Three Bosses’ Assistant: Love by Numbers Book 2

by Casey, Nicole

  "Typical administration duties like sending rejection emails, answering phones, answering to our every whim, sending paper-"

  "Every whim?" Sascha interrupted.

  "It’s rude to interrupt your superiors," I growled, but I wasn’t actually angry at all. I wanted to see her gears turn.

  "That’s not actually a part of the job; you can’t think I’m that naive. Are you still joking? Do you even take this position seriously?" Sascha almost went red in the face, and I couldn’t help but burst out in laughter. The harder I laughed, the harder my accent becomes.

  "Of course, I take my job seriously, and I hope you take yours just as seriously as I take mine."

  "So, not at all?"

  "You shouldn’t be rude to your superiors." I smiled. The room fell silent, and Sascha, too, burst out in laughter. She was irresistible, from her laugh to the way her nose wrinkled when she got annoyed. "In all seriousness, dorogoy, you’ll be assisting us in various tasks, including answering phones and sending emails. You’ll also, technically, be answering to Carson and Ryland as long as you’re in this office. Your salary, tax information, and everything else are included in this document. Take a moment to read it, and let me know if you need clarification."

  "I have a question."

  "Sure."

  "What are you saying in Russian?"

  "That’s for me to know, and for you to find out." I smiled and winked at her.

  Sascha had no questions for me as she read the document silently. I was staring intently at her, in fact, it was difficult to look away. I’m not sure if she was doing it on purpose, but I could see directly down her shirt. Her breasts were perfect bell-shapes and perky. Sascha looked fit, and fit meant endurance. I wondered if she’d be able to keep up with me.

  "I’m finished." She placed the documents in front of her, and I snapped back to reality.

  "Great," I placed them inside my folder for new hires, and handed her a duplicate copy. "Before you go, I want you to meet the other employees. It will only take a few minutes."

  "Sounds lovely," Sasha replied.

  I took her to meet the other employees of Calliope Publishing. First, I introduced her to our intern-editors, Noah, Dante, Harvey and Priya. Noah seemed to take an immediate shine to her and was excited when Sascha introduced herself as an editor, but had to correct herself after I playfully jabbed her in the elbow. Dante couldn’t help but crack the all-star pick up line, ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’ Sascha did her best to be nice, but I could see her cringe. Harvey and Priya were both seated together at their desks, discussing their weekend when we showed up. They both hopped to attention when they saw me. Sascha rolled her eyes and I noticed it, but kept quiet. She was going to be a tough one to reign in.

  I introduced her to Oliver and Opal next, our resident editors. Oliver behaved himself well enough, but Opal sneered and made a few passive-aggressive comments towards Sascha after I introduced her. It wasn’t the first time Opal acted this way to a younger, more attractive female employee. When Opal was out of sight of both of us in the elevator, I expressed my apologies.

  "Sorry about Opal, she’s nice once you leave her direct sight," I said and Sascha giggled. I made a mental note to reprimand about her behavior later.

  Once we were both back in the main entrance, we walked side-by-side towards the desk.

  "As you already know, this will be your workspace. Get to know it." I turned towards her and outstretched my hand for a handshake. There was her firm grip again.

  "Thank you so much for today; I appreciate you showing me around and getting me familiar with the place." Sascha stepped backward.

  "You can have the rest of the afternoon off. Get a good night’s sleep." Sascha smiled, a nervous perk to her smile, and waved goodbye to me. As she left the building, I snuck a peek at her ass. It was plump and firm, even through that skirt. I bet it would make a great sound when I smacked it. I sighed and leaned against the desk, taking out my cell phone from my pocket. I located the numbers of both Ryland and Carson and dialed a three-way call. Ryland answered first.

  "Ian," Ryland remarked.

  "‘Hi’ is never your first option, is it?"

  "What do you want?" There was Ryland’s short temper.

  "Wait for Carson to get on the line first." With that, I heard the phone hang up. I sighed, but with another click, the other line connected, and I could hear Carsons’ voice come through.

