by Shayne Ford
She smiles appreciatively and shows me to a chair.
“Can I get you anything?”
I slowly shake my head.
“No. I’m fine,” I say with a strained voice.
“No need to worry, dear. You’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
I nod in silence.
Smoothly, she spins away and enters her office, which if I’m lucky to get this job, will be mine for a few weeks. The word is, her medical leave has to do with a surgical procedure meant to remove a few years from her face and smooth her looks.
She looks great–– if you ask me, but she probably does so precisely because she’s an ardent fan of this kind of interventions.
She leaves the office door open and for the next thirty minutes or so I watch her going through her daily routine. She answers calls, types reports, and addresses a few issues with a couple of employees.
Overall it looks like a great working environment, and that makes me twice as nervous. I’m so close to finally getting my first real paycheck.
As time passes by, I begin to relax. Five minutes to nine, she springs out of her chair, smooths her hair with both hands, and vanishes out of her cubicle through a side door.
Promptly, my heart leaps back to my throat.
LEX
“Tell me about her... ” I say, shrugging out of my suit jacket.
I fish my phone out of my pocket and slide it on my desk before I swing my gaze to my secretary.
Smoothly, she slips the resume next to my phone.
“You said you wanted a qualified candidate, and someone who doesn’t need supervision.”
“Okay...” I mutter as I sink into my chair.
“And then you wanted me to narrow it down to my top three choices. She’s my first choice.
“Why’s that?” I ask, absently running my gaze over the candidate’s name.
Dahlia Fox.
“She has a business degree. Graduated top of her class. She’s young and hungry.”
“What’s the catch?”
She goes silent, and I raise my eyes.
“No experience,” she says.
I push back against my chair and lock her eyes.
“Do you expect me to babysit her?”
“With perhaps a few exceptions, I don’t think that would be necessary, Sir.”
“What makes you have so much faith in this... girl? How old is she?”
“She just graduated from college. Twenty three.”
A smile tilts my lips. Lined with disappointment.
“I wouldn’t bother you with her, but I think she’s the best replacement for me.”
“Why didn’t she apply for a different position if she’s that good?”
“She wanted to, but we don’t have any openings. If things go well, there may be something available for her when I come back.”
“How come she knows about this job?”
“One of our employees. Christine Jackson. She works in the Sales Division. Dahlia Fox is her friend.”
Pursing my lips, I muse for a moment.
“If she is your best pick, how are the other candidates?”
“Not so eager to learn, and a little more set in their ways. Most of them have experience but no degree.”
I take a long breath that sounds more like a sigh. She wants to add something else when I flick my hand up.
“Okay... send her in. If she’s no good, you better reschedule your leave of absence,” I grumble.
A smile curves her lips.
“She’s good. Just give her a chance,” she says with a softer voice. “You need coffee?”
I cut my eyes at her.
“Coffee will not make me feel better,” I grump.
She almost starts asking me something else when she gets a glimpse of my furrowed brow and swiftly removes herself from the room.
Sheila Lane is one of those people who have the rare gift of guessing your thoughts before you even have them.
A few decades of experience, on point intuition, and perfect communication skills make her irreplaceable. We both know it. There’s no way some college girl would be able to accomplish half of what Sheila is tasked with on a daily basis.
I hear a soft knock.
“Come in.”
The door swings slowly, a young woman entering my line of sight.
We lock eyes briefly before she shifts her gaze back to the door as she smoothly closes it. She spins to face me and freezes not far from the door.
Tall and slender, her skin looking soft like a peach, her eyes glistening in the morning light, trimmed with curled eyelashes.
She gives me a faint smile as I take a quick inventory of her attire. Her business suit falls smoothly on her body, flattering her silhouette.
A soft blush tinges her face, telling me how nervous she is.
The suit makes her look more mature, yet her face and eyes tell a different story, and also the real story. Everything is new to her. The attire, this kind of workplace, and even someone like me.
How in the world is she gonna deal with the Board of Directors? They’re going to eat her alive.
“Mr. Harrington,” she says.
Her voice has the sweet sound of a bell.
Silent, I motion her to take a seat.
She lowers herself into a chair and straightens her back, her eyes connecting with mine.
I tear my gaze away from her and quickly scan her resume. Everything looks great on paper. Except for the big empty space in the experience section.
My eyes slip to her a couple of times. It’s enough to make her fidget. She shifts her position in her seat and aligns her knees, drawing my gaze to her legs.
She looks... fragile. Easy to crush.
They’re going to smell her inexperience from a mile, and tax her heavily. Even if I hire her, she won’t last a week.
She’ll give up on me faster than I can spell her name.
Dahlia Fox.
We lock eyes again, and I read way more than I should in her gaze. That’s not a good sign. Not only that she’s nervous and doesn’t have much confidence, but she’s also desperate to get this job. At least she’s smart enough to realize she’s an impostor.
