vincent was fucking unforgettable. I wish I could turn it into my screensaver, so I can always look at it.

  Olivia looked so out of place sitting there. I know she's smart, but she, like the vast majority of the women in our circle, went to college hoping to earn her MRS. rather than any other assortment of letters. She's never had a job and has no practical skills beyond hosting, party planning, and being disturbingly helpful all the time. Now that I think about it, I guess she does have all the skills required to be the perfect personal assistant. I can't imagine what Vincent would want her for.

  As soon as that thought goes through my mind, my laughter fades. I have a feeling I know exactly what Vincent could desire from her. It's the same thing he wanted from her at the resort two years ago, and just like he did then, he'll make sure he gets it from her. Being in the office with her every day just meant easy access to a soft leather couch and an executive boardroom with a conference table plenty big enough to fuck on. I couldn't let that happen.

  I hope my little conversation with Olivia in the bathroom got through to her. Not only do I want her to know Vincent is my turf now, but I want to make sure it's done in a way she can't fight. Olivia might be many things, but a homewrecker isn't one of them. She believes far too much in sappy romance and fairytale endings for that. If she thinks we are happy together and are planning our future, she'll stay away. As an added bonus, she'll have the fun of being tormented by the thought of me deliriously happy in his arms and his bed every day.

  My smile returns to my face as I climb into my car. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that right now she's sitting in the office with Vincent telling him she can't possibly be his personal assistant. Maybe he'll still need someone to go to the conference with him and he'll invite me, instead. I can already imagine the lingerie I'll bring with me and my mouth waters as I think about him peeling it off me.