TWO WEEKS' NOTICE

by Whitney G.

  “Stay,” he said, briefly pinning me to my spot with his gaze. He motioned for me to follow him and Violet to her new bedroom.

  I took a seat in the corner, where the designer had stacked an impressive display of teddy bears and matching bean bags. I watched Preston struggle to help Violet into her preferred pajamas and held back a laugh.

  “Bear wants some apple juice before bed,” she said.

  “Why would your teddy bear need some apple juice?” he asked.

  “Because he’s thirsty.”

  He gave her a blank stare and looked over at me for help.

  “I’ll get it.” I walked to the kitchen, stepping over the remaining toys and books that were strewn across the floor. When I returned with the juice box, Violet held the straw up to her teddy bear’s lips for five seconds before drinking all of it herself.

  “How very clever.” Preston smiled and tucked her under the covers. Then he held her hand in his. “Violet, your parents are...They were in a car accident.”

  “A car accident,” she repeated.

  “Yes, an unfortunate car accident,” he said, pausing. “And they died.”

  She blinked. “Like my grandma and grandpa?”

  He stilled, and I could tell he was shocked that she’d said those words. “Sort of like that. Yes.”

  “Are they coming back?”

  “No, Violet,” he said. “They’re not.”

  She looked confused. “Are they in the clouds with grandma and grandpa?”

  He hesitated to answer. “Yes.”

  “Oh...” She was silent for several seconds, looking between Preston and her bear. “Can you read me and Bear the rainbow story again?”

  “Of course.” He turned on the pink and yellow night-lights, and then he picked up the book on the nightstand. He read it to her twice, and halfway through her third requested encore, she drifted to sleep.

  Standing up, he kissed her forehead and hit the lights. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the living room.

  “I didn’t understand that my dad was gone until I was six,” I said. “You did a good job for the first explanation.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I take it she’ll need to stay in my office until I find a new nanny?”

  “I’ll schedule some more interviews, but in the meantime, I think you should ask Cynthia. She could watch her in your private bedroom suite across the hall that you hardly ever use. You can still check on her every hour that way, and if she ever needs you, you won’t have to rush all the way home.”

  “By ‘Cynthia,’ are you referring to the same Cynthia who wants to sleep with me?” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  “She’s the only person on the executive staff who has a degree in Child Development. She also loves kids.”

  He looked unconvinced.

  “Would it help if I told you that she has a boyfriend now?”

  “Very much so.”

  “Well, she does.” I laughed and stepped back “Anyway, about what happened tonight...”

  “What about it?” He stepped forward, and I stepped back again. He moved forward and gripped my waist before I could step away once more.

  “Yes, it was inappropriate,” he said. “And yes, it’s going to happen again.” He whispered against my lips. “There’s only one reason why it’s not happening right now.”

  “Uncle Preston?” Violet’s soft voice made us look down, made him let me go.

  “Yes, Violet?”

  “Bear is scared.” She grabbed his hand. “He wants to sleep in your bed.”

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded, holding Bear close to her chest with her other hand.

  “Okay.” He picked her up and held her against his side. “Can we walk Tara to the elevator first?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled and leaned against his chest.

  He walked me to the private elevator and kissed my forehead before hitting the down button.

  “I’m thinking about sleeping in Monday,” I said, stepping onto the car. “I wonder if my boss will understand.”

  “He won’t.”

  “I’ll see him at noon.”

  “He’ll see you at seven.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  Preston

  ON MONDAY MORNING, Cynthia walked into my private bedroom suite with a box of coloring books.

  “I can’t thank you enough for giving me a chance to do something new here, Mr. Parker,” she said. “I still can’t believe Miss Lauren recommended me to you. I thought she hated me.”

  “Why would she hate you?”

  “She never told you what I—” She cleared her throat, not finishing that sentence. “I have no idea.” She set down the box, and I adjusted Violet’s blanket as she slept.

  “I’ll be in my office if you need me,” I said. “I’m still going to check on her every hour or so until I trust you, or until we find a permanent nanny. Clear?”

  “Clear.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep up the ruse that she’s your niece and not your secret love child. Her eyes give the whole thing away.”

  I shook my head, not bothering to respond to that. I watched Violet sleep for a few minutes before walking to my office.

  When I arrived, I saw that my Colombian coffee was waiting for me, my short list and schedule were in perfect order, and I knew right then and there that my next assistant would never be as good as Tara.

  Nowhere near as memorable either.

  An intern walked into my office with a plate of breakfast, her arms trembling with every step she took.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you this morning?” She set down the tray.

  “Why are you shaking?”

  “It’s my first day, sir,” she said. “I’ve heard that you’re Satan reincarnated and that working for you is like hell on earth, so I want to ensure that I’m making a good impression.”

  I blinked.