  "Hello, Ian."

  "Hey, Carson. I’m going to put Ryland back on the line." Once both of them connected, I readied the excellent news. "I think I found your new assistant."

  "You think, or you know?" Ryland asked.

  "What’s she like?" Carson asked immediately after.

  "Well, she’s no-nonsense, shy, and looks like a model."

  "I don’t see how her looks have anything to do with her quality of work at the industry." Ryland scoffed.

  "You already know about her quality of work, you read her resume," I said, getting a little frustrated.

  "We’ll see how she fares as Ryland’s assistant first." Carson chuckled. Carson knew full well what kind of person Ryland was, and if Sascha could handle him, she could handle anything. "Is that all?"

  "That’s all," I answered, and heard someone hang up immediately afterward. "Carson, I’ll have all of her paperwork filed. She starts tomorrow.

  “Perfect,” Carson said and hung up the phone. I was the last to hang up. Sascha was cute, smart, and had an impressive resume. If she could master all of our different personalities, she was going to last a long time.

  Sascha

  The commute back to my home was filled with questions, worry, and disbelief. To say I was disappointed with the progression of the day didn’t even scratch to surface. The day would have been an absolute disaster if it wasn’t for Ian. Since it wasn’t a far walk to the bus stop from Calliope Publishing, I decided not to take my car to the interview. Traffic near the Las Vegas strip was ridiculous, and parking would cost an arm and a leg.

  Staring out the window as the bus drove on Dean Martin Dr, I saw the Shark Reef Aquarium, then the Luxor Hotel & Casino soon after. The sphinx statue stood tall against the hot, desert sun as if the city didn’t know it was November yet. Once the bus drove past the Bellagio Hotel, my eyes glazed over as they did in the elevator next to Ian. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating in that small, enclosed space. He smelled like cinnamon and mahogany. It was an earthy, welcoming and warm scent you could drift off too.

  Ian was strong-looking, with blue eyes so deep I could swim in them. It was difficult to see how muscular he actually was in his suit, but I could guess he went to the gym often. Not only was he gorgeous, but his personality was unique, and he impressed me with his sense of humor. I couldn’t help but notice he was staring at me often, but I returned the favor by glancing at him from time to time. His smile – oh, god, his smile. It had a goofy, almost child-like quality to it. I wondered if he was the class clown in high school, or maybe with that body, the quarterback?

  Coming back down to earth, I noticed that the bus was speeding across the Las Vegas Fairway, and was about to turn off into West Sahara Avenue, it wouldn’t take much time before I was home. With the roller coaster of emotions this day has put me through, I was excited to take my bike out, have dinner, and go to sleep.

  With what was left of my ride, my mind went to the other two bosses I was going to be an executive assistant to. Who were they, and what were they like? Ian had briefly talked about Carson, and my first impression of him is he doesn’t mess around. Didn’t Ian say that an editor would be fired in the next few months to make room for me? Seemed like a scary thought, but I knew I could handle anything. I didn’t take all that time to get my degree in English while pulling long shifts as an intern for nothing. That junior editor’s position was going to be mine, come hell or high water.

  Then, there was Ryland, which I knew next to nothing about. I knew more about Carson, and I wouldn’t
even be meeting him tomorrow. Ian said something about getting a lot of sleep because I’d be meeting Ryland. Was he going to be that exhausting? I could feel a hard lump in my throat. Maybe some research was in order. Ryland had to have a Facebook, and maybe Carson did as well. I might as well take a look at Ian’s for good measure.

  I pushed the button when I saw my spot appear on the LED lighted display at the front of the bus. I thanked the bus driver, collected my purse, and stepped out. There was still another 5-minute walk until I was home, but a little warm-up before cycling to get my blood flowing would suit me just fine. Opening the door, I immediately went up to my bedroom. I could feel the stress of the day hanging over my head, and when I threw open the door, I slammed my body onto the bed with such force, I bounced. Sighing heavily, I let my shoulders relax.

