Catastrophe Queen

by Emma Hart

  “No, I used it to wipe my arse this morning.”

  She clicked her tongue. “You’re such a child.”

  “Then stop acting like my big sister.” I grinned, taking the coffee from her.

  “You’d be a nicer person if you had one, so the job is left to me.” She rolled her eyes and tucked her skirt under her thighs and sat down. “She’s doing good. I think she’s a little overwhelmed, but I have to get Tilly at twelve-thirty, so I don’t have a lot of time to train her. Will you be gentle with her this afternoon?”

  I sighed. “I wish I could. I’m not here all afternoon. I have two meetings before lunch, then immediately after, the Carlisles have two viewings for beach houses on the coast. It’s an hour each way, so she’ll be gone by the time I leave.”

  Casey winced. “Damn it. She needs someone here who knows what they’re doing.”

  “Move Ellen into the office temporarily and reroute her phone line downstairs. Amanda can help her.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Ellen? You want to move her?”

  “Why not? She’s doing a better job than Sydney right now. Besides, it’s only for one day.”

  “She’s going to be running up and down the stairs all afternoon, Cam. You can’t put her through that.”

  I threw out my hands. “What do you want me to do, Case? You know my schedule. I have a viewing tomorrow first thing, and then I’m here all day. You could have had her start tomorrow.”

  She wiggled her finger at me, her nail blurring blue through the air. “May I remind you, cuz, that I’m doing you a favor? I should be at home with my baby, not pumping my boobs in the bathroom while you flit your way through assistants like they’re toilet paper.”

  All right, that was an exaggeration.

  “First, I don’t want to know what you do with your boobs, feeding Tilly or otherwise,” I said. “Second, I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate it. Do you want me to cancel the Carlisles and put them off until tomorrow?”

  Slumping in the chair, she ran her hand over her sleek ponytail. “No, I can’t do that. Look—she’ll be fine. It might help that you aren’t here. She won’t have to worry about whether you need sugar instead of sweetener or dealing with any of your up-their-ass clients.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Have I run your life for five years or not?”

  “My professional life,” I said slowly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “And if you’d let me get in there with your personal one, you’d never have dated that gold digger.”

  “Cynthia wasn’t a gold digger. She just had expensive taste.”

  “If that makes you feel better, you keep telling yourself that.” She rolled her eyes. “Mallory will be fine. She’s smart. She’s got this, but I do have to introduce you to her before you leave.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I know her from somewhere, Case. She looks familiar.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  “No. I’m a virgin.”

  “Yeah, me too. Tilly is actually Jesus, born by immaculate conception,” she drawled, sarcasm tilting every syllable. “Did you?”

  I shook my head and looked over her head toward the wall where my new assistant was sitting—behind a few inches of brick, that was. “No. I haven’t slept with her. I’d have remembered her name if I did.”

  “You’re a regular Romeo.”

  “Shut up. Can you find out a little more about her? I don’t have time to get to know her today.”

  Casey grinned. Slowly, she leaned forward on my desk on her elbows, touching her fingertips together in an evil genius pose. “I already know how you know her.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “You do?”

  “Yup.”

  A phone rang from outside my office.

  My cousin stood up, a total shit-eating grin on her face, and headed for the doorway. “Sorry, I need to make sure your new assistant is doing okay on the phone.”

  “Casey—”

  The door slammed behind her before I tell her to get her stupid ass back in here.

  Ugh.

  I needed to talk to my aunt about her daughter’s attitude.

  It wasn’t working for me now that she wasn’t.

  And who the fuck was Mallory Harper?

  ***

  I’d barely stepped out of my car when my phone rang. Antonia Wellington’s name flashed on the screen, and I had half a mind to let it run to voicemail and pretend I was driving.

  Unfortunately for me, she was my mother’s friend, and if I didn’t answer, my mom would be on the phone in thirty minutes wondering why.

  Pushing the door to Reid Real Estate open, I hit the green button to answer the call and lifted the phone to my ear, shooting Amanda a smile. “Mrs. Wellington, what can I do for you?”

  “Cameron!” Her shrill voice almost made me pull the phone from my ear.

  Instead, I gritted my teeth, smiled at my realtors, and took to the stairs. “Yes. Mrs. Wellington? Is there a problem with one of the houses?”

  “What’s the planning permission on the second house you showed us? Can we put in a pool?”

  Oh, fuck me. Like the private stretch of beach wasn’t enough for Her Ladyship. “I just this second walked back into the office—why don’t you give me an hour to check up on that for you and I’ll call you back?”

  “An hour? I don’t have an hour, Cameron. Do I have to call someone else?”

