by Andrew Grey
“When does Mr. Stepford need someone to start?”
“He will arrive in Colorado Springs tomorrow and is going to be visiting with his parents. His calendar is free until the following Monday, but I’d like you to meet him and get started earlier… say, Thursday. I’ll get the paperwork started with HR, and they can have you fill out what they need. Then we can go from there.”
“Sounds awesome.” He grinned. It looked like Brandon had the job. It wasn’t anything like he’d dreamed of once he had his masters, but it would mean some money coming in and he’d meet some people and maybe make some connections.
“I have your email address, as well as your phone number.” Marjorie rattled it off. “Is that your cell?”
“Yes. You can reach me there anytime.” He kept his voice level as they said their goodbyes, but once they ended the call, he let out a soft whoop and then went in search of his grandma.
He found her by the stove, putting a big pot on the burner. “I got the job! That was Mr. Stepford’s assistant in New York, and she hired me to work with him here.” That was a load off his mind.
“That’s good.” She patted him lightly on the back.
“I can work for him and keep looking for the job I really want.” At least this would give him a chance to breathe, and he’d be working for Thomas Stepford, the hunk who still sometimes haunted his dreams. Of course, he’d have to be professional and couldn’t go around gawking at his boss.
“When do you start?” Grandma asked as she pulled out ingredients.
“Thursday. They’re going to send over all the papers I need to fill out.” He told her all about the rest of the interview.
“I’m glad it all worked out.” She continued stirring the pot on the stove. “I’m making sauce. They had good tomatoes at the market, and I want to get some made to put in the freezer. I can do this, so you might as well go out and have some fun. There’s no need for you to sit around here with an old lady.” She scooted him out of her kitchen with a smile.
Brandon went to his room. He could probably see if any of his friends were free, but instead he checked in online and ended up playing Warlords of Garu until it was time for dinner. After that, he helped Grandma with the dishes and cleaned up around the house until it was time to go to bed.
He lay quietly, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what Mr. Stepford looked like now. He closed his eyes, and the image he’d called up many times of Thomas in only his pants flashed in his mind’s eye. Brandon took a deep breath, wiping that image away. He would be working for Thomas, and that meant he needed to be professional at all times. Brandon was not going to be perving on his boss, because that was just too stereotypical for words. Not only that, but he had no idea if Mr. Stepford was gay and… heck, he was Mr. Stepford. He was, well, older than him.
Brandon released the breath he’d been holding. This was a job, and he would do it to the very best of his ability.
“BRANDON… IS it okay if I call you Brandon?” Marjorie asked when she called a few days later while he was outside working in Grandma’s yard.
“Of course,” he said brightly, wiping his forehead and no doubt smearing dirt all over his sweaty skin.
“Good. We got all your information. Once again, thank you for being prompt.” He heard a smile in her voice. “You have no idea how pleased I am to be working with you.”
“I’m glad to be working with you too. But I have one question. We never talked about my salary or what my work hours would be. There was nothing in the information sent about any of that. I was wondering….”
“Of course. Like I said, we got all your paperwork, but there’s one more step before I can hire you. Mr. Stepford is the one to make the final decision. I went ahead with the paperwork because I think he’s going to be very pleased with you. I called to set up a time so he can meet you.” Clicking sounded in the background. “I know this is unusual, but I needed to get things moving. Let me see. Mr. Stepford is at his parents’ for a few days until his rental is cleaned, and he has said he’ll be free this afternoon after two. I’ll email you the address. Can you be there at two thirty? Will that work?”
“Yes. I’ll be there then.” His phone vibrated, and a message popped up at the top of the screen. “I just got your email.”
“Wonderful. Once I have his approval, I’ll send you a company phone and iPad, along with access to his calendar and other files you’ll need.”
Brandon cleared his throat. “Will he want me to drive him places?”
“I doubt it. He has said he’ll drive himself. But you do have a car to run errands and things, right? Keep track of miles, and we will reimburse you for mileage.” She sounded a little scattered, and Brandon wondered at it, but he didn’t know her well enough to understand why. “Once you’ve met with him, I’ll go over all other details.”
“No problem.” Brandon smiled.
Marjorie said she’d speak to him after he met with Mr. Stepford, then ended the call.
Brandon hurried to the bathroom and started the shower. He jumped in to clean up and then dressed in nice clothes. He wasn’t sure how he should look when interviewing for an assistant’s job. He thought business casual was probably good. A suit was most likely overboard.
Still, he put on a nice pair of slacks, a light blue short-sleeve, button-down shirt, and nice shoes that weren’t sneakers, and made sure his hair looked good. And he’d shaved again, so there was no scruff. He left his room, following the scent of cookies to the kitchen. A plate covered in plastic wrap rested on the edge of the counter.
“What are those for?”
“Take them with you. Grace has a real sweet tooth, and she’s had a hard time of it lately.” Grandma handed him the plate, and Brandon took it, wondering how it was going to look for him to be taking some of her cookies to a job interview. Still, he kissed her on the cheek, left the house, and drove to the address Marjorie had emailed to him.