A soft smile lights up her hazel eyes as she lets her gaze rove over my features.
Great. As if she needed another distraction.
I push the resume to the side, my mind made up already.
“So tell me a little bit about yourself.”
She starts talking.
Sadly it’s a canned answer that makes me shift my attention from the string of words to her girlish features and long lashes.
A nude layer of lipstick makes her lips shimmer. I flick my eyes away as she almost catches me staring at her mouth.
Furtively, I steal a glance or two in her direction as she talks about her school and her credentials. I can’t focus on her words, so I’m back to examining her face.
Her skin is pale, and her hair is long, gathered in a pony tail.
There’s beauty in her, painted with a soft brush, but nothing else that I can see. I wonder if she ever felt a deep emotion.
Most likely not.
“Why a business degree?” I cut off her ramblings.
“I’m good with numbers, and I’m also an analytical person, but to be honest, it was also a practical choice. As much as I love music and arts, I couldn’t afford to embrace something like that.”
Hmmm.
“I believe Ms. Lane walked you through her daily tasks,” I say.
“Yes, she did.”
“How good are you under pressure?” I ask, pointing my gaze at her.
Not even two seconds slip by, and a soft quiver claims her lips.
She just failed the test.
If I can throw her off with a glance, anyone can.
“Okay... I guess that’s it, Ms. Fox,” I say, pushing out of my chair and smoothly walking in front of my desk.
It takes her a few moments.
Evading my ey
es, she grabs her purse and pushes out of her chair. Eventually, she turns a face drained out of blood to me.
Propped against my desk, I fold my arms across my chest.
She holds my gaze, and for the first time, I notice the light of an emotion shining across her face.
She’s deeply disappointed by the rejection–– one of the first lessons all of us have to learn and live with it in life.
She’s probably as good as she says she is. Too bad, her age and lack of experience blow it for her.
Conflicted emotions flit through her eyes, the words captive on her lips.
She searches my eyes for a moment. I gaze at her, offering nothing.
“I’m perfectly aware...” she says with a soft voice before she clears her throat and starts all over. “You probably think I can’t do this job despite my qualifications,” she says more assertively, pointing to her resume. “But that’s not true.”
“Why’s that?”
“You think I’m soft and unprepared, and you are right. I lack job experience. Any job experience if I’m honest.”
Slowly, I purse my lips and raise an eyebrow.
“What you don’t know is that I’m ready to learn everything. My mind is like a sponge, and my learning speed is par to none. I can be whatever you want me to be. There is nothing to hold me back. You can have someone more experienced than me, and you’d probably have to spend the same amount of time if not more, making sure they don’t mess things up.”
“But see... That’s exactly the problem, Ms. Fox. I don’t have the time or the patience to supervise someone who is supposed to help me, not hinder me, read my mind, not constantly ask for directions, make my day as smooth as it can be, not put a demand on my attention.”
“That won’t happen,” she says, confident this time.
This is her desperation talking.
“I’ll be the person you want me to be if you give me a chance. I promise you by the time Ms. Lane comes back from her medical leave I’ll know you better than you know yourself,” she says without batting a lash.
I can’t trace cockiness or even detect a bluff. She really believes what she says.
Boldly, she holds my gaze as I ponder for a moment.
“I’ll make a decision by the end of the day. You’ll hear from us, either way. Whoever replaces Ms. Lane will start Monday morning and work with her for a few days. Are you able to do that?”
“Yes, Sir,” she says, sounding like a schoolgirl.
A light brightens her eyes.
I push back a smile and offer her a cold gaze.
“Okay then. It was nice meeting you Miss Fox,” I say, stretching my hand out to her.
She offers hers, and I hold it for a moment. It’s soft and warm, and I feel her pulse racing beneath her smooth skin. Heat spreads over her face, coloring her cheeks scarlet.
This may become a bit of a problem.
A sound of voices tears the silence as footsteps resonate across the hallway. The door swings wide open, and Ed steps in, my secretary right behind him.
Her eyes meet mine before she swiftly pulls away.
Ed’s gaze dips as Dahlia Fox peels her hand away from mine.
“Oh... Hello,” he says, having a hard time to hide his wolfish smile.
“Miss Fox... Edward Preston, my business partner,” I say deadpan.
She turns to him.
Gently, he takes her hand and holds it for a moment, his eyes narrowing with a mischievous smile. The moment she looks at me, he swings his gaze to me as well and winks behind her back.
“Okay, then. Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity. I look forward to hearing from you,” she says.
I give her a soft nod, and she vanishes out the door.
4
LEX
“Who the hell was that?” he asks as I round my desk and sink into my leather chair.
He takes a seat across from me.
The charcoal gray pants and dress blue shirt fit him impeccably, outlining his muscular frame. His sleeves are cuffed up, revealing his forearms.
A soft knock draws our eyes to the door. My secretary pushes through with a porcelain cup in her hand.
