by Ava Storm
“Yes?” I pressed, a shade of impatience in my voice. I needed someone decisive. Someone with initiative. If Paige couldn’t even decide whether or not she wanted the job…
Just then, something seemed to firm up in her. She sat up straighter. She lifted her chin and looked me in the eye. “You should know that Collins was my married name. I go by Stafford now.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, making a mental note to process that later. “Welcome aboard, Miss Stafford.”
9
Paige
I was in a trance-like state as I shook hands with Ford and left his office. The receptionist, Mrs. Winthrop, directed me down to the tenth floor where their HR office was located. Every step of the way, I waited to be caught. Surely the real Miss Collins had shown up. Any minute now someone would burst into the HR office where I was signing the offer letter and call out my fraud.
I also expected the salary to be a mistake. It was twice what I’d made at my last job. With that kind of money, Madelyn and I could get a two-bedroom apartment. We could be closer to Shelly and Amanda. I could afford daycare. And I wouldn’t have to tell Ford that he had a daughter. The HR representative, Ben, took me on a tour of the building and there was a daycare on the first floor for children of employees. The cost was less than I had been paying a home daycare provider.
“And they are very accommodating of employee hours,” Ben said confidentially when I hesitated. “The hours are seven am to six pm, but there is an afterhours provider as well for when things come up.”
“Do you know when I’ll get my first paycheck?” I asked, a little embarrassed.
Ben didn’t even blink. “Two weeks after your start date.”
I did the math. If I put the daycare tuition on my credit card, my first paycheck would cover my rent. I could pay it off with my next paycheck though. I filled out the enrollment paperwork with a shaky hand. It was all becoming real. I had signed the offer letter. I had signed the contract. I was enrolling Madelyn. No one was bursting in to stop me.
I left with a glossy folder that Ben told me had all the information I needed to finish setting up my health benefits and tax information. I was still holding it when I knocked on Amanda’s door.
Amanda opened it so quickly I suspected she’d been waiting beside it.
“Well?” Amanda demanded. She spotted the folder and grabbed it. “Did you already get a contract signed? He is quick. What did you get? Is it contingent on a DNA test?” She flipped through the documents. “Is he putting you on his health insurance?”
“No,” I said. My voice sounded strange to my own ears. “Where’s Madelyn?”
“Fast asleep, cuddled up with Shelly’s stupid lid.” Amanda frowned. “Ninety thousand dollars, Paige? I know that seems like a lot right now but think about how that breaks down into eighteen years. It comes to like a couple hundred a month. That barely feeds Madelyn. You didn’t sign this did you?”
“It’s not a payoff, Amanda. It’s a job.”
“He’s making you work for child support?” Amanda’s head snapped up. “No. Nope. I should have gone with you.”
“No, I didn’t even tell him about Madelyn. I got there and they thought I was there to interview for his executive assistant position.” I spread my hands helplessly. “I tried to tell him a couple of times, but then he mentioned that it paid well, and the benefits, and I, well I took the job.”
We stared at each other in silence for a moment. Amanda’s lips twitched once or twice, like she was waiting for the joke. When it never came, her face sobered. “You can’t work under someone else’s name, Paige. That’s illegal.”
“I’m not. Look.” I pointed to my name on the contract. “And it’s my social security number in the tax information. I told him that the other name was my married name.”
“So he thinks you’re married?”
“No, he thinks I’m divorced.” I didn’t tell Amanda what I’d noticed—that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring either.
“Wow. You’ve been busy these last two years, haven’t you?”
“We didn’t talk about it. We’re going to be strictly professional.”
Now Amanda did laugh. “Oh my God. What have you gotten yourself into?”
I laughed, too, the absurdity of the situation hitting me. “I don’t know! A job that pays really well?”
“Let’s hope that’s all it is.” Even though it was only eleven am, Amanda went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of champagne. “I got this to celebrate your multimillion-dollar payoff, but I guess a good job is also something to celebrate.”
“It’s better,” I said fervently. “Now he never has to know about Madelyn, and I don’t have to worry about him trying to take her from me.” I pulled down two champagne flutes, shook my head at the orange juice Amanda offered, and poured us two tall, foaming glasses.
“I shouldn’t,” Amanda said, doing so anyway.
“I shouldn’t either,” I said. “But I’m going to.”
We clinked rims.
10
Ford
I tried not to watch Paige leave, but it was hard. Her dress wasn’t sexy, but she was no matter what she wore. I wondered if that was going to be a problem. I wouldn’t let it be, I decided. I didn’t have time for problems. I was too busy to remember how she looked standing against the wall of windows, how her skin tasted.
With effort, I redirected my thoughts. So, she’d married the fiancé after all, and it hadn’t worked out. What had her friends called him? Aaron the Asshole? Something like that. I wondered how quickly she’d reconciled with the asshole. It must have been pretty quickly after our night together. A strange bolt of jealousy shot through me at the thought.
Irritably, I shoved away from my desk and went to find Griffin.
“We need to fix the bugs in the fucking platform,” I said, walking into his office.
Griffin raised one eyebrow. “Right now? This second?”
