by Alana Jade
“Georgia. Glad to see you made it in one piece. Hope everyone was friendly and helpful? I pride myself on having pleasant staff. Come on in and close the door, please.” I want to roll my eyes while laughing, he obviously hasn’t seen the other side of Isabel. My answer is a short smirk, but in my head, I’m telling him he has no damn idea.
As I walk into his large, rather fancy office, I close the solid wood door behind me. His office is completely different than the rest of the building. There are pops of color on the walls, but with the same expensive-looking furniture as the rest of the office space. Not at all how I remember the offices when my dad had the company.
There is a small clothes rack in one corner with a black suit hanging in a clear bag from the rail. The words ‘Armani’ are written across the bottom. A reusable bag sits underneath. A plush couch with matching cushions is not far from Adam’s desk with a small glass coffee table in front of it. What looks like a mini kitchen is behind, or maybe it’s a refrigerator with a sink. Next to that is an open door leading to a darkened room.
As I sit in a chair in front of his desk and try to look professional, which is hard when you look like this, I cross my leg over my knee.
“So, we have a little bit to go through,” he says, patting a folder on his desk.
My eyes must widen as I eye off the huge binder.
He snickers at me. “It’s all routine, it won’t take long. I promise. But first, I have some food, and I thought you might like to freshen up? I’ve had some clothes brought up for you. I guessed sizing, though. So, if it doesn’t fit, let me know. Isabel can go fetch something else for you.”
I panic. I must smell terrible if he’s offering a shower first up. I did a quick sniff test before I left the car, and I didn’t think I smelled that bad. Luckily, I had a roll-on plus spray deodorant in my car to keep the body odor at bay, but it’s not easy at this time of year. Thank God, it’s not the middle of summer. I won’t turn down the food, though. I never knew a ham and cheese croissant could look so good. Bubbles of excitement surge through my veins at the thought of the croissant hitting my stomach.
“I’d definitely love a shower. You didn’t have to go to all of this trouble for me, Adam. You have no idea how much I appreciate it, though. So, thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure. I know your dad would’ve wanted me to help you. It’s the least I can do. Your dad helped me so much. Anyway, you may use my private bathroom.”
“As long as you don’t mind,” I mutter.
Of course, he’s only helping me because of my connection to Dad. Maybe he feels like he owes it to me or something. I don’t know why I have this feeling of disappointment right now. Maybe I thought he’s helping me, for me, not for my father, and that stings a little.
“Not at all,” he answers, as his cell dings. “Take as long as you need. I’ve got several phone calls to make. There’s body wash as well as hair products in there for you to use, plus a hairdryer and spare toothbrushes in the top drawer. I’ve left two towels for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as I stand, wanting to add more to my sentence but deciding against it.
“It’s my pleasure.”
“No, thank you for being in the right place at the right time. I don’t think I could have coped for another day living out of my car.”
He nods as he smiles before turning his attention to his cell, scruffing at his barely-there beard. I take it as the end of the conversation, grab a croissant before making my way over to the clothes rack. Picking up the bag of clothes, I head into the bathroom before closing the door.
Flicking the light switch on, I place the clothes on the small bench on the inside of the door and spin around taking in this glorious bathroom. Beautiful muted gray tiles line the floor and walls. There’s a large vanity with a mirror to one side and a massive shower with a built-in seat on the far wall. Even the toilet looks fancy.
I spend a good fifteen minutes showering, washing my hair and conditioning it while stepping out from the shower every so often to have bites of the croissant. The water pummeling my skin feels so good removing what feels like layers of filth off my body.
The clothes fit perfectly. Black wide-legged pants with a white T-shirt. Nothing fancy, but it’s nice to wear clean clothes. After brushing my teeth, I dry my long, golden blonde hair, letting my natural curls fall over my shoulders and most of the way down my back. I don’t have the heart to cut it. My dad loved my hair really long—my mom threatened more than once to cut it off in my sleep. But she never did it.