  I knew damn well that she wasn’t going to call anyone else, and so did she. But still, I played along. “Of course not.” I took the second set of stairs up to my office, keeping my head down. “You know I’d get them right away, but Mayor Green’s son and his wife are moving back to town, and I have a meeting with Mrs. Green in ten minutes to get her some information.”

  There was a pregnant pause, then, “Of course. Mayor Green can’t be kept waiting, and neither can his lovely wife. Why don’t you send me that information to my email when you’ve got it today? I do appreciate all your hard work.”

  Imagine that.

  “Not a problem at all,” I said, walking into my office and pushing the door shut. “It’s my pleasure. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Thank you for all your wonderful work today. The houses are simply gorgeous.”

  Casey came to the door, eyebrows raised.

  I frowned. “Of course, Mrs. Wellington. Goodbye.”

  As soon as she said her goodbye, I hung up.

  Casey stormed in and slammed the door behind her. “I thought your viewing was this afternoon?”

  “Andrew Lockart canceled, and Antonia was able to come out early. What’s the problem?”

  “The problem?” she hissed. “You bailed before I could introduce you to Mallory so I had to ask Mom to look after Tilly until three! Poor Mallory had to deal with Jemima Carlton while I was pumping in the kitchen!”

  That was almost enough to put the fear of God in me. Jemima Carlton was a lioness on the best of days.

  “Did she survive?”

  “Oh, she survived,” Casey said with a snap. “Apparently, Jemima demanded to be put through to you, but she either has grandparents as eccentric as ours or a closet two-year-old at home because she soothed her enough to get her to call back tomorrow. And. You. Were. Not. Here.” She jabbed her finger in my shoulder with every word.

  I held up my hands. “All right, all right. Why don’t you go calm down, and I’ll come to meet her officially in a second?”

  “I don’t trust you, so no. I’m bringing her in here.”

  Before I could say a word, Casey stormed out of my office and turned toward the desk.

  Shit.

  I was in trouble.

  I took a chug of water from the bottle on my desk and stood, straightening out my suit. Regardless of anything, I was still the boss here, and I’d get her back at some family function sooner or later.

  I followed Casey out into the hall. The woman I assumed was Mallory was sitting behind the desk, looking up at h
er and nodding.

  Dark brown hair fell in curls over her shoulders, and her attractive features gave her the perfect profile—the kind of one a kid in school made silhouette artwork out of. Pouty lips, a button nose with just the right amount of curve on her nose, and a sleek jaw that was currently slightly dropped as she took in whatever Casey was telling her.

  She nodded again, her hair bouncing as she did so, then paused. As if she could feel my eyes on her, she turned her head toward me and met my gaze.

  She was fucking beautiful.

  Her dark-blue eyes widened, recognition and panic flashing in them, and her cheeks flushed pink in a wave that started at her neck and finished at the top of her high cheekbones.

  Hell, I think it ended at her hairline—half of which was obscured by bangs that swept over her forehead in a style similar to Casey’s.

  Speaking of… My cousin’s eyes flitted between us for a second before she stepped forward. “Cameron—Mr. Reid—this is your new assistant, Mallory Harper. Mallory, this is Mr. Cameron Reid.”

  Mallory stood slowly, her cheeks still flushed. It took her a good moment to meet my eyes again and hold my gaze. When she did, though, all hints of recognition and shyness were gone.

  In their place was resolute determination.

  She put her hand out in an offering. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Reid.”

  I couldn’t help the slight upturn of my lips as I took her hand in mine. She had a surprisingly firm handshake, but I couldn’t tell if that was her actual handshake or her gripping onto me for dear life.

  Either way, it was endearing.

  “The pleasure is mine, Miss Harper. Or would I prefer that I call you Mallory?”

  “Mallory is fine.” Another blush colored her cheeks as she dropped her hand, but it seemed as though it didn’t bother her. “Unless you’d prefer Miss Harper?”

  I wanted to grin at the glint in her eye. It was almost…challenging. “Well, you’re not my insufferable cousin here,” I said, eyeing Casey.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, you’re cousins?”

  I raised my eyebrow. “Case, I know you generally try to claim you were adopted, but didn’t you think that was important?”

  Casey didn’t bat an eyelid as she straightened a file on the desk. “Not at all. Like you said—I claim I’m adopted on a regular basis. Especially in the last few months, given your propensity to fire all your assistants, I chose to keep it quiet this time.”

  Mallory’s lips curled to the side, and she dropped her gaze for a heartbeat.

  My cousin side-eyed me for a second before turning her attention to my new assistant. “Mallory, I’m terribly sorry I didn’t tell you that this hunk of frustration is related to me by more blood than I care to admit. By all means, feel free to throw the sugar in the trash and skimp on the sweetener, too.”

  It was incredibly hard to be professional around her. “Casey, you can go now.”

