None of them would be the sort of woman Graham Gavin would believe I’d spend the rest of my life with. Sometimes I could barely spend an entire evening.
Miss Elliott knocked timidly, waiting until I shouted for her to come in. She entered, carefully carrying my coffee, setting it on my desk. “Mr. Anderson has called a staff meeting in the boardroom in ten minutes.”
“Where’s my bagel?”
“I thought you’d rather have it after the meeting since you’d be rushed. You hate eating too fast. It gives you heartburn.”
I glowered at her, hating the fact she was right.
“Stop thinking, Miss Elliott. I already told you, you get it wrong more often than you get it right.”
She glanced at her watch—a simple black one with a plain face, no doubt bought at Walmart or some other common store. “There’re seven minutes until the meeting. Do you want me to go get your bagel? By the time it’s toasted, you’ll have two minutes to wolf it down.”
I stood, grabbing my mug. “No. Thanks to you, I’ll be hungry in the meeting. If I make a mistake, it’s on you.”
I stormed out of my office.
David tapped the glass-topped table. “Your attention. I have some good news and some bad. I’ll start with the good. I’m pleased to announce the appointment of Tyler Hunter to the role of partner.”
I schooled my face, keeping it blank. I could feel the sidelong glances, and I refused to let anyone know how pissed off I was with the situation. Instead, to mess with them, I rapped the glass with my knuckles. “Good on you, Tyler. Best of luck.”
The room was silent. Internally, I smirked. I could act like a decent person. It didn’t change the fact I loathed the deceitful bastard or resented David for doing this to me.
David cleared his throat. “So, the bad news. As of today, Alan Summers is no longer with the company.”
My eyebrows shot up. Alan was one of the heavy-hitters at Anderson Inc. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Why?”
David shot me a look. “I beg your pardon?”
“Why is he gone? Did he leave on his own?”
“No. He . . .” David curled his lips in a twisted grimace. “It was brought to my attention he was seeing one of the assistants.” He glowered. “You know there is a strict policy about dating within the company. Let this be a lesson to all of you.”
Anderson Inc. was firm on their rules. You followed them, or you were gone. They’d figuratively rip off your balls, leaving you floundering. Fraternizing within the company was a stringent no-no. David believed romance in the office clouded your mind. Anything that took your focus off work or his bottom line, he frowned upon. I assumed he was against his employees having any sort of life outside Anderson Inc. Glancing around the table, I realized every executive was either single or divorced. I had never noticed, or cared about the marital status of my co-workers.
“On a side note, Emily has left us, as well.”
It didn’t take a genius to know which assistant Alan had been seeing. Emily was his PA. What an idiot. You never got involved with someone at work, especially your PA. Luckily, I wasn’t even remotely tempted.
David droned on a bit, and I tuned him out, going back to my own problem. When others started to stand, I jumped to my feet, leaving the boardroom, not wanting the see all the handshakes and slaps on the back Tyler would receive.
Fucker.
I strode into my office; stopping at the sight of Brian perched on the edge of Miss Elliott’s desk, his wide shoulders shaking with laughter. They both looked up when I came in, two very different expressions on their faces: Brian looked amused and Miss Elliott looked guilty.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded. I turned to Miss Elliott. “Why didn’t you let me know someone was waiting?”
Brian held up his hand. “I got here a few minutes ago, Richard. Katy offered me coffee, and to let you know I was here, but I was enjoying her company far more than I ever do yours, so I wasn’t in a hurry.” He winked at me. “She is more entertaining, not to mention prettier than you. I always like spending time with her.”
Pretty and entertaining? Miss Elliott? And what was this Katy shit?
I barked out a laugh at those descriptions.
“In my office,” I ordered.
He followed me in, and I shut the door. “What are you doing here? If David saw you . . .”
He shook his head. “Relax. It’s not as if I’ve never been here before today. And what if he does see me and suspects something? Make him sweat a little.”
I paused. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. He knew Brian was the biggest headhunter in Victoria. Maybe if he saw Brian wander around Anderson Inc. it would make him a little nervous.
“Lay off charming my assistant. It’s a waste of time, and I thought you had a girlfriend.”
“I do, and I wasn’t charming her. She’s great. I enjoy talking to Katy.”
I snorted. “Yeah, she’s great—if you like doormats who masquerade as emaciated scarecrows.”
Brian frowned. “You don’t like her? Really? What’s not to like?”
“She’s fucking perfect,” I stated, my sarcasm thick. “She does everything I tell her. Now, drop the subject and tell me why you’re here.”
He lowered his voice. “I had coffee with Adrian Davis this morning.”
I crossed the office and sat down at my desk. “Adrian Davis of The Gavin Group?”
He nodded. “I was visiting Amy, and I went to see him to arrange our round of golf next week. He’s agreed to talk to Graham about interviewing you.”
I thumped the top of the desk with my fist. “Fucking great news. What did you tell him?”
“I said you were leaving for personal reasons. I told him, despite the rumors, your situation had changed and you were no longer comfortable with the direction of Anderson Inc.”
