But it had been true. And Cora had dressed in her best skirt and blouse the next day to start as personal assistant to the CEO of JB Enterprises.
Except now, several weeks into her training, Cora wondered if she really should’ve been offered the job. Trisha spoke to various vice presidents of different departments as if she was on par with them. And she seemed quite knowledgeable about all of their internal discussions.
Cora sat quietly behind Trisha’s own respectably large desk as she watched the woman work. Trisha was constantly moving. Cora felt a little uneasy and useless as she tried to absorb everything around her.
But while she watched Trisha take a call from yet another vice president, the other secondary phone on her desk rang. Cora put her hand over the receiver, giving Trisha a questioning expression. Trisha nodded her permission and Cora answered the phone.
“Mr. Benedict’s office. This is Cora speaking. How may I help you?” Cora asked, using her best smooth office speaking voice.
“Cora? Who’s Cora? Where’s Trisha?” a gruff male voice asked.
This didn’t sound like any VP. He sounded grizzled and rough-edged. “Trisha is unavailable at the moment. But I can assist you. May I ask who’s calling?” Cora asked.
“Well, this is Paulson. I’m calling to give my week’s report.”
“Paulson? Is that your first or last—”
“Paulson? Is that Paulson on the line?” Trisha asked suddenly, holding her own phone down by her shoulder.
Cora nodded, surprised by Trisha’s sudden alertness. Immediately, Trisha excused herself from the vice president of one of India’s largest tech companies and took over Cora’s phone.
“Paulson?” she answered. Trisha immediately got out a notepad and began taking quick notes, nodding as she listened to whatever this Paulson had to say. “Fine. That’s fine. I’ll send this to Mr. Benedict right away. If he has any questions, he’ll reach you.”
Trisha ripped out her notes before Cora could sneak a look and headed towards Julian Benedict’s office. Turning around, Trisha said softly, “If you get any calls from a Paulson or Montgomery, immediately hand them to me. Until directed by Mr. Benedict, those calls are strictly only my responsibility.”
Cora nodded a little dumbly as she watched Trisha disappear into the large office. Who the heck were Paulson and Montgomery? And why did they rank so high in Trisha’s priorities? She had practically hung up on the India VP to speak with this Paulson.
Looking at the closed double doors of Julian Benedict’s office, Cora felt a little bit of envy at Trisha’s obvious close relationship with the CEO.
Mr. Grayson was a sixty-four year old man who had grown up in the rural parts of Ohio. Even with his wealth and worldly opportunities, there was still a tinge of country ignorance and even racism that tinged the way Mr. Grayson spoke.
But not with Julian Benedict. From the moment she had stepped into his office, her heart hadn’t stopped thumping against her ribs.
At well over six feet, the man had a commanding presence that oozed a sense of confidence and power. With a face that was both rugged yet refined, it was no wonder Forbes magazine had dubbed him the “Model Millionaire.”
Cora shuddered as she remembered how his eyes had cut right through her, as if he had been able to see straight into her beating heart. When she had thought she had blown the interview, Cora had actually felt a tiny bit relieved. How could any sane, red-blooded woman work under such a man without constantly drooling?
Yet Cora remembered all the nights her mom had flirted for a few extra pesos or for even just another bottle of beer. She remembered how low her mom had stooped so she could find herself a hot meal. That tin shack made everything echo and the sounds of a man grunting echoed loudest.
No, she couldn’t let herself be distracted by a handsome face. Security, stability—that’s why she made that dangerous crossing. That’s why she moved to New York. That’s why she applied at JB Enterprises. She couldn’t let herself lose focus.
Suddenly, Julian stepped out of his office with Trisha fast behind him.
“Mr. Adnan has called to confirm the lunch and the driver is ready downstairs,” Trisha said, looking down at her smartphone to confirm the details.
Julian nodded as he buttoned up his suit. Cora had never known a man could look so lethal in a suit. Julian didn’t seem to even notice her as he walked right passed her towards the elevator. Cora sighed, feeling both relief and regret, when Julian suddenly turned on his heel and rapped his knuckles on Trisha’s desk.
Cora snapped her head up.
“I’d like you to go home early today and pack. A driver will come pick you up from your place at four,” he said, his voice solid and brooking no argument.
“Pack?” Cora echoed, feeling confused. “Where am I going?”
Julian’s dark eyes glimmered with a teasing light even though his face remained placid. “Paris.”
“Paris! I can’t go to Paris!” Cora cried out. How could she suddenly just up and go to Paris?
Julian’s brows knitted together in vague bewilderment. “Do you not have a valid passport?” he asked.
“No, of course I do,” Cora quickly replied. Of course she did. That’s the first document you forge after coming across the border.
Julian’s face cleared as he nodded. “Good. I’m meeting with some of the European heads tomorrow and I’ll need an assistant.”