“Your cappuccino, Sir,” she says, setting the cup on a side table next to Ed.
He gives her a small smile before she spins around and vanishes out the door.
“What’s wrong with regular coffee?”
“I was in the mood for a cappuccino.”
“Spoiled brat,” I mutter. “What brings you here, Preston? I thought you took the day off. Especially after last night.”
A sly smile drapes over his lips.
“A bit jealous?”
I crash back into my chair, pushing back a smile.
“Why the hell would I be?”
He takes a sip of coffee and runs the tip of his tongue over his lips.
“So, who is that woman?” he asks, placing the cup on the table.
“The replacement.”
“For?”
I tip my head, motioning to Sheila’s office.
“Oh, yeah... I forgot. Do I get to work with her as well?” he asks, curving his lips into a sly smile.
“First of all, I’m not sure I want to hire her, but if she starts working for us, she’ll be here with me. So, unless you work here, she’s not gonna work at the Casino with you.”
“What’s the problem with her?”
“Too young, unversed.”
He laughs softly.
“Are we talking work here?”
I cock an eyebrow.
“Can you stop thinking about your dick for a moment?”
He chuckles again.
“I wish you’d think more about yours too,” he says.
“I’m good.”
“No, you’re not.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I say, pushing out of my chair and walking to a small side table.
I think I know where he goes with it, and I’m not in the mood to hear his opinion. Yet again.
The water makes the ice cubes clink in my glass.
I take a swig and turn to him. He no longer smiles, and my chest tightens. Perhaps, I should stop him before he starts.
Silent, I look at him as I take another gulp.
“You can’t be in love with her, Lex...” he says.
There’s no trace of humor in his voice.
“I’m not in love with anyone,” I say, my voice strained.
“Yes, you are... And the fact that you fight it and don’t even want to admit it makes it ten times worse. You think James doesn’t know? He knows, man. And I don’t think it’s easy for him either, considering the history between us, but he doesn’t hold a grudge against you. He knows how you feel.”
“Have you talked to him?”
He shakes his head.
“No. But I have eyes. I noticed how you looked at her last night. That’s not something you can control. He probably saw it too. But, this is not about him. It’s about you. You can let that story split your heart in two. She’s one hundred percent his. She always was. Even if she briefly showed you something else, and it was genuine, she’s not your girl, man.”
“I know all that,” I grump, slumping back into my chair.
“Then do something about it.”
“Like what?” I bark, aggravated.
He pauses.
“First, you should admit it to yourself,” he says.
“Okay. I do. Do you think I don’t know all that? Or do you think I take pleasure in feeling like crap over a woman who was never meant to be mine? But you know what? In the end, it doesn’t have anything to do with Rain. No matter how close I got to her, I always knew what the outcome would be. I knew I couldn’t have her. So that’s that. That’s not what the problem is.”
“What is it, then?” he asks, giving me a questioning look.
“I don’t think it’s only one thing. The little time I spent with her shed a different light on my life. And seeing him how h
appy, and changed for the better he is, has made me think about this kind of stuff. That’s fucking all. How many ways can you fuck someone before you get bored out of your mind?”
“Is that what you think it is? You being bored?”
“I think?”
Shaking my head, I breathe out a soft chuckle.
“We both are, Ed. Why do you think you’re chatting some youngster ear off, and hook up with strangers at a party?”
“She is not a stranger,” he says, smiling smugly.
I wave him off and drink more water.
“What’s her name?” I ask.
“Chloe... something.”
“There you go. Color of her eyes?”
“She had them closed when she sucked me so I can’t...” he says, and I flick my hand at him dismissively, barely suppressing my grin.
“It was that good,” he adds, amused.
“How is she not a stranger?”
His lips purse, a sly smile crawling up his face.
“She is someone’s wife.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I burst out. “You say I’m bored? Maybe I am. At least I’m not looking for trouble. You talk dirty to a girl, without having the slightest idea who she is. Her dad may be a cop for all you know.”
“No, he’s not.”
“As if you know. And then you score some married ass. Who’s her husband?”
“Some banker. Peterson or Paterson.”
“Jefferson.”
“Yes,” he says, relieved.
“That was Candy Jefferson?”
“Uh-huh. Why?” he asks, smiling innocently.
Fucking with me.
I shake my head.
“Had you been present at the last round of negotiations you would’ve met the sucker. He’s the one who ultimately approves the line of credit we asked for.”
He shrugs.
“So? It’s not my fault his wife sleeps around. Besides, she volunteered, and I had no fucking clue who she was until she opened her mouth at the end. And by that I mean––”
I shoot my hand up.
“Got it. But someone could’ve seen you last night. The meeting is scheduled for next week. If he gets wind of this story, that’s a meeting you don’t want to attend.
“It’s business, Lex. What the fuck? We pour money into their coffers.”
“Yeah. But so are other companies. He’s not chained to us.”