Brandon parked on the street in front of the house and walked up to the door, carrying the cookies his grandma had sent. He knocked softly, then stepped back and waited. Dogs barked inside the house, and he instantly tensed. Brandon was allergic to all animals, especially dogs and cats, and he could already feel his nose begin to tingle in anticipation. If he’d known, he’d have taken some of his allergy medication.
The door opened and the yapping grew louder as two Lhasa apsos jumped at the bottom of the screen door. Brandon lifted his gaze to where Thomas Stepford stood in the doorway. “I’m Brandon Wilson. Marjorie asked me to come by and talk with you about being your assistant here in town.”
“Yes,” Thomas said gruffly and, after telling the dogs to get back, pushed the door open. “She told me she had arranged for someone to come over.”
Brandon stepped inside and his eyes watered. He blinked to try to keep his reaction at bay, but it didn’t do very much. The house had been closed up because of the air-conditioning, and the dog dander had had a chance to really build up. All Brandon could hope for was that he wasn’t inside too long and could get out before his reaction became too severe and he was reduced to a sneezing mess.
Mr. Stepford closed the door. “What’s this?” he asked, looking at the plate Brandon was carrying.
“My grandmother sent these over for your mom.” He was about to hand the plate to Mr. Stepford when he sneezed loudly.
The dogs yipped and the plate went flying out of his hands. Brandon groaned as the plastic wrap gave way and cookies flew in every direction. The plate shattered on the floor, and bits of cookie ended up everywhere.
What a way to make a first impression.
Brandon wanted to crawl under the sofa and hide, but that would only send his allergies into overdrive.
“Buddy, Clementine, go in the other room.” They ignored him, and Mr. Stepford scooped both dogs into his arms and went out back to let them outside.
Brandon sneezed again and wondered how he could clean up the mess he’d made.
“Look,
I’m sorry.” He could feel the job he’d thought he had slipping out of his grasp. “Let me help clean this up.” He sneezed again, the sound echoing through the house.
“It’s all right. Give me a minute.” Mr. Stepford got a trash can and threw everything, including the pieces of the plate, in it. Then he got out the vacuum, which only seemed to add more dust to the air. Brandon left the room and sat at the kitchen table until Mr. Stepford was done. “Okay. I’m going to guess that you’re allergic.”
Brandon nodded. He turned to where two small doggie faces peered in the sliding glass doors. “Sorry. I didn’t know or I’d have taken some medication.” The stuff made him sleepy as hell and dried him out to the point that he felt like a desert, but it got him through when he needed it.
“How about we go outside?” Mr. Stepford said.
Brandon couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.
Mr. Stepford let the dogs back in, and they left the house. Brandon took as deep a breath as he could, sneezing a few more times as his eyes began to clear. He knew it would take a while for the rest of his symptoms to dissipate.
“Marjorie said you would be over.”
“She told me that you wanted to meet me and that you’d go over the kinds of things you thought I’d be doing for you.” Thankfully they stopped on the sidewalk out in front of the house. This was a strange place to conduct an interview, but Brandon was grateful he could breathe once again. “I graduated with an MBA a few months ago. I’m a hard worker, and I know I can do whatever you need me to do.”
Brandon took a good look at Mr. Stepford and had to admit he was even more attractive now. The years had been generous to him. There was the slightest hint of gray at the temples of his otherwise jet-black hair, and his eyes were as piercing as they had been. He was broader and seemed stronger, more solid, and definitely as hot as the Mr. Stepford he remembered.
“An MBA, that’s very good,” Mr. Stepford said. “But if you have that kind of degree, why do you want to be my assistant?” His deep brown eyes stared intensely at Brandon, who forced his mind to stay on track.
“Well… shoot…,” he demurred, then figured honesty was best. “I need a job. I got my degree and I did very well in school. Marjorie has all the details and that. Right now, I’m living with my grandmother, and I can’t keep sponging off her. She and your mom are friends, and I got the word that you needed some help, so I applied.”
“I see,” Mr. Stepford said skeptically.
Brandon knew he only had once chance to try to salvage this entire situation. “I had one job all through high school, and then when I left, I spent all four years of undergrad waiting tables. I work hard and I don’t change jobs on a whim. Learning the business world from the ground up is important, regardless of the title. If you want someone who will do their best to be a good assistant, then that’s me.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, meeting Mr. Stepford’s gaze with his own until he was wracked by a sneeze and wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere. “Thank you for meeting with me.” Not extending his hand because he had just sneezed all over it, he went back to his car, knowing he’d blown that interview so sky-high, it was pathetic.
Chapter 3
“HE WHAT?” Marjorie asked when Thomas described what had happened.
“Yeah. Sneezed all over everything through the entire interview.” Thomas chuckled.
Marjorie clicked her tongue. “And you didn’t do anything to help him.” Man, she sounded pissed. “The poor man had an allergic reaction to your mom’s dogs and you think that’s funny.” No, she was way beyond angry and well into livid. “I’d probably be as miserable as he was, but I’d have said something.”
He knew she would have too.
