The Wrong Brother (a perfect for you novel Book 1)

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The Wrong Brother (a perfect for you novel Book 1) Page 2

by Amanda Siegrist


  They stared at one another for the longest time. At least, it felt like that. He needed to turn around.

  “The view. Gorgeous, right? You must—”

  “Moving along, Ms. Stileano. It says here on your application that the last time you had any sort of secretarial job was at nineteen. A few cooking jobs, a bakery, and a flower shop since then. What makes you qualified? I prefer not to waste anyone’s time here. Especially mine.”

  “First off, Mr. Holloway, thank you for getting my last name right this time. I do appreciate that.” For the moment, she’d ignore the fact he interrupted her. Think of Mia. Because, how rude. “Secondly, I’m a fast typer. Writing reports is my forte at my—” Gabby stopped, almost spilling beans about her real job. “At my last job at the flower shop. You have no idea how many inventory reports I had to write. I take meticulous notes because I hate missing anything. There are so many things you can miss if you don’t write that shit down.”

  She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to swear. I have a potty mouth sometimes. There’s a quarter jar at work. I contribute to it...a lot. The main contributor, actually. My former work, that is. I don’t work at the flower shop anymore.”

  That wasn’t a lie. There had been a quarter jar at the flower shop because she made one, just like she created the one at her current job. And the one she had in her apartment. Not to mention one at Mia’s. Not that the dumb swear jars ever stopped her from cursing. She had the worst potty mouth. The words came naturally out of her mouth, no matter how hard she tried to stop herself. But it was nice to have—especially at work—because it filled up quickly with everyone contributing to it. They always used the money to buy donuts, cupcakes, and anything else yummy to snack on.

  She inhaled a patient breath and folded her legs. She never lost her cool like this. He was simply too easy to look at. His eyes, brown as the chocolate she ate this morning, seared into her as she spoke. It was unnerving. Thinking about that chocolate made her want to eat him up as well. She imagined he’d be just as delicious.

  Stop it! Mia, don’t forget about Mia.

  “The qualifications said you needed someone who could write memos, take notes, file files.” She laughed. Not that there was anything funny about this situation. His tepid expression said he wasn’t amused at all. “I am very organized, some would even say anal—way anal. I’ve had that said to me way too many times. But hey, if it’s in its place, you can’t lose it. Am I right?”

  She watched as his lips moved, barely. She couldn’t tell if that was a smile wanting to be freed or an unconscious gesture. She had to say, though, she enjoyed looking at his lips. They looked like very kissable lips. She could already imagine them making their way to hers. Taking a light nibble, then making a slow trail down her neck to her breast where he would clamp onto her—

  Mia! You are here for Mia. Stop letting your mind wander.

  “Why did you leave the flower business? Any problems that I should know? Besides your potty mouth,” he said, his gaze still unwavering and void of any expression but coolness.

  But that twitch. She saw it again. Definite twitch of the lips. He wanted to smile. She could tell. Oh, how she wanted him to smile. She imagined it would personify his handsome features. The added five o’clock shadow on his cheeks added a hint of danger. Like he was tempting her to close the distance and kiss him. Brush her cheek against his scruffy one.

  Stop this nonsense.

  “I needed a change. So, here I am. What’s to lose? I would love to work for your company. You design and build things. I love watching things come alive. I rock at Legos with my five-year-old nephew. Not that that has anything to do with this.” She could feel a blush coming on. Seriously, Gabs. She never mumbled and sounded like an idiot. “The most you can do is say no. I didn’t lose anything. But if you say yes and give me a chance, I win. I gain a job. And you win. What’s not to like about that scenario? You’ll see within an hour what kind of wonderful secretary I would be if you gave me a chance.”

  And you better because Mia will cry. I hate it when Mia cries. Then she pasted on the best smile she owned.