Cora could hardly keep her jaw from dropping open. “Bu-but I haven’t quite yet learned….I mean, wouldn’t Trisha be—”
“Trisha needs to stay here so there will be balance and order in the office.” Julian threw his trusted assistant a wry look. Trisha merely gave a soft smile. “You’ll come with me and learn along the way. After all,” he said, giving Cora a dark teasing look that nearly made her heart stop, “didn’t you tell me you had much to offer JB Enterprises?”
Cora remembered what she had said during her interview. But this was all so sudden. She felt like someone had picked her up and tossed her into the deep end of a pool, expecting her to expertly backstroke her way to safety. She couldn’t believe she would not only be leaving the country but doing it alone with Julian Benedict.
“So, leave early and pack. Don’t forget your passport,” Julian said as he briskly headed towards the elevator before Cora could say anything more.
Paris. City of Lights.
With Julian Benedict. The Model Millionaire.
Goddammit, Cora thought. So much for being focused.
Eight
“You know, people think the more money you have, the better resources you’d clearly have to make yourself disappear. But it’s the opposite. The poorer you are, the more obscure you can make yourself. It’s like dropping a needle into a big fucking haystack.”
Julian sighed. “Paulson, is that your way of telling me you have nothing new to report?”
He turned around to watch Cora speak with someone in the hangar. They had just landed in a private airstrip just outside Paris.
It was 2 AM and still dark. Julian had paused by the jet when Paulson’s call had come in. He had motioned for Cora to go ahead. Until he knew more about the little pixie, he didn’t want her to know just yet about his search. It was too personal to reveal to just anybody.
Paulson’s husky laugh crackled through the phone. “I found a trail of a Gloria Judson traveling through Utah and into Nevada. In Nevada the trail kind of deadends for a while. I think they set up shop near Las Vegas.”
Julian felt his heart stop and his throat clench. He had never heard this before. Montgomery had only given him information about them that ended in Florida, near Miami, before losing their trail. Paulson had confirmed the Miami details last week. But this—Utah, Las Vegas—this was all new information.
“And?” Julian demanded, hungry for more. So Gloria had managed to schlep Karen all the way to Nevada. Las Vegas seemed like a place that would suit Gloria’s personality. How long did they stay there? What did
Gloria do to make a living? Who took care of Karen? Where did she go to school?
“That’s it, for now,” Paulson’s gruff voice said plainly. “It ends there and I can’t seem to pick them up anywhere afterwards. I’m still snooping around Las Vegas and I think I have some leads that might take me north towards Carson City. I’ll let you know soon.”
Julian sighed aggrievedly. The little taste of information had driven him mad for more. “Fine then. Send any expense receipts to Trisha.” With that, he snapped his phone closed and headed towards the hangar where Cora and a private car waited.
“Do you speak Spanish?” Julian suddenly asked.
Cora startled in her seat. She turned away from the tinted car window towards the tall CEO sitting next to her. His long legs were stretched out in front of him in a deceptively lazy pose. But Cora wasn’t fooled. She could feel a kind of restrained energy crackling around him.
Since the phone call he had answered at the airstrip, Julian had been incredibly quiet. Their ride so far had been one of complete silence. Cora had just been relieved to make it to Paris in one piece.
She had been terrified to use her forged passport for the first time in years. But with the name of Julian Benedict behind her, hardly any eyebrows had been raised and she had flown in the luxury of a private jet without any problems.
“Yes, I speak Spanish fluently,” Cora replied. She wondered what kind of call he must’ve received earlier to have put such an odd dampening on his mood.
“Any French?” he asked again curtly. His focused gaze was set straight ahead. If he hadn’t asked his second question, Cora wouldn’t have known if he was speaking to her or the driver.
Cora shook her head. “No French, I’m afraid.”
“Did you learn Spanish at home or in school?” Julian asked in that same abrupt manner. It was then that Cora realized with sudden clarity that the man was trying to distract himself. Whatever the phone call had been about, it couldn’t have been anything pleasant. The man seemed desperate for any kind of distraction.
“At home,” Cora said with more confidence, now that she knew what was expected of her. “I grew up in Mexico.”
Julian looked surprised and turned his head towards her. Cora felt her breath stop in her throat as she felt the full weight of his gaze upon her. And sitting so cozily next to the man in the car didn’t help either.
“When did you come to the States? Your English is impeccable,” he said.
Cora gave a small smile. She thought back to that fake passport burning a whole in her purse. She’d have to tread carefully here. “I came to the States about six years ago. I spent about two years in Arizona hammering out my English before heading to New York.”
Julian was silent as he soaked in the information. “And your family is still in Mexico?”
Cora thought back to her mother. She had yet to disassociate the image of her mother with the smell of booze. “As far as I know.”
Julian raised a brow. “That’s an odd way to say you keep in touch with your family.”