  “I’ve also heard that you fire people on the spot, and I really need to keep this job.”

  “You can leave my office now.”

  “Okay, wait.” Her face turned red. “The truth is, I dropped your pepper bagel, but it was only on the floor for five seconds. I picked it right back up and wiped it off with my shirt.”

  “What?”

  She stepped back, damn near hyperventilating, and left.

  Before I could even begin to process what the hell she’d done to my bagel, Tara walked into my office, wobbling slightly in her heels. My cock immediately hardened.

  “Good morning, Mr. Parker.”

  “Tara.”

  She blushed. “Mr. Parker, I have two nanny interviews scheduled for this afternoon and an interview with my potential replacement this morning.” She walked over to my desk and picked up the pepper bagel, tossing it into the trash and replacing it with a plain one. “You need to take a call with the branding department at two, a Skype meeting with George from his China tour at four...”

  I stared at her lips as she spoke, only halfway paying attention to what she was saying.

  “You also need to make sure that you’ve signed off on my recommendation letter to the companies I’ll be applying to in the coming days.”

  “I didn’t write your recommendation letter yet.”

  “And since I don’t trust you to do it any time soon, I wrote it myself.” She smiled. “I emailed it to you, and all you have to do is sign it.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You promised.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Yes, you did, and I expect your signature in my inbox within the next hour.”

  “I’ll send it in two.”

  “Do you need anything else from me?”

  “Your mouth would be nice.”

  “I’m not having sex with you at work.”

  “The walls are soundproof.” I tapped my fingers against the desk. “You know that because you had them re-enforced.”


  “I did that so I wouldn’t have to hear you calling me from your office anymore.”

  “Is that a ‘no’ to your mouth?”

  “It’s an, I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  Tara

  I SIPPED MY COFFEE and winced as I leaned back in my chair. Every muscle in my body was sore from the weekend, and I was struggling to focus on my work. I was also struggling to process the glimpses of Preston’s softer side, everything from the way he redressed me after sex at the gala, to the way he talked to Violet was making me wonder if we could pursue something together once I left his company.

  It’s just the sex talking, Tara. He’s still an ass. Don’t fall for it.

  As I was flipping through a stack of resumes for his next assistant, he sent me his signature on the recommendation letter. Smiling, I started to tell him, ‘Thank you,’ but he sent me another email right after.

  SUBJECT: YOUR REPLACEMENT

  How far are you into this search? (Is this current interview some type of joke?)

  Preston Parker,

  CEO & Owner of Parker International

  SUBJECT: RE: YOUR REPLACEMENT

  I have ten more applicants to screen and sixty new resumes to read today. (Not at all. She’s a Harvard grad with B-level experience. Why?)

  Tara Lauren,

  Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,

  CEO & Owner of Parker International

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: YOUR Replacement

  If the resumes you’re reviewing aren’t half as impressive as yours, don’t bother screening them. (She just asked me why I don’t want to be more like the “much better” Hilton Hotels. Please get her the hell out of my office. Now.)

  Preston Parker,

  CEO & Owner of Parker International

  I LAUGHED AND PUT ON my heels before walking to his office.

  “I think you could truly benefit from doing a few things the Hilton way.” The woman was still talking. “I mean they have an app where guests can make reservations from their phones, and their logo makes you feel right at home. If I was your EA—and I should be, I’d make those two things my top goals.”

  Preston glared at her and tapped his fingers against the desk, the vein in his neck swelling with every word she said.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, making her turn around. “Mr. Parker, there’s something urgent you need to attend to, so you’ll have to cut this interview with Miss Proby short.”

  “I totally understand.” She stood up and extended her hand to Preston.

  He stared at it.

  I cleared my throat and motioned for him to shake her hand.

  “We’ll be in touch,” he said, his voice terse.

  “I hope so!” She grabbed her purse and walked past me, shutting the door on her way out.

  “Do we not have an app for guests to make hotel reservations at my properties?” He looked at me.

  “We do. And before you ask, yes, your logo is better than Hilton’s.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” He smiled. “I wasn’t going to ask.”

  “Of course, you weren’t...”

  “Is there any way I could pay you more to stay here and work for me? I can promise not to stress you out as much.”

  “Never.”

  “Even with more stock options?” He stood up and walked over to me. “More benefits?”

  “I already have the most benefits and some very generous stock options.”

  “One more year wouldn’t kill you.”

  “I really think it would.”

  He let out a low laugh and closed the gap between us, leaning in to kiss me.

  “We can’t.” I pushed him away and stepped back, pulling out my phone. “You have a two-hour meeting with—” I glanced at his schedule. “TLM in a few minutes. Did you add this? I didn’t approve any meetings with Thompson Lane Marketing today. Why are they scheduled to meet with you multiple times this week?”