“No, I want to wait until next year and let some pissant start-up do it first and better.” I threw myself into one of the leather chairs around the conference table. “Yes now.”
“Great,” Griffin steepled his fingers. “Do you want the two of us to roll up our sleeves and bang it out now, or should we get our CTO and, I don’t know, some of the people who have been working on the platform for months involved?”
“If they’ve been working for months, why is it still a fucking problem?” I growled.
Griffin waited.
“I hired a new executive assistant,” I said finally, letting my head roll back.
“That explains it.”
“It’s the girl from the Cherington.”
It took Griffin a second. “The brunette?”
“That’s the one.”
Griffin grinned. “That was a dumb-as-shit idea.”
“I know.” I rubbed my eyes.
“Why’d you do it?”
I shook my head slowly. “That’s the weird part. I have no idea. She had a great resume and great recommendations--she used to work for Stan Martin--but when I saw it was her, I thought I’d go through the motions and then hire someone else.”
“Sounds like a better idea,” Griffin said. “Why didn’t you do that? Did she blow the interview out of the water or something?”
“Not really. I barely interviewed her.”
“Did she blow—”
“No,” I said, shutting Griffin down with a black look. “I’d never get involved with an employee. In fact, I told her that.”
“Sure, standard interview small talk. How fast can you type? Don’t plan on us fucking.” Griffin was laughing now. “Have you told Kai and Jameson?”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t tell Jameson actually,” Griffin advised. “He’ll try to use her to get back to the blonde.”
“Will do. Nothing ever happened with you and the redhead?”
“No. She was cute, but I don’t mess with lawyers.”
I blew out my
breath. “Good. That’ll make it less complicated.”
“No, it won’t,” Griffin said, laughing again. “You’ve really screwed yourself, Ford. Even if you didn’t have carnal knowledge of her—”
“Don’t ever say ‘carnal knowledge’ again.”
“—she’d still be in violation of the number one rule of executive assistants.”
I frowned.
“Never hire a hot one.”
“Shit.” I sighed. “Maybe I should rescind the offer.” But then I remembered the light that had jumped into her eyes when she saw the salary, and I knew I wouldn’t. “Or maybe I can trade her.”
Griffin leered. “Great idea. I’ll take the sweet little brunette. You can have that dragon Kai foisted on me after the Melanie Greenwell debacle.”
My gaze snapped up, and Griffin looked taken aback by the violence in it. Then he looked entertained. “Yeah,” he said as though he were warming to the idea. “She’d probably like me better anyway. I don’t have as many rules as you do.”
“Griff, you’re going to want to shut the fuck up,” I warned.
“For instance, I’d happily get involved with the right employee. Provided she blew—”
I stood up.
“—the interview out of the water.” Laughing, Griffin pushed back from his desk and stood up, too, holding his hands out defensively. “I’m just messing with you, man. Calm down. No one’s going to touch your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my fucking girlfriend.”
“I meant executive assistant,” Griffin snapped his fingers. “You know how I’m always mixing those two up.”
I left, giving him the finger on my way out.
11
Paige
I used the week I had before my official start date to soak up precious time with Madelyn. I’d been so worried about money that I hadn’t been able to enjoy the last three months. Now we went to all of our favorite places--most of them were free anyway, but for once I didn’t plan our route around not going anywhere near gift shops or toy stores.
The week passed too quickly. I woke up very early on Monday morning feeling both exhilarated and nauseous. This was really happening. Even as I bought Madelyn stuffed animals from the Wild Things gift shop at the Lincoln Zoo, I’d fully expected this whole fantasy to end with a phone call that said, “Don’t bother coming in. The real Miss Collins showed up.”
Though I didn’t have to be up for an hour, I rolled out of bed anyway. I’d set my alarm early enough that I’d be at the office twenty minutes before my official start time, but it wouldn’t hurt to be earlier. And who knew how long it would take Madelyn to feel comfortable at her new daycare?
After I’d showered and dried my hair, I dressed in one of the outfits that Shelly helped me pick out. Like the sheath dress, the blue dress with the matching coat was what Shelly called ‘business classy.’ Now, I twisted and turned in front of the mirror, trying to recapture that feeling. The problem was, I hadn’t been scared to death and white as a sheet when I tried it on in the store.
I took a deep breath and forced my reflection to smile. “You can do this,” I told the woman in the mirror encouragingly. “It might be awkward for the first week, but like he said, you’re both adults. And if the real Miss Collins was going to stand up, she would have done it by now.”
I wasn’t worried about the job itself. A description of responsibilities had been attached to the paperwork, and it all looked like things I had done at my last job for half as much money. In fact, focusing on it helped me push away my anxiety about working with Ford. I may have gotten the job in an underhanded way, but I’d never let him regret it. I would be the best executive assistant he’d ever had. I felt the same rush of optimism and determination that had buoyed me when I’d decided to raise Madelyn on my own. Sure, my daughter was a budding kleptomaniac who carted around Shelly’s silicone lid like a lion protecting its kill, but I was pretty sure she would grow out of it one day.
And if not, I could now afford a great child psychologist.