  "I missed you, bed. I’ll never leave you again," I said, smiling, nuzzling into my bedsheets. Sitting up on my elbows, I took out my phone from my purse that was still slung around my shoulder. It was time to do some research on my soon-to-be bosses.

  First, I decided to look up Ian Holders’ Facebook, and what I saw didn’t disappoint. There he was, big smile and all. He was ruggedly handsome, and appeared to be single. Each one of his profile photos was of him smiling, usually with a friend, or what I assumed were his parents. There weren’t any photos of him and another woman. Scrolling down the page, I noticed that he often talked about the score of the football game. Today though, his status was about how much he could bench press. Did he know I was going to look him up?

  Second, I decided to look up Ryland. I didn’t know his last name, but when I saw someone that could be him, I clicked immediately. Ryland Drummond was a tall, medium built man with lean muscle. He had a square jaw, the most beautiful auburn hair I’d ever seen and deep, grey eyes. Could it really be him? He looked really serious, and the reading glasses that sat on his face in some pictures made him look more executive-like. I couldn’t help but think how sexy he pulled off the chic nerd look. Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

  I looked through his Facebook more to try to learn more about him. Having something in common would make it easier to talk to him. I could already tell he liked to read books by the recommendations he wrote about in his status. Then, I looked at where he went to school, and I was shocked to see Harvard. I couldn’t contain my excitement. Not only was there one incredibly gorgeous, incredibly intelligent man that I worked for, but two? It seemed too good to be true.

  Looking up Carson provided very little on who he was personality-wise, but I did learn his full name: Carson Neil Werner. Despite him being the C.E.O. of the company, he had no personal Facebook profile; only a business page. There was no picture of him and no indication that he even existed on social media at all. All the external links that led to other social media focused purely on Calliope Publishing. There had to be more; surely, this man was more than just business.

  I went to Google and searched his name, and with a little bit of digging, I managed to find a newspaper article from a few years ago. It turned out that a Carson Werner was named as the summa-cum-laude of the business faculty at Harvard University. My jaw dropped, like Ryland, he had also been a student at Harvard. I wondered if they attended at the same time. Maybe that was where they met.

  Calculating Carsons’ age from the time the newspaper article was printed to the current year, I figured that he was 32, and since Calliope Publishing started around eight years ago, he must have thrown himself into building his company at the age of 24. I couldn’t believe it. Not only was he a summa-cum-laude, but he was also the young C.E.O. of a company? My lips curled up into a smile. A man like that probably had high expectations. High expectations I knew I could meet. Impressing men like them would spell good things for my future career as a writer and editor.

  I studied Carson, and although the picture of him was eight years old, I could see the dark hair and elegance the man exuded, even at such a young age. Carson was no doubt handsome, but I wondered if those looks held up over the years. If they did, I was really going to be in trouble. I wondered briefly what it would feel like to be picked up by the large, bulky arms of Ian. Or what Ryland would whisper to me in my ear after a long love-making session. To truly daydream about Carson, I would have to know him a little more.

  Snapping myself out of it, I got up to finish my nightly routine, and to get ready for the morning ahead of me. Meeting both bosses tomorrow meant leaving an interesting, and long-lasting impression. If I wanted to move up to the junior editors’ position, I needed to be smart, quick, and hardworking. My mind cycled through what I would say, how I would introduce myself, and how the next day would go. I felt a fear wash over me, and before I finally went to sleep, as the anticipation set in. Even if Ryland and Carson were intimidating, I could handle them.

  I could handle anything.

  Ryland

  Plenty of interns had come and gone at Calliope Publishing, and I was sure that Sascha was going to be one of them. From what Ian had told me, I wasn’t going to even pretend I was impressed. A guy like Ian focused on a woman’s more attractive qualities, which was excellent if you wanted to date them. Sascha was an assistant, nothing more. It was more important to me that she knew her way around a computer than if she was attractive. Though I had to admit, having a beautiful assistant was a fantasy of mine, but you’d never catch me saying that out loud.