  “You’re not like any of the other applicants I’ve interviewed. I like your honesty, Ms. Stileano. I’m a busy man—”

  “So you said several times. Don’t you take time for yourself at all? Have a little fun and let loose? You can’t always be busy.”

  “Don’t interrupt me. Ever.”

  She nodded in agreement. “You’re right. That was rude of me. But you shouldn’t interrupt me if you don’t like it. You did earlier if you’re confused about what I’m talking about. Just sayin’…Mr. Holloway.”

  A lone brow rose as if he were amazed at her audacity. She liked the look on him. It made him look sexier somehow, his cheekbones rising a little, the ridges on his face contorting into a slight shock that made her want to kiss each spot.

  No kissing! Mia. Mia. Mia. If she needed to repeat her friend’s name a billion times in her head, she would.

  Why was she having these illicit thoughts about a man who was—in all reality—cheating on her friend?

  Because it had been a long while since she had sex. She needed to rectify that problem, especially if she had to work with him for the next week. Hopefully. Not too hopeful, though, because she couldn’t act on her impulses—like vault across his desk and devour him from head to toe. Nope. Just hopeful for Mia’s sake.

  “I must be losing my mind,” he muttered, then ran a hand through his hair. Oh, wow. The gesture turned her on further, making her wish she could do the same thing.

  No! She did not want to run her hands through his hair.

  “I have work to do, and this is wasting my time. You want your hour? Here’s your chance. I need this memo typed up, twenty minutes ago. I need this phone call returned that I can’t make the meeting on Thursday. Reschedule it for Friday at a nice restaurant. I need to impress the client. After twelve but before four o’clock. And not Decello’s. Don’t ask why. I need emails to these people on the change of construction on the new building in Brooklyn. To the contractors, finance department, and investors. I don’t have the time to hold your hand or explain further about what I said. Do it in an hour, or you can leave. That’s my answer.” He held out a stack of papers and sticky notes, his expression indicating he wasn’t messing around.

  “A kind ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ would go a long way. Just sayin’.” She grabbed the papers from him and stood up. “Thank you for the opportunity. See how easy that was?”

  His face was still void of any emotion, not even a flicker of what he was thinking. “Get to work, Ms. Stileano.” His lip twitched again as if he wanted to smile. “Before I change my mind.”

  Duly noted. He was the biggest Scrooge in the office. She walked out of his office, happy to be free and clear of his handsome face. This was going to be the longest week of her life. She hoped he hit on her. And no, not that she could revel in the fact he found her attractive as well and how he wanted to throw her across his desk and have his dirty way with her. Definitely not for that reason, as tempting as it may be. But because she would know he was a lying, cheating, dirty scumbag. She could rid Mia of him and get the hell out of this building away from his enticing, sexy face.

  Dane rubbed a tired hand over his face after his new secretary walked away and closed his office door. What was he getting himself into hiring her? He had to be out of his mind. She swore, she stated her opinion without thinking, and her last job was working at a flower shop five months ago. A flower shop! Here he was hiring her to work as his secretary, where she would be making more money than she ever saw in her life.

  Not that he thought about the money he made. He didn’t have time to think about things like that. He worked too much.

  But he worked to get that kind of money in his bank account. He liked his job.

  No. He loved his job, and he wasn’t in it for the money. He didn’t need to rise to the top like some people without working har
d to earn his way there.

  Of course, he didn’t want his thoughts to derail there because then he wouldn’t get anything done. He was already behind schedule on his latest project. He needed Ms. Stileano to pull through for him. If she did her job well, she deserved each penny given to her. Because he would work her to the bone. He had with every other secretary.

  Not that they stayed long enough for his liking. They always quit within a few weeks, or he fired them. He couldn’t stand incompetence or slacking. He needed his work done, and he needed it done right away.

  How long would she last?

  He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the woman that had him taking a chance for once. He never took chances. He always investigated, analyzed, and scrutinized every tiny detail before making a decision. He didn’t get to where he was without being precise. He always had to work hard to make his way—even in his own father’s company. Yet, here he was, hiring her on the spot.