I normally wear my hair in a ponytail or high on my head in a messy bun, but given I’m in a business environment, it makes me think my hair out is more appropriate. I apply some lip gloss I found in my purse and make a mental note to buy some basic makeup once I get paid.
I’m tempted to throw my clothes in the garbage bin, but instead, I bundle them up, shoving them into the bag. Surely there’s a laundromat or something nearby to wash my things, but it will have to wait until I have some money. I’m happy I grabbed enough clean underwear to last me a couple of weeks, even if they are not the sexiest style.
As I unlock the door, I take one last look in the mirror, deeming myself to look satisfactory. Even though I’m dressed casually, it’s a lot better than the stained old pink T-shirt and jeans I have been living in.
Stepping into Adam’s office, I notice he’s on a call.
“Um… Brian, let me call you back…” He pauses, a coy look on his face. “Yep, an hour tops.” He hangs up the phone. “Wow! You look… great.”
I don’t respond, knowing anything I might say may embarrass me, but I can’t help but feel the warmth spread across my face and body. Damn you, body, for getting embarrassed at the drop of a hat.
“Please, sit. We’ll sort through the rest of your employment details now.”
This is the part I’m dreading, the part where he finds out exactly how destitute I am. Maybe this will be the point in which he changes his mind about helping me? In all honesty, I wouldn’t blame him at all. Who’d want this burden working for them?
Adam
When Georgia steps out of my bathroom, she’s picture-perfect. I know I shouldn’t be thinking like this. She’s Ed’s daughter and soon to be my personal assistant. But I do appreciate natural beauty when I see it.
After an hour and several cups of coffee, we finally get to the end of the paperwork for Georgia’s employment. It didn’t take long to fill everything considering she has no fixed address, she has no references, and not much of anything else. But still, it’s nice to catch up with her. She declines my offer of a new cell, insisting she will save for one, even though I tell her it’s a work requirement. She does take my offer on the loan of a charger so that at least will help her with her phone issue.
My brain starts ticking over, thinking about where she can live for the time being. She’s more than welcome to stay in my office, but I’m not sure it’s the best solution. It could tarnish both of our reputations, plus it’s really not comfortable. I can easily put her up at a hotel, but I know she’ll turn the offer down. From what I can gather, she doesn’t like accepting help.
“Thank you for your time today, Adam,” she sweetly says.
Perhaps she is uncomfortable around me or being in this office, which would be fair enough, given her father used to sit in this exact chair many years ago.
I notice she’s looking at the wall behind me. I twist to see what she’s fixated on. Of course, it’s the picture I have of her father I have proudly hanging on my wall.
“Is everything all right?” I ask, concerned.
“Everything is wonderful.”
“He was an incredible man, Georgia,” I offer.
She nods, changing topics. “Again, thank you so much for your generosity.”
“Georgia, you don’t need to keep thanking me. It’s my pleasure. You’re doing me a huge favor.”
She nods and directs her eyes at her hands in her lap.
“What�
�s bothering you?” I curtly say, almost demanding of her. One thing that bothers me is when people don’t say what’s on their mind.
“I’m worried… I don’t have anywhere to stay tonight. I’m hoping to be able to crash on the couch here, or I’ll even sleep in my car if I can keep it parked in the parking garage.”
“Yes, sorry. I have thought about your accommodation situation. Tell me what you think of this idea… but there’s no pressure at all.”
“Um… okay?” she answers curiously.
“How would you feel about coming to live with me?” She looks at me aghast, to which I laugh before I try again. “Ah… that came out all kinds of wrong. Let me explain... I live in a large house on a big property. I have remodeled a guesthouse on the property and was looking at leasing it out.”
“Really?” she questions. Her voice goes up at the end of the word, making me think she’s checking to see whether I’m doing this out of sympathy or not.