  “Because TLM isn’t Thompson Lane Marketing,” he said, walking past me and locking the door. “I just figured Tara Lauren’s Mouth would’ve been too inappropriate for my executive assistant to approve.”

  I laughed, and his lips met mine in a kiss.

  “I need you to handle all of my upcoming international meetings on your own.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “I’ve started getting Violet’s personal things shipped to my place, but I’ve yet to find her passport. I don’t feel comfortable leaving her here alone while I travel.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t know anything about kids?”

  “I know they don’t like to be left alone.” He trailed his finger against my lips. “Do I need to send any interns on the trip with you?”

  I shook my head. “Just my driver.”

  “Does your boss treat you somewhat better now?”

  “No.” I smiled. “He’s just very good at sex.”

  He laughed and pushed me against the wall. “Cancel the rest of my day...”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Preston

  A FEW NIGHTS LATER, I woke up in pain—feeling massive heart palpitations in my chest. No matter how many doses of anxiety medication I took, they came harder each night, and they always brought along memories of my brother. They were always the same. Images of Weston and I fighting in our childhood backyard. Us fighting on the school bus. Us fighting about anything and everything.

  Sighing, I rolled over and found myself face to face with a set of purple button eyes.

  What the...

  I sat up and saw Violet sleeping on the other side of my bed. This was the fifth night in a row that she’d snuck into my bed in the middle of the night, and I was still getting used to it. Kissing her forehead, I pulled a blanket over her and made my way into the kitchen.

  Opening the refrigerator, I shook my head at all the juice boxes, fruit, and mini snack meals that were there for Violet. Thanks to Tara, she now had her own nutritionist who premade weekly meals and ensured that my refrigerator and freezer were always “eighty percent toddler and twenty percent adult.”

  I grabbed an apple juice box and a bag of animal crackers, carrying them over to my couch. I opened my laptop and looked for some work I could focus on for the next few hours, but for the first time in forever, the last thing I wanted to do was work.

  Shutting it down, I pulled out my phone. I scrolled down to Tara’s name and stared at it. Then I hit call.

  It rang once. It rang twice. And before I could hang up and tell her that the call was a mistake, she answered in her familiar, breathy voice.

  “Hello?” she said. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Tara.”

  “Are you calling me about the Grand Rose’s grand staircase remodel? I can get you those numbers in two minutes.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Oh, then this is this about my travel itinerary? I’m waiting on the Von Strums to approve two of the final meeting spaces, but I have everything set to go for the Scotland and Amsterdam sessions.”

  “I’m not calling you about that either.”

  “Oh...Then what’s this about?”

  I sighed. “I can’t sleep.”

  “I didn’t know you were capable of sleeping.”

  “Contrary to the rumors at the office, I sleep at least five hours a night.”

  “I’ve heard you’re supposed to get eight.”

  “I’ve heard that as well,” I said. “But never from anyone successful.”

  She laughed. “That’s exactly why everyone thinks you’re an awful boss.”

  “Do you still think that?”

  “Absolutely. You’re the worst boss I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m the only boss you’ve ever had.”

  “Still doesn’t change what I said.” Her laughter came over the line again, and I realized that over the past two years, we’d never talked on the phone without work being the main topic of conversation.r />
  “Were you thinking about your brother?” she asked.

  I didn’t answer.

  “I’m sorry for asking.”

  “Don’t be,” I said. “I was thinking about him.” I paused. “I was thinking that it’s my fault we weren’t close, but I’m honestly not sure how I could’ve fixed it. I also wish I could’ve met Violet under different circumstances.”

  She remained silent, listening.

  “I’m just not good at emotional shit, and all he wanted to talk about was his feelings when our parents died. As if talking about the way he felt would bring them back.”

  “How did they die?” she asked softly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “They were murdered. Shot dead in their home over an empty safe.” I clenched my jaw at the memory of receiving the phone call, of the officer saying, “these things happen all the time” right after. As if he’d just given me speeding ticket. “Weston and I were never the same after that. We always handled things differently, and grief was no different.”

  “Did your brother happen to own The W Hotels, the budget hotel chain that you stalk all the time?”

  “He did.” I smiled. “He went into budget hotels, and I went into luxury. He saw something in the long term that I didn’t, and I’ve been trying to make up for that ever since.”

  “No wonder you’re trying to break into that industry with the Von Strums, then,” she said. “I’m pretty sure your brother was obsessed with your chain, too.”

  “Who wouldn’t be? I’m always number one.”

  We laughed, and I turned the volume up so I could hear her a bit better.

  “Were you up doing work?” I asked.

  “Yes, sure.”

  “The words ‘yes, sure’ always mean you’re lying to me, Tara.”

  “Okay, well just yes. Yes.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Tell me more about what it feels like to be number one year after year.” She changed the subject. “I don’t think I’ve heard you brag about yourself as much lately.”