  Carson and I were out in Philadelphia, trying to combine another publishing company when Ian called us.

  "You need to stop hanging up on Ian," Carson commented while collecting his bag from security. Every time Carson and I went through the airport, we fell victim to the "random” checks that involved a rather intensive pat-down. Carson found it hilarious, and I found it incredibly annoying. It was always because of Carson’s damn laptop. I knew he always has to work, but it wouldn’t hurt him to bring a book on-board and relax for five hours. I’d never admit how worried he made me when he walked into work with subtle bags under his eyes. He’d always look handsome, it was just how Carson was, but I still noticed the little ways his body showed he was tired.

  Even though he was my boss, he was also my friend. I needed to look out for him.

  "Ian needs to stop nattering on about things I don’t care about," I said sternly and Carson laughed.

  "You’re still angry about how the meeting went with the publisher, Ryland?’

  "How could you tell?" I growled. "And, oh joy, I get to sit in a tube with recycled air for five hours."

  "Relax, sour puss. With a tone like that, you’ll scare the ladies away." I let out a sigh and tried to distract myself by focusing on my surroundings. Philadelphia International Airport was full of long winding tunnels, cheap jewelry shops, and a quaint bookstore. It saved my life a few times when Carson and I had to run out the door to catch a flight that changed times. If it weren’t for my copy of "A Movable Feast" by Hemingway in my coat pocket, I might have used it today. My mind kept going back to the meeting even after I tried my best to focus on the convenience store with the fancy plastic water bottles.

  "I can’t believe he didn’t take the deal, Carson. It was the deal of a lifetime. Some businessmen wouldn’t see a great opportunity even if it slapped them in the face."

  "Yes, Ryland, but we don’t need to take it out on Ian."

  "How are you not angry? How are you never angry?"

  "So, you can do it for me." Carson chuckled. True, he was always the more level headed of the both of us. Even in Harvard he took everything with a cool head and dignified demeanor. We worked well together because he had the passion, and I had the calculation.

  "I’m the COO for a reason, and if Ian likes this Sascha, I can’t help but feel nervous about her. She’ll probably be late on her first day. It isn’t the first time that happened. Remember that journalist fresh off the plane from Europe? She had great references, almost as great as Sascha’s, but she turned out to be another floozy sleeping her way to the top."
<
br />   "I wouldn’t count her out before you’ve met her," Carson said, as we lined up for business class. "I for one am impressed with her resume."

  "I’m impressed as well." I handed the stewardess my ID and ticket, Carson did the same. We started walking towards the plane side-by-side. "With so many interns coming and going, it’s hard to tell a person’s merit based on a sheet of paper. I’ll make sure to test her myself tomorrow."

  * * *

  Calliope felt like a second home to me, and as I walked down the halls after a week’s absence, there wasn’t a thing out of place. Well, there was one. A beautiful young woman who I assumed was Sascha was already sitting at the front desk, typing at the computer. My shock almost appeared on my face as I thought she would have been tardy. As I approached Sascha, her eyes darted towards mine, and she stood up, fixing her skirt in the process. I assumed she already knew who I was. She circled around the desk to stand in front of me.

  "You must be Sascha," I said, curtly. My hand was out to accept a handshake.

  "Yes, I’m Sascha, and you must be Ryland?" She took her hand in mine, and I smirked.

  Unless Ian had shown her pictures, there was no way for her to know who I was. She must have done some digging. That impressed me, but if research skills were all she had to offer, she wouldn’t last long.

  "Ryland Drummond, chief operations officer. From now on, you’ll refer to me as ‘Mr. Drummond." Sascha’s face went flushed from embarrassment. The red on her cheeks complemented the shape of her lips.

  "My apologies, Mr. Drummond." I noticed that she was dressed well, and that sharp pencil skirt complimented her figure. Sascha looked small and tight, with a flat stomach that likely meant she worked out. She was pretty, but was she smart? I ignored her apology; there was a lot of work to do.