“I was thinking… until you get yourself back on your feet, you could stay in the guesthouse. Rent-free for two months. By then, I’m sure you’ll be back on your feet and not wanting to live on your boss’ property anymore.” I chuckle at the end.
She lets out a laugh, but it turns into a bit of a snort. The smile on her face lights up the room, and I can tell she’s excited by the prospect.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“Yes, of course. It’s sitting there empty. It’s fully fitted out with a bed, sofa, television, pots and pans, everything you’ll need. You’ll have to purchase your own groceries, of course. There’s a shopping center not far away for all of that. I only ask you keep it neat and tidy, no loud or out-there parties, and, of course, taking my six big dogs for a walk a couple of times a week… all at the same time.”
“Six big dogs?” she stutters with a worried look in her eyes. “I’ve never owned a dog. Perhaps if I take just one—”
I cut her off before she continues, stifling a laugh, “Only kidding! I don’t have dogs.”
She giggles. “Well, in that case, it all sounds amazing. Thank you.”
“Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” Surely, she will want to know details about the house.
“Can I ask just the one thing?” she mumbles with hope fluttering in her eyes.
“Sure, fire away,” I reply as I make notes on my notepad.
“Why are you helping me? You’ve given me a job, a place to live. You’ve basically taken me off the streets.” The look in her eyes lets me know she truly appreciates everything I am doing. She’s close to tears. I can see them brimming on her bottom eyelid.
I look at her, and my heart pangs. “I was once in your position. Not homeless, but down and out. I know what it’s like to have nothing. Someone helped me get back on my feet, now I’m in a position to pay it forward.”
“Was that Dad?”
I sadly nod. I’ll tell her the full story one day. Her dad was an amazing man. “Anyway…” I start clearing my throat. “You don’t need to thank me, Georgia. Do the best job you can. That’s all I ask. We can talk about you continuing your college courses once things settle down. You’ll get hands-on experience here, too.”
“That sounds fabulous.” She grins.
“Good. One more thing…” She nods. “Make sure no one here finds out about you staying with me. It would look unprofessional. People may get the wrong idea. It shouldn’t matter, but it could cause issues.”
“Of course. I won’t say a thing. You can trust me. You’ve gone out of your way to help me, and I won’t let you down.”
“Great. Here’s the address,” he says ripping the paper from the notepad. “I’ll text my housekeeper to give the key for the guesthouse to the front gate. So, give them your name and license when you arrive, then they will direct you. We finish at the office at around five normally, but please feel free to leave a little earlier today to go get yourself set up.”
“This is unbelievable. I owe you… at lot,” she gushes. Before I can say anything, she’s out of her chair and around the desk hugging me.
At first, I’m shocked, but then I relax, hugging her back. A beam spreads across my face. I can’t help but smell my woodsy shampoo in her hair. Somehow, it smells ten times better on her than it ever does on me.
“I’m going to go to my desk, get acquainted with where everything is. If I have any questions, who should I ask?”
“Isabel, if she’s available, but she tries to make herself look busy. That girl likes to flutter as well as accompany Zac, my second-in-charge, to appointments even though she isn’t required. Otherwise, feel free to leave the door open. You can ask me.”
She grins as she almost skips out the door of my office, leaving the door open as she passes through. Her desk is literally right outside my door. I can see her perfectly from my seat.
I can’t help but watch as she putters around, moving pencil and pen trays and shuffling papers while whistling to herself as she reads the telephone manual.
She catches me several times staring at her. The first two times, I quickly avert my eyes, but the third time, she pops her head in the office asking if I think she’s doing a good enough job, to which I reply, “Of course.”
Before I know it, it’s time to start thinking of lunch. While ordering food for my office would be her job, I decide to do it for Georgia today to surprise her.
Less than half an hour later, I see the delivery guy walking up to her desk and watch as she tries to handle the situation. Georgia’s a little shocked at first but quickly puts on a professional face. Within a minute, my desktop phone is ringing with an internal page. The extension is Georgia’s.
