P.S. You're Intolerable (The Harder They Fall, #3)

I hadn’t known who I’d be interviewing to work for. Since there was no way I would have convinced myself to come here if I had, that was a good thing. Working directly for the CEO of Levy Development was so far above my paygrade.

But Elliot Levy was personally giving me a chance. The head of this company had challenged me to problem solve. I was here now. How could I not at least try?

I stood there for a solid minute, too stunned to take action.

Then I had nine minutes. Just nine minutes to possibly change the course of my life.



I walked into my house and slammed the door shut behind me hard enough for the bare walls to rattle and the fine layer of dust coating just about everything to take flight. My hand pressed against my racing heart, and I took a deep breath.

It was over. I’d survived.

Liam sauntered out of what was supposed to be a kitchen but was more of a storage room slash disaster zone. His grin faltered at the sight of me sliding down the door, and he hurried over, catching me before I could fall on my butt.

“Come here, Kit. You look all tuckered out.”

I let him lead me to the most uncomfortable couch known to man and gingerly lowered myself onto it. I’d been poked by a spring one too many times to be anything but careful when sitting on the death trap.

It was temporary.

All of this was.

I kept reminding myself that.

Liam took my hands, rubbing them between his. “How did it go?”

“Like cherry bombs in a middle school toilet. Sounds fun until someone loses an eye.” Liam gave me a look that said he didn’t get it, so I gave him more details. “It began with me spilling coffee all over the CEO’s shoes.”

He winced, hissing air between his clenched teeth. “Babe, we talked about coffee. You said you were going to cut it out.”

Liam’s Australian accent normally amused me, but his admonishment was grating. He’d wanted me to cut out coffee. My doctor had assured me a cup a day was safe and Google had confirmed it.

“I know, and believe me, I will now. I just needed—” I shook my head. There was no need to justify myself. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and the coffee was beside the point. “Well, he gave me ten minutes to get it together and make myself presentable. I made it to his office in nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds.”

“His office?” Liam’s blond brows popped.

“Yes. The position is Elliot Levy’s executive assistant.”

His mouth stretched into a wide grin. “Shit, babe. That’s golden. How did the interview go?”

I swallowed hard. “After the scene in the lobby, it went shockingly well.”

Elliot Levy had been nearly impossible to read. Only the slight raise of his brow and a barely perceptible twitch of his mouth had told me he’d been at least a little impressed by the outfit I’d put together with the help of the security guards and the lost and found box.

Liam clapped his hands together. “All right. The compensation package has to be huge for that position.”

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Of course that was his first thought. Money was all Liam talked about these days. He had valid reasons for being distracted by it, sure—the house renovations being the biggest drain at the moment—but I was tired of the topic.

I was just plain tired.

At nine weeks pregnant, it was to be expected, but sometimes, exhaustion hit me like a sledgehammer out of the blue, and with it came extreme grumpiness.

I had to be careful not to take it out on Liam. It wasn’t his fault the one time we slept together resulted in the little life growing inside me.

Okay, it was half his fault.

To say this baby had been unexpected would have been the understatement of the century. I was only twenty-five, far from settled, and Liam and I were friends and travel buddies—nothing more. Not exactly the stable environment a child deserved.

But he was all in on the co-parenting thing. And his excitement to be a dad had convinced me I wanted this baby too.

“I don’t know about the salary. First, they have to want to hire me.” I scrunched my nose as Liam pulled my feet into his lap. He was under the impression foot massages solved everything for pregnant ladies, and I didn’t quite have the heart to tell him I wasn’t that type of pregnant lady yet.

“How did he end the interview?” Liam asked as he dug his dagger-like thumbs into the arch of my foot.

“He said HR will check my references, and of course—”

Liam chuckled. “Oh, Christ. Well, good luck getting someone to answer.”

I went still, an uneasy prickle crawling up my spine. “What did you do?”

He shrugged. “Just spruced up your CV a little. Gave you more experience with an Australian firm that doesn’t quite exist.”

I stared at him, fire rising from my chest to the top of my head. Oblivious, he laughed to himself and continued with his terrible foot massage.

He’d messed with my résumé? This was beyond the pale. There was not an iota of a chance Elliot Levy would look twice at me once he found out I’d lied about my past job experience—my fault or not. “Liam, are you kidding—?”

“Calm down, babe. They’re not going to call Australia. Plus, the email address I gave is registered to me. I’ll tell them what a stellar employee you were. Don’t get worked up about it.”

I tossed the nearest object at his head. Lucky for him, it was a pillow. “I should bludgeon you to death for this.”

“No, you should thank me. Soon, you’re going to be bringing home the big bucks. We’ll flip this house and find a cute little place to raise the kid. You’ll see, babe. Six months from now, we’ll be fat and happy. No need to worry.”

Liam sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to believe him, but lying was no way to start anything, and I hated that he’d fabricated a reference on my résumé.

But Elliot Levy was a brilliant businessman. He had to know I’d be an utter disaster as his assistant. I soothed myself with the surety there was no way I’d be hired for this job.





Chapter Two





Catherine





Questioning how or why I was hired would be looking a gift horse in the mouth, and I wasn’t about that life.

Three days after my interview, someone from human resources called to inform me I was to show up promptly at eight a.m. on Monday and would be shown the ropes by a woman named Davida.

I spent the ensuing three days gnawing on my nails and watching Liam walk in circles while claiming to be working on the kitchen.

He was always working on the kitchen. I’d witnessed this man erect an entire house in a matter of days, but when it came to the house I’d sunk my life savings into, he had no sense of urgency.

By the time Monday rolled around, I was crawling out of my skin. Nothing had changed in the kitchen except the piles of material shifting from one side to the other. Liam wouldn’t let me help, not even with the light stuff. I had never been someone who did well with being told what to do, but the bean in my belly required me to take a step back and at least try to relax.

I had a feeling I wouldn’t be doing much relaxing once I started working for Elliot.