I recall how he apologized to her for his manners when he first walked in and wonder how long they’ve worked together to get him to that point. Probably thirty years.
“He’s not violent, if that’s what you’re wondering. And he’s not verbally abusive. He’s just very intense.”
“So I’ve been told. But there’s intense, then there’s Cole McCord. His poor receptionist is terrified of him.”
“Marion is terrified of her own shadow. She’s a lovely girl, but a poor match for that position.”
“Why did he hire her, then?”
Simone smiles. “He enjoys terrifying people.”
“That’s just mean.”
She pulls up a chair and sits opposite me, crossing her legs and folding her hands on her lap. Wearing a lovely lavender skirt suit I recognize as vintage Chanel and a pair of beige Ferragamo pumps, she’s classy from head to toe.
“Some people would rather be feared than loved. He’s one of them.”
“Again, mean.”
“Or a defense mechanism.”
I study her for a moment, understanding she’s trying to give me insight into our boss without getting too specific about it.
“He doesn’t terrify you, does he?”
She smiles. “Nor you. Which is why I think you have a good chance of lasting here.”
At least for ninety days until I get that bonus.
Sighing, I push my hands through my hair and look around the office. “I guess you should show me where to get started. I have a feeling Mr. Dark and Stormy doesn’t tolerate dawdling.”
I freeze, horrified that my nickname for Cole slipped past my lips, but Simone chuckles.
“That’s a good one. Most everyone around here calls him the Grinch.”
I say drily, “A cynical grump born with a heart two sizes too small.”
“So the movie described him.” Simone grows series, her smile fading. “But the thing about the Grinch was that his heart wasn’t too small. He was just unbearably lonely.”
Unbearably lonely.
I recall how Cole looked at me at the bar that night we met, how his eyes were filled with such naked longing. How we bonded over our shared misery about our recent breakups.
How I told him he wasn’t a villain as he described himself, he was a hero, because only a hero would break his own heart to save someone else’s.
Now I feel like an asshole.
A prideful, impatient asshole who should have taken a deep breath and maybe cut the guy some slack when he overreacted at seeing me standing in his office doorway.
Me, the girl he fucked to within an inch of her life a month before.
Me, the girl he ordered dinner and breakfast for because he wanted to make sure I didn’t go hungry.
Me, the girl he spent who knows how much money on a couture blouse to replace the one he ruined.
Me. Shay Sanders. The girl who walked out of that hotel the morning after our night together feeling happier than I had in years.
Because of him.
The man who not even five minutes ago I compared to an owl.
Good God, I told the poor man he had no neck, and I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself? He should’ve fired me on the spot for insolence.
Dismayed, I look at Simone. “I think I owe him an apology for how I acted just now.”
“No, you don’t.”
“But you weren’t here. You didn’t hear how I spoke to him. How rude I was.”
“Trust me, Shay, it’s good for him. If you were really out of line, you wouldn’t still be sitting behind that desk. But if I may give you a word of advice? Don’t disrespect him in front of other employees. He can’t bear to be belittled with an audience. But he can take as good as he gives one-on-one. And he needs strong people around him who aren’t intimidated by his overbearing persona.”
I notice she said persona instead of personality, indicating Cole’s bearishness is a calculated choice. One meant to keep people at arm’s length.
Then I remember I told him that his heart wasn’t cold, it was warm, he just kept it on ice so it didn’t get hurt, and I feel like an asshole all over again.
How could I see him so clearly in that hotel room but not in this office?
Maybe it has something to do with his magical dick. I haven’t had it in weeks, and my vision got clouded.
I want to bang my head against the desk.
“Thank you for the advice, Simone. I won’t forget it.”
“Good. Now let’s get to work.”
For the next few hours as she introduces me to all the work my new job entails, I do my best to focus, but Cole simmers on the back burner of my mind, his angry eyes haunting me like ghosts.
Cole
I spend the rest of the day locked in my office strategizing the Shay Avoidance Plan.
It works like this: move to Alaska.
Because no matter how I might try to convince myself that I’ll only communicate with her via email, won’t attend meetings where she’ll be present, and turn the other way if we happen to cross paths in the building, the fact remains that I’ll know she’s nearby every day, and I’ll want to go see her.
I can still smell her perfume.
Kill me.
We’ve established that she’s not going to quit, nor will I fire her. So now, I’ve only got one path forward.
Pretend she doesn’t exist.
Which will prove extremely fucking difficult considering she’s my goddamn assistant.
Frustrated, I pull up her resume on my computer and glare at it until my vision blurs. Then, at a loss, I pick up the phone and call my sister-in-law.
“Lit Happens, how may I help you?”
“What do you know about Shay Sanders?”
Emery laughs. “Oh hi, Cole. It’s nice to hear from you. Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking. How are you?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do pleasantries right now.”
“Shocking.”
She laughs again, but it’s affectionate. She’s used to me by now. And if she can tolerate my psychopath brother, Callum, she can certainly handle my quirks. Compared to him, I’m almost sane.
“Shay Sanders. Tell me everything.”
Her tone changes from light to worried. “Oh God. Please don’t tell me there’s a problem already.”
Yes, the problem is that I fucked her before she started working for me, and I very much want to do it again and again and again, but we have an ironclad policy against it.
Also, inconveniently, she thinks I’m a dick.
But I can’t say any of that. I also don’t want to lie, so I sidestep. “She said that you told her I was your customer.”
“When Callum mentioned he’d contacted a recruiter to fill your assistant position, he asked me if I might know anyone. I said I’d keep an eye out, but he stressed that I should be careful. I knew what that meant. Did she seem upset about it?”
No, but she did seem upset that I suggested she’s a scheming, manipulative liar.
I feel the beginnings of a headache forming a band of tightness around my skull. Then I remember I didn’t have lunch because I was too busy obsessing over Shay. Closing my eyes, I grasp my temples and squeeze.
“No. Why didn’t I know you referred her?”
“I don’t know. When she sent me flowers to thank me for recommending her for the position, I mentioned it to Callum. I assumed he would’ve told you.”
He probably would have, but as I avoid him as much as I avoid everyone else, he didn’t have much chance.
It’s not as if we’re close, anyway. I might be the chief financial officer, but he’s the chief executive officer, and that means he thinks I’m beneath him.
Callum’s the oldest, the golden child who can do no wrong in my parents’ eyes. His ego is a steamroller, flattening everything in its path.
Carter’s the baby. He’s most like our mother, popular and outgoing, always the center of attention. He’s a genius with people and charms them with ease, an incredibly annoying characteristic for those of us who don’t share it.
I’m in the middle. Competitive. Risk-taking. Misunderstood.
“How long have you known her?”
A moment of silence follows as Emery thinks. “Three years maybe?”
“And what’s your opinion of her?”
“She’s great.”
When I sigh, Emery says drily, “God, you sound so much like Callum when you do that.”
I resolve to never sigh again. “I meant what can you tell me about her that might help me understand her better?”