“Hello?” I answer, making out I don’t know who it is. Little does she know, I generally answer the intercom with a stern, yes.
“Mr. Cunningham, there’s a delivery for you. Shall I send him in?”
“Yes.” I hang up the handset, impressed by her professionalism.
Georgia shows the delivery guy into my office, and he places the large bag of food on my desk.
After he leaves, I say to Georgia, “Not all of this is for me. Please, join me for lunch?”
“That’s so kind of you.” She sits at my desk as I pull out the different meals I’ve ordered.
Georgia seems hesitant to choose a meal.
“Please, help yourself. There’s a chicken meal which I can highly recommend or there’s a noodle dish, which I can also highly recommend.” I laugh.
“I’ll take the chicken if that’s all right,” she answers, reaching for the container.
We’ve only had a couple of mouthfuls before a knock on my door startles us both. Looking up, I see my second-in-charge, Zac, standing there with a goofy look on his face.
“Who do we have here?” he asks.
“Zac, this is Georgia. Georgia, this is the second-in-charge of the company, Zac June,” I introduce them.
The way Zac’s looking at her creeps me out. While I have made a point not to bed as many women as I can, Zac’s approach is the complete opposite. He shares a bed with a new girl every night of the week according to him.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. June.” She directs her attention back to me. “Thank you for lunch. I’ll eat the rest at my desk.”
Georgia makes a hasty retreat to her desk and closes the door. I have to admit I feel unhappy she’s been chased away.
I shake the thought from my head as quickly as it appeared.
It won’t happen.
It can’t happen.
Zac walks in, flopping down into one of my chairs.
“Was she the train wreck who Isabel showed in here earlier? She cleaned up nicely.”
“Show a bit of respect. She’s Ed’s daughter,” I grind out, clenching my teeth until my jaw begins to ache.
Zac’s been on my last nerve for the last few months. His womanizing ways have spread to the office, which is completely against our rules. It was widely known he was seeing my old PA, and most wouldn�
�t be surprised if he’s the father of her baby. I couldn’t help but overhear the office gossips talking about it.
Zac’s not putting in as much effort to the job as he used to. It’s causing a lot of concern amongst the board of directors. He was warned at the last board meeting, if he puts one foot out of place, he’ll be gone.
I see Zac roll his eyes. “Good time for our weekly meeting?” Zac asks.
Ah, crap. I’d forgotten, and with Georgia being new, I guess it got past her too. He’s the last person I want in my office right now. Damn!
As I shovel food into my mouth, I find myself processing what’s happened today.
Never in a million years did I think I’d randomly run into Georgia Gellar, let alone have her be my new PA and coming to live on my property. There’s something about this girl that’s giving me mixed feelings, but I repeat over in my head, I’m only helping her because of her father.
I simply can’t have feelings for her.
Georgia
Adam is way too good to be true. I knew there are guys out there like him, but I have never met one before. Blaze, my ex-boyfriend, wasn’t like that at all. A chill runs down my spine as I think of him. He used to boss me around, belittle me in front of his friends, and well, he’d been harboring a secret need too. But Adam doesn’t appear to be anything like Blaze.
Not that I should be comparing the ex-boyfriend and the boss.
What am I thinking?
I appreciate all of Adam’s help. He’s gotten me out of such a bad situation. I will be the best personal assistant he’s ever had.
Don’t flirt with the boss.
Be a good PA.
That’s all you have to do.
My brain is completely overloaded with information. I try to cram as much as I can into my first day, so I’ll be a lot more efficient tomorrow. Although, all it’s done is give me a headache. The girl before me obviously didn’t know what a filing cabinet was as all the files were in alphabetical order but sitting in piles on the desk. It’s taken me the majority of the day to get them sorted. She did have a lovely collection of condoms and pregnancy tests, which I’ve promptly thrown in the trash.