“You need an assistant there. I can manage your schedule and calendar for you, but I can’t get your cleaning and run the errands that always seem to come up at the last damn minute.” Marjorie really had a head of steam, and Thomas wondered who was the boss. “That young man has an impressive résumé, and I liked him when we talked on the phone. He’s funny, and he doesn’t have an agenda like the others I talked to did.”
“Others?” Thomas asked as he absently searched through some papers.
“Yes. I talked to eight candidates. One was clearly more interested in you being single than she was in the job. Two of them chewed gum, cracking it like teenagers through the entire phone interview. I wanted to box their ears. I swear one of them didn’t have the brains God gave a rock, and the others were completely unsuitable and set off more alarm bells than a prison breakout. Brandon was nice, respectful, and he’s interested… until you sabotaged him with your mother’s walking balls of barking death.”
“Okay. I think that’s enough.” He didn’t snap, but he was firm. Something seemed to have gotten into Marjorie.
“You need someone to help you out there. Just because you’re out of New York doesn’t mean you’re going to sit around with your feet up. I know you. You’re going to work and get caught up in some deal. Then you’ll forget to have your laundry done, and, hell, you’ll realize one night that you’re starving and there’s nothing in the house to eat, and I won’t be there.”
“I’m not that bad,” he protested. “I’m an adult and can take care of myself.”
“Really? You do realize that groceries come from a store? They don’t magically appear in your refrigerator. The same with plumbers and repairmen. Someone has to call them and be there when they arrive. You never saw any of that. Just like your clothes. They aren’t washed by elves and magically reappear back where they belong. I took care of that for years. Well, me and Darlene. She did most of the running when I had to be at the office. But it got done because your assistants made sure you could be as productive as possible.”
“Darlene? Who’s Darlene?” Thomas didn’t recall ever hearing that name before.
Marjorie sighed. “Your housekeeper. She did your household running and cleaned up while you were gone. I engaged her years ago. She’s a wonderful lady, and you never met her because you didn’t need to. We took care of what needed to be done. And so you know, Darlene is retiring and going to live with her daughter upstate. You gave her a nice bonus and sent a card.”
“To someone I never met…. How did I miss that?” he asked quietly. Thomas knew Marjorie handled a lot of things for him so he could concentrate on what was important. He didn’t realize just how far into his work he’d fallen.
“Because I took care of it. And you asked to meet your assistant in Colorado Springs, and I let you. But that young man is the only one who seemed a likely prospect for the job. Are you really going to discount him because he’s allergic to dogs?”
Thomas groaned. “I suppose not.”
“Then good,” Marjorie chirped. “How much are you going to offer him? You need to give some thought to the kind of things you’re going to want him to do for you. If you give your okay, I’ll handle everything on this end and have him report for duty on Thursday. That’s when you should be able to get into your rented house. He can help with the movers.”
He heard her clicking away, knowing she was doing her usual multitasking thing. “All right. I’ll trust you on this one.” She was the one person who never let him down.
“Good. I’ll call him tomorrow, settle the details with him, and tell him when and where to show up. I’m texting you his phone number for now. I’ll be sending him some company equipment so he can get started.”
“Fine,” Thomas agreed.
“Okay. Why all this resistance? He couldn’t have been that bad. On the phone he had energy and seemed eager.”
Thomas could almost see Marjorie’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rise. “He was.”
“Then what’s the problem?” she pressed.
Leave it to Marjorie to call him on his bullshit. Almost everyone else was too enthralled and nodded their damned heads at him.
“He’s….” Thomas gulped. “You never saw him, did you?”
“What,
is he ugly or something?” she teased, then chuckled. “I looked him up on the internet and thought he was rather cute-looking. And from his Facebook account, I’d say he was gay, though it doesn’t state that explicitly.” Marjorie paused, and he heard her gasp. “I take it he’s really cute and he floats your boat.” Then she started laughing.
“It’s not funny. He’s so much younger than I am, and I’m not going to get involved with my assistant. God, that’s so tacky. Not to mention stupid. I mean, really.”
Marjorie continued chuckling. “Just think. The great Thomas Stepford being attracted to his assistant. I have to ask, do you think you can behave professionally with this boy? Because if not, I will have to try to find someone else.” She grew quiet for ten seconds, then laughed again.
“I don’t see what’s so funny.” He waited while her laughter died away.
“You. I have known you for twelve years and worked for you for most of them. Other than once—and we both know what kind of mistake Angus was—you have never shown any interest in anyone. There have been men in this office who have flirted with you nonstop… gorgeous men, and you never noticed any of them. So yeah… I think you’ll treat Brandon professionally and with respect.”
“You really are a pain in the ass sometimes,” Thomas groused and sighed.
“Is that Marjorie?” his mother said as she came into the room, followed by both of the dogs. Buddy jumped up into Thomas’s lap and made himself comfortable.
“Yes. Do you want to talk to her? She’s only giving me grief right now about my new assistant.” He held out the phone, and his mother shook her head.
“Just tell her I said hello.” She sat down. “Oh, is it Thelma’s grandson?” she asked as she lifted her knitting bag and slowly got to work. With her rheumatism, she couldn’t work as fast as she used to, but it was good therapy for her and helped keep her joints limber.