“My situation?”
“I told him your playboy days were behind you, and the way you conduct business had evolved. I informed him you wanted a different sort of life.”
“He believed you?”
Brian smoothed the crease of his pants with his fingertips, meeting my gaze. “He did.”
“Did you tell him what caused this miraculous turnabout?”
“You sort of suggested it yourself last night. I said you fell in love.”
I nodded. It was exactly what I was thinking. Graham liked the family atmosphere, and I would have to fit in.
Brian regarded me shrewdly. “Given your history, Richard, this woman will have to be vastly different from the women you’ve been linked with, especially recently.” He tilted his head. “Someone more down-to-earth, warm, and caring. Real.”
“I know.”
“Is it really worth it?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll lie and pretend, all because of a job?”
“It’s more than a job. David screwed me over—so did Tyler. It’s not the first time. I’m not taking this shit anymore.” I reclined in my chair, staring out the window. “I may be hired under less than honest intentions, but Graham will get a fucking great addition to his company. I’ll work my ass off for him.”
“And the woman?”
“We break up. It happens.”
“Any ideas who the lucky lady is going to be?”
I shook my head. “I’ll figure it out.”
There was a knock and Miss Elliott entered, placing a bagel and fresh coffee on my desk. “Mr. Maxwell, can I get you another cup of coffee?”
He shook his head, smiling at her. “I told you, it’s Brian. Thanks, Katy, but no. I have to get going, and your boss here has a huge project to work on.”
She turned to me, her eyes wide. “Is there something I need to do, Mr. VanRyan? Can I help in some way?”
“Absolutely not. There is nothing I need from you.”
Her cheeks flushed, and her head dropped. She nodded, exiting the office, closing the door behind her.
“God, you’re an ass,” Brian o
bserved. “You’re so rude to her.”
I shrugged, unrepentant.
He rose from his chair, buttoning his jacket. “You need to watch your attitude to have a chance for your plan to work, Richard.” He indicated in the direction of the door. “That pretty girl is the exact sort of person you need to interact with Graham.”
I ignored the pretty remark, gaping at him. “Interact?”
He smirked. “Do you really think he’s going to accept a name and a brief introduction? I told you how involved he is with his staff. If he decides to hire you, he is going to want to meet your lady—more than once.”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I thought I could get someone I knew to pose for an evening, but Brian was right. I would need to keep up the façade for a while—at least until I proved my worth to Graham.
He hesitated at the door. “I assume Miss Elliott isn’t married.”
“That should be obvious.”
He shook his head. “You’re blind, Richard. Your solution is right in front of you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re a smart man. Figure it out.”
He departed, leaving the door open behind him. I heard him say something that made Miss Elliott laugh, the sound unusual coming from her area. I grabbed my bagel, tearing off a bite with more force than necessary.
What the hell was he suggesting?
A niggling thought began to grow, and I glanced at the door.
He couldn’t be serious.
I groaned, dropping my bagel on my plate, my appetite gone.
He was totally serious.
Fuck my life.
RICHARD
THE NOISE OF THE TREADMILL was a steady hum under my feet as I pounded away. I had hardly slept last night, and my mood was dark. Sweat dripped down my back and face. I picked up my towel and wiped it away roughly, tossing it to the side. My iPod blared with heavy music, and still it wasn’t loud enough, so I turned it up, glad the condo was soundproofed.
I kept going, almost at a frantic pace. I had gone over all my options and plans in the dark of the night, coming up with two ideas.
My first thought had been if Brian and Adrian got me in, I could try to bluff my way through an interview, telling Graham only vague details of the woman who supposedly changed my outlook and therefore, me. If I approached it right, I could manage to keep up a façade until I had proven myself to Graham, then have the unspeakable happen—this perfect woman leaves me. I could play heartbroken, and throw myself into work.
Except from what Brian had explained, my idea probably wouldn’t work.
It meant I needed to produce a physical woman—one who would convince Graham I was a better man than he believed me to be. Someone, as Brian put it, “real, warm, and down-to-earth.”
I didn’t know many women who would fall in those categories, unless they were over sixty. I didn’t think Graham would believe I could fall in love with someone twice my age. None of the women I fraternized with would be able to pass his inspection. I rolled around the idea of hiring someone—an actress perhaps—but that seemed too risky.
Brian’s words kept repeating themselves in my head. “You’re blind, Richard. Your solution is right in front of you.”
Miss Elliott.
He thought I should use Miss Elliott as my girlfriend.
If I took a step back and tried to be objective—he had a point. It was the perfect cover. If Graham thought I was leaving Anderson Inc. because I was in love with my assistant and chose her—and our relationship—over my job there, it would score major points with him. She was unlike any other woman I had ever been with. Brian found her warm, bright, and engaging. Other people seemed to like her. All pluses.
Except, it was Miss Elliott.
With a groan, I shut off the machine, grabbing my discarded towel. In the kitchen, I got a bottle of water, chugged it down, and turned on my laptop. Signing into the company site, I scrolled through the employee files, stopping on Miss Elliott’s page. I studied her photograph, trying to be unbiased.