  But her honesty. That had him hooked right away. Honesty was hard to come by. He didn’t see it very often, especially in his own family. Unlike some people, he always tried to be honest. Whether people saw that as a weakness, he didn’t care. Honesty was important—critical in any relationship. He knew where he stood with Ms. Stileano, and that wasn’t something he could ignore. She wouldn’t hold back her opinion. He liked that about her—a lot.

  Dane ran another hand through his hair. Damn. Was he making a mistake hiring her? He couldn’t afford to get behind any further in this latest project.

  Would she get everything done? Would she screw anything up?

  She looked the part, like she knew how to run an office with efficiency and organization. She was dressed very conservatively, very dull that wouldn’t attract too much attention. But she had an elegance that wasn’t hard to miss: long, wavy hair, half pinned to the side, giving a nice view of her cheekbone. For a moment, he had lost his train of thought, wondering what it would be like to kiss her along her jawline to her mouth.

  Damn it.

  Not something he could afford—a distraction. He had too much work to get done.

  Double damn. Perhaps hiring her had been a mistake. She would be a huge distraction. She had since the moment she sat down in front of his desk. Her blouse had pulled tight across her chest, revealing a nice set of breasts that made a man want to touch. He was thankful it only lasted a second before she settled into the chair, making her blouse loose again. He couldn’t believe he even noticed in the first place. He never noticed things like that.

  He had to admit, his favorite part had been when she walked out. The way her ass swayed from side to side, her pants fitting snug. He never considered himself an ass man, but he had been tempted to stand up and follow her. To grab her from behind and squeeze. Thank heavens he stayed seated and hid the hard erection that formed from watching her walk away.

  An erection, for God’s sake. At work.

  He needed to keep his thoughts away from the bedroom. He didn’t have time for a woman. And he didn’t need to screw things up by sleeping with his secretary. Never had he stooped so low in his life. Things like that were despicable in his eyes. He wasn’t about to start now. Maybe none of that would matter. Could she last an hour with his high expectations?

  To his surprise, she did more than he expected. She completed his long list he threw out to her in their initial meeting, not once needing to clarify anything. She returned a few phone calls that needed to be taken care of via the sticky notes posted on the computer screen on her desk. She also tackled the phone calls as they came in, learning quickly he didn’t want to be bothered by just anybody.

  He knew he was abrupt—to most people if he was honest with himself. If he expected honesty with others, he had to be honest with himself as well. He didn’t have time for nonsense. Most of the calls he received were nonsense. He needed a secretary who would weed out the nonsense right away and take care of the problem. He had given her a small reprieve by explaining what calls he wanted to take and what calls should be directed to the office manager down the hallway. He had bigger things to deal with than what color he wanted the walls painted in the new building in Brooklyn. Paint them white, for all he cared. It was the structure, the magnificence of the building itself that made his heart soar.

  An hour and a half into her probation period, he decided he liked her efficiency. He canceled the other three interviews he had lined up that afternoon. He was sick and tired of looking for a secretary—three long days of interviewing, coming up empty in each one. None of them spoke to him like Ms. Stileano had. By noon, he left for a lunch meeting and told her he’d be back by two. He told her to grab lunch and finish completing the memos he placed on her desk.

  He knew it was a large stack he set forth for her to complete. But he was three days behind schedule. Three days without a secretary that too much work had piled up. He hated being behind, and he hated rushing even more. He liked everything to run smoothly. So far, she had proved to make things run very smoothly for him indeed.

  Until he went to the filing cabinet in his office and couldn’t find the file he needed. Nothing was in its spot.

  “Ms. Stileano, my office! Now!” He shuffled through the files, his irritation rising by the second. He glanced over to the door to see it closed. Where was she?

  “Ms. Stileano!” Slowing down as his fingers ventured forward through each folder, he made sure to take his time so he wouldn’t miss the file he was looking for.