At six, I got Madelyn up and got her dressed in one of the new outfits I had bought while on my shopping spree. She kept pulling her sock off – her new favorite trick – but I wrangle it from her, put it on, and quickly shoved her feet in her shoes before she could reach down to yank it off again.
Madelyn scowled.
For a minute, my heart flipped. That scowl was so familiar. I’d seen it just last week when I walked into Ford’s office. Madelyn’s was smaller and cuter, bookended by round, ruddy cheeks, but it was no less fierce. God, I was going to have to make sure Ford never saw her. What if he recognized himself?
A quick bus ride later, and we were at the building. Madelyn tipped her head all the way back and looked agog. She looked at me questioningly, like she was wondering: Are you sure we’re supposed to be here?
I nodded firmly. “This is it.”
Uncharacteristically cowed, Madelyn let me hold her hand all the way through the lobby, and she stood still while I signed her in and handed over her vaccination records to the young woman behind the counter.
“She’s going to love it here,” the girl said, coming around the partition to take Madelyn’s hand. When Madelyn yanked it away, she knelt down in front of her. “I’m Miss Emily. Can I show you our toy room?”
Madelyn clutched her silicone stretch lid nervously and shook her head.
I glanced down at my watch. I had plenty of time. “Do you need me to come in with you, honey?” I asked Madelyn.
Madelyn considered it. Then she shook her head and took Emily’s hand.
“Independent girl,” Emily said approvingly. She smiled at me kindly. “Do you want to come in?”
I bit my lip. I did want to come in. I wanted to hold Madelyn’s hand and show her everything and reassure her that mommy would be back at lunch. But Madelyn had already caught a glimpse of the magic within and didn’t need me. With effort, I shook my head and let them walk away without me.
I got a little teary watching how easily Madelyn wandered off without me, but I swallowed them down in the elevator to the eighteenth floor. I’d vowed to be the best executive assistant Ford had ever had, and I had a feeling that crying on my first day wouldn’t impress him.
12
Ford
I had gotten to the office at five to conference call with London at eleven. I liked having the usually bustling floor to myself in the morning. I was a pacer, and when I was working out a particularly knotty problem, I’d grab my coffee and walk the long length of windows, watching the sunrise over Lake Michigan.
The problem this morning wasn’t the deal. Kai had been right to push them to do it. The problem was the people we were working with were assholes. I knew that I was no prince, but at least I was straightforward. Glenn in London must have thought his British accent disguised the bullshit he was serving me on a silver-plated platter. My fingers tightened on my coffee cup. Kai would take the brunt of this. Not because we would tell him he had to, but because he was the only one with the finesse to do it. I would call Glenn out, Griffin would call him choice words, and Jameson would call it all off.
Across the office, I heard the elevator ding in the lobby. I checked my watch. Seven-fifteen am. A little early even for Mrs. Winthrop. I turned to see what enterprising intern had decided to make a name for themselves and was surprised to see Paige standing at the line between the well-lit lobby and the still dim office. Shit, I’d forgotten that she started today.
She looked nervous, like she wasn’t sure she should be here. I wasn’t sure either. Especially in a fitted blue dress that, like the one she’d worn to the interview wasn’t sexy in itself, but paired with her curves, it was hard to think of anything else. Think of something else, goddamnit, I warned myself.
“Good morning,” I said, startling her.
She turned toward me and squinted against the bright morning light streaming in behind me. “Good morning, Ford.”
“Mr. Cavanaugh,” I cor
rected. This wasn’t a good start. I couldn’t have my name in her mouth. It would remind me too much of the night in which she called it over and over.
“Mr. Cavanaugh,” she repeated dutifully. She looked up at the darkened light banks of the ceiling. “Is this some sort of energy saving program? Blackout Monday?”
She sounded perfectly serious. My mouth twitched. “No. All of our lights are hooked to solar and water power. You’ve seen the waterfall in the lobby, haven’t you?” She couldn’t have missed it. It flowed down three floors, a gradual granite slope that burbled and churned all day and night.
“Yes, it’s beautiful.”
“It’s also functional.” As I hoped my new executive assistant would be. We stared across the room at one another. I checked my watch again. Another twelve minutes before Mrs. Winthrop arrived to get her set up. What the hell was I going to do with her?
“Come on,” I said abruptly. “I’ll show you around the office.”
I showed her to her desk first. It was part of a cluster of three near the windows.
“I thought I’d be closer to your office,” she said, slipping out of her jacket and hanging her purse.
I didn’t respond. Maybe Stan Martin could focus with her just out of reach, but I had a company to run. Next, I took her to the kitchenette that had three types of coffee makers and several cupboards of snacks. “It’s all free,” I said when I saw her looking around, brow furrowed.
Paige walked over to one of the coffee makers. “This looks like it requires a culinary degree.”
“It might,” I admitted. “Mrs. Winthrop can show you how it works.”
She moved to the next one—a basic Mr. Coffee with a yellowing glass pot no one had ever thoroughly cleaned. She laughed a little. “This one looks like it needs last rites. But this one—” she moved to the Keurig “—is just right.”