There was nothing remarkable about her, but her bright blue eyes were wide with long lashes. I imagined her dark hair was long since I had never seen it done in any other way aside from a tight bun. Her skin was very pale; I wondered how she would look under the skillful hands of a makeup artist and dressed in some decent clothes. Squinting at the screen, I stared at her picture. Some sleep wouldn’t hurt to rid her of the dark circles under her eyes and maybe eating something other than peanut butter and jam sandwiches would help. She was rail thin. I liked my women with a few more curves.
I groaned in frustration, rubbing the back of my neck.
I supposed, in this case, it didn’t matter what I preferred. It was what I needed.
In this case, I might have to admit I needed Miss Elliott.
Goddamn my life.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen, surprised to see Brian’s name.
“Hey.”
“Sorry if I woke you up.”
I glanced at the clock, seeing it was only six-thirty. I was surprised he was awake, though. I knew he was a late riser.
“I’ve been up a while. What’s going on?”
“Graham will see you today at eleven.”
I stood up, feeling a flow of nerves ripple down my spine. “Are you serious? Why so fast?”
“He’s away for the remainder of the week, and I told Adrian you were considering accepting a job interview in Toronto.”
I chuckled. “I owe you.”
“Big. So big you’ll never be able to repay me.” He chortled. “You know there’s a good chance this will go nowhere unless you can convince him things are different for you, right? I laid it on pretty thick with Adrian—but my word is only going to take you so far.”
“I know.”
“Okay. Good luck. Let me know what happens.”
“I will.”
Hanging up, I checked my schedule, smirking when I realized Miss Elliott had updated it last night. I had a breakfast meeting at eight, which meant I’d be back in the office by ten or so. I decided not to go into the office. I had an idea how to introduce my so-called girlfriend into my interview.
I dialed Miss Elliott’s number. She answered after a few rings, mumbling her sleepy greeting.
“Mmmm . . . ello?”
“Miss Elliott.”
“What?”
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to be patient. It was obvious I had woken her. I tried again.
“Miss Elliott, it’s Mr. VanRyan.”
Her voice was raspy and confused. “Mr. VanRyan?”
I sighed heavily. “Yes.”
I could hear a lot of movement, and I had the mental image of her scrambling to a sitting position, looking rumpled.
She cleared her throat. “Is, ah, there a problem, Mr. VanRyan?”
“I won’t be in the office until after lunch.”
There was silence.
“I have a personal matter to take care of.”
Her voice was dry when she spoke. “You could have texted me . . . sir.”
“I need you to do two things for me.” I kept going, ignoring the somewhat sarcastic edge to her voice. “If David comes in and asks where I am, tell him I’m on a personal matter and you have no idea where. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“I need you to call me at eleven-fifteen. Exactly.”
“Did you want me to say anything or just breathe heavily?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, surprised at her tone. It would seem my PA wasn’t pleased at being woken early. She was being far mouthier than usual, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“I need you to tell me my four o’clock appointment has been switched to three.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. Now repeat what I just told you.”
She made a strange sound, somewhat like a grumble, which made me smirk. Miss Elliott appeared to have a bit of a backbone if t
he circumstances were right. However, I wanted to make sure she was awake enough to remember my instructions.
“I’m to tell David you are on a personal errand and I have no idea where. I will call you at exactly eleven-fifteen and tell you your four o’clock has been switched to three.”
“Good. Don’t screw it up.”
“But Mr. VanRyan, it doesn’t make any sense, why would—”
Not bothering to listen anymore, I hung up.
RICHARD
THE BUILDING HOUSING THE GAVIN Group was a polar opposite to that of Anderson Inc. Unlike the vast skyscraper of steel and glass I worked from daily, this building was brick, only four stories high, and surrounded by trees. I parked my car after checking in with the guard at the entrance, who smiled pleasantly and handed me a guest pass. Entering the building, another security guard greeted me and let me know Graham Gavin’s office was located on the top floor, then wished me a good day.
Minutes later, a secretary led me to a boardroom, handed me a fresh cup of coffee, and told me Graham would be with me momentarily. I took the time to absorb the details of the room around me, again struck by the difference between the two companies.
Anderson Inc. was all about flash. The offices and boardroom were all state of the art—white and black was the predominant palette. Even the artwork was monochrome with lots of metal everywhere. Hard, modern chairs, thick glass-topped tables and desks, blond hardwood on the floor—all cold and remote. If this room was any indication, I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The walls were lined with warm oak paneling, there was an oval wood boardroom table surrounded by plush leather chairs, and deep, soft carpeting underfoot. An open area to the right housed an efficient kitchen. The walls showcased many of their successful campaigns, all framed and displayed tastefully. Various awards lined the shelves.
At one end of the room was an idea board. There were scribbles and ideas sketched out on it. I stepped closer, studying the images, quickly absorbing the structure of the campaign they were outlining for a brand of footwear. It was all wrong.
A deep voice brought me out of my musings.
The Contract Page 2