Cora huffed a small laugh. “I guess that’s because I don’t stay in touch with my family. Since coming to the States, I’ve basically been on my own.”
There was another beat of silence.
Cora could see that Julian was still tense. His shoulders looked so stiff, Cora was sure a bodybuilder could easily balance on them. She felt a bit sorry for him. It must be such a drain on him to be a successful CEO and businessman at such a young age. He was barely over thirty. And yet the man was held in esteem as part of the top echelon of business acumen.
“Do you have a lot of family, sir?” she asked, trying to see if she could ease whatever it was that was distressing him.
The change was immediate. Julian sat up in his seat, bringing him to his fullest height. His broad shoulders and long legs suddenly seemed to overwhelm the vehicle. And his dark eyes nearly blackened in the darkness of early morning, making Cora shudder involuntarily.
“No, I don’t,” he said, his voice icy and clipped. “And I’d appreciate your interests remain within the professional sphere.”
Cora opened her mouth, shocked at the sudden cold turn. But before she could figure out any form of an apology, the car pulled to a gentle stop.
“We’ve arrived at the hotel, monsieur,” the driver replied, politely neutral.
Julian opened the door. “Good night, Miss Rámon,” he said as he walked off into the marbled lobby.
Nine
Cora pulled at her blouse as she watched the glass elevator doors open. A private driver had driven her to a tall office within central Paris at 9 AM. She was greeted by the executive assistant of the London office’s vice president. After verifying schedules and meetings, Cora was directed to the 45th floor where the first meeting of the day would be held at 10 AM.
She looked down at her watch. 9:45 AM. Julian Benedict liked to be early for every meeting. He wanted to be able to assess a situation or client prior to sitting down to the negotiating table.
Cora felt her pulse race as she watched the elevator doors open. She had tossed and turned all night. Although Julian had set her up in a beautiful suite in the same luxury hotel he was staying at, Cora felt like she had slept in a beanbag full of straw.
Of course the man had been ridiculously unfair to her. After all, he had asked her questions about her family and background. So it was ridiculous for him to demand she remain professional within their relationship when he had been quite inquisitive about her personal life.
Yet no matter how ridiculous his anger had been, it had been genuine anger. And Cora was upset that she had caused that.
She never wanted an employer to be angry with her but she particularly didn’t want Julian to be angry with her. Although she hadn’t known the man long, she could see that he was a man beset with burdens. She couldn’t yet figure out if these were all professional burdens or personal burdens—
Cora shook her head. No, she knew now. After last night’s reaction, he must have some personal burdens that cause him pain and anger and even guilt. She didn’t know what she could do to make things right.
She had considered calling Trisha for advice but was worried she would be admonished for prying. Although a reserved person, Trisha was clearly very protective over her employer. No, it was better she figured out for herself how to make the situation right.
Just as she was mentally drafting an apology, the elevator doors opened and Julian stepped out. Dressed in a dark charcoal suit with a slim navy tie, he looked like a caged jaguar. He was a wild animal that could dress the part of a civilized man yet could barely hide the primal rawness that lurked just beneath the surface.
Quickly, Cora rushed to meet him, her folders and notepad in hand. “Mr. Benedict, I wanted to apolo—”
“Has Devons arrived?” Julian interrupted, walking at a swift pace towards the meeting room at the end of the hall.
“Yes, sir. And so have Mr. Martin and Abrams. They’re all waiting inside,” Cora said hurriedly, trying to keep pace with him. “But before you go in, sir, I just wanted to—”
“I want you to change the meeting with the Japanese rep from one o’clock to two. And I want to cancel with Klaus. Push him to tomorrow afternoon. I don’t want any meetings tonight after eight.”
Cora quickly took notes of his requests. But before she could make another attempt at apologizing, Julian opened the meeting room doors, greeting the waiting men.
And for the rest of the day, Cora found herself running between meetings, confirming times and writing emails while also taking careful notes. There were literally no moments of privacy between them. If they weren’t in a meeting, they were rushing off towards one with both of them on the phone dealing with their own set of responsibilities.
Every time Julian’s aloof and distant gaze fell upon her, she felt miserable inside. Clearly whatever intimacy Julian shared with Trisha, he would not be sharing with her. She had so envied not only Trisha’s respectable
load of responsibilities but also her closeness with her employer. Cora had secretly hoped the day that she would be such an assistant was not far off.
But with every clipped word and dispassionate gaze, Cora realized that whatever chances there had been were now completely gone.
By about four o’clock, Cora found herself at another office building in Paris. This one was much more sleek with cool neutral colors and lots of metal accents.
It wasn’t quite Cora’s style but she appreciated its modernity. They were there for Julian to meet with Francois Budoin, the fashion conglomerate of Europe. He owned nearly every luxury brand available. Francois was a very private man and preferred small, private meetings. So after a quick round of introductions, Julian entered Francois’s office alone, leaving Cora to explore the roomy executive floor.
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