  What was taking her? This was ridiculous.

  “Ms. Stileano, I need you. Now!”

  His fingers paused between the files. It couldn’t be. He blew out a deep breath, wondering how much nerve the woman actually had.

  A kind please and thank you would go a long way. Just sayin’.

  “Ms. Stileano, come here…please.”

  No more than three seconds passed before the door opened and she walked in.

  “Yes, Mr. Holloway. You needed me?”

  “Were you standing outside the door waiting for me to say please?”

  “Was it so difficult to use the word? I am a person with feelings. I may be your secretary, but I am not a doormat or a dog. I don’t jump at commands.”

  He steeled his mind not to lash out. She was right. He could be more polite at times. But he needed this file, and he needed it now.

  “Did you mess with my files?”

  “Do you mean to ask if I organized them? Then, yes, I did mess with them. I completed everything you asked of me. I took a phone call from Mr. Shelburg, who needed some information on the Duncan building. I came in here to look for it, and let me tell you, your filing sense is atrocious. I almost didn’t find the damn thing. I had to apologize to Mr. Shelburg—multiple times—for keeping him on hold for so long. You weren’t back yet from your meeting, so I organized your filing cabinet for you.”

  “But I can’t find anything now.”

  “Could you seriously find anything before?”

  He paused, not wanting to answer the question. Then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he said, “You swore again. Do we need a swear jar, Ms. Stileano?”

  A tiny smirk appeared on her gorgeous face. “Maybe.”

  He forced himself not to return a smile, smirk, or even a tiny grin, but damn, he wanted to.

  “I need the Marcelli file. Where is it?”

  “It’s simple. I promise. It’s under M.”

  She smiled brightly, making him want to shake her silly and remove that damn smile. Then it hit him. He knew the perfect way to remove it. What would she do if he suddenly kissed her? That’d wipe her smile off with ease. That sounded like a much better plan than shaking her.

  Damn it. He couldn’t kiss his secretary, no matter how enticing it sounded. But, oh, it sounded very enticing.

  He pressed his lips together to hold back another smile that wanted to let loose. “Do you enjoy being a smartass?”

  She tilted her head, tapping a finger on
her temple. “On occasion. But I didn’t mean it sarcastically. I meant it literally. It’s really simple. I organized it by sorting everything alphabetically. It’ll be much easier for you.” Then another beautiful smile appeared. “Perhaps I should make a swear jar. You can’t seem to control your impulses to swear either.”

  He averted his attention back to the cabinet. She was right on one account. He couldn’t control his impulse to swear, and he was almost having a hard time controlling the impulse to cross the distance and kiss her senseless. Ignoring what he knew would be a terrible idea, he pulled open another drawer where he found the Ms. He saw the file he needed immediately, grabbed it, shoving the drawer closed.

  “Ms. Stileano, I need a cup of coffee.” He walked back over to his desk.

  “You can get your own coffee.”

  “Excuse me?” And he thought she had already managed to surprise him enough for the day. Apparently, he was wrong.

  “I’m your secretary. Nowhere in the job description did it mention fetching you a cup of coffee. I’m not your personal servant. Although, you’ve felt the need to almost act like I’ve been just that all day. I have a lot of things to do, thanks to you. I don’t have time to get your coffee. If you want one, you’ll have to get it yourself.”

  “Do you like testing me?”

  “No. It’s simple manners. You didn’t even add ‘please.’”

  “Do you want to be fired already?”

  “Are you firing me?”

  2

  Gabby pulled her feet onto the couch, rubbing her toes with a rough hand. She needed a good massage. A deep massage. She hadn’t worn heels in a long time. Not some cheap heels with little height. But no, tall, make-me-break-my-neck heels. Only because Mia suggested she wear the damn hazardous shoes. While one would think a secretary sat at a desk all day, she didn’t. That damn aggravating man had her running back and forth between her desk, his office, and the file room down the long, long hallway.

 

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