  “But I was just getting started.”

  “Weren’t you just complaining about the fact Aunt Moira has Tilly until three?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Mallory and I will be just fine.” I gave her a pointed look. “I know you’ll be back here tomorrow morning to make sure I haven’t fired her, so…” I made a walking motion toward the door, hoping she’d get the hint.

  She did.

  That was why she was wearing a huge, shit-eating grin. “All right. Let me run things over with Mallory one more time, and then I’ll be out of your hair, cuz.”

  “I think she’s probably got the hang of it. She looks smarter than the last girl you hired.”

  “Maybe you should hire your assistants yourself.”

  The phone rang, cutting through our childish banter. Mallory grabbed for it like it was her lifeline out of here, and with a perfectly friendly tone, said, “Good afternoon, you’ve reached Cameron Reid’s office. Mallory speaking. How can I help you?”

  As she slid into the cushy leather chair, I motioned for Casey to follow me toward my office. “Do you have to be such a shithead?” I hissed her.

  “Yes. If you’d had an older sister, she’d be doing this.”

  “You’re a month older than me. She’s just fine. Look at her. Now go look after my niece before I invest in ten years’ worth of drumsets for her.” I gave her a hard look before I slammed my office door and sat down in my chair.

  My heart was racing, and it was fucking stupid. Casey had made me look a fool in front of my new assistant, and the longer I sat in silence behind my closed door, the angrier I felt. Most of my staff were used to our tempestuous, sibling-like relationship, but it wasn’t the impression I wanted to imprint on my new assistant.

  Especially not one as beautiful and familiar as Mallory Harper.

  How the fuck did I know there? I couldn’t imagine a situation where I couldn’t remember meeting her.

  Rubbing my hands over my face once again, I pictured hers.

  That dark hair that sat in loose curls around her face. Big, dark-blue eyes. Bee-stung, pouty lips slicked in red lipstick. Cheeks pink like my grandmother’s roses.

  A knock sounded at my door, and I sat up straight, instinctively adjusting my tie. “Come in.”

  The door creaked open, and Mallory peeked inside, holding a coffee mug in her hand. “Am I interrupting anything?”

  Yes. Thinking about you.

  “Not at all,” was what left my mouth.

  She smiled, her entire face brightening with it. “I checked your schedule and saw that you’re free. Cynthia Carlton asked that you return her call as soon as you had a moment, if it was sooner than first thing tomorrow morning.” She hid a laugh. “I thought I’d bring you a coffee before you tackled that conversation.”

  “I appreciate it, thank you.” I moved the dirty coffee cup from this morning so she could put the new one down. “I’m sorry she was one of your first conversations today.”

  “Oh, it’s fine.” Mallory took the dirty mug without batting an eyelid. “If you think she’s hard work, you should meet my great aunt.” She shot me a smile before pausing at the sound of the phone. “I should get that. Sorry.”

  She darted off, leaving my door ajar before I could ask her to close it.

  Oddly enough, it was only at the sight of her leaving that I froze, my memory flashing with the events of two days prior.

  A beautiful brunette woman, on her ass on the curb. Her Starbucks cup flattened on the sidewalk with the hot, fresh coffee splattered over the concrete, and big, dark-blue eyes staring up at me with pure embarrassment.

  Holy shit.

  The crazy woman who’d run in front of my car was my new assistant.

  And, no matter what she’d said, after meeting her, I had no doubt in my mind that those flamingo panties had been hers.

  There was only one word for this situation.

  And that word was: fuck.

  CHAPTER FIVE – MALLORY

  I’d been staring at the clock for fifteen minutes, just waiting for the big hand to tick up to the twelve. The little hand had been firmly edging its way toward the five for far too long.

  I needed to get out of here.

  This new job was a disaster.

  Meeting my new boss—Cameron Reid—had been nothing short of utterly embarrassing. After Casey had introduced us, I wanted to run and hide in the bathroom and attempt an escape out of the window.

  I may well have done if I’d had my purse with me.

  Thankfully, I’d been saved by the bell. The phone, if you wanted to be entirely specific. It’d pulled my attention away from the hottest man I’d ever met—who’d almost run me over and was now my boss.

  Up close, he was even more handsome.

  I mean, it wasn’t like I was able to share unashamedly at him when I was on my ass on the curb, was it? I’d been so humiliated I’d wanted to run away, and I’d done it. Complete with a portion of my ass on show.

  Today, I had no escape route,
and I’d had no choice but to make eye contact with him numerous times.

  All I had going for me at this point was that he hadn’t recognized me. Not yet, anyway, and I hoped like hell it stayed that way.

  The last thing I needed my new boss to know was that I was a complete and utter walking disaster. Much like sex, that was something you saved for later on in a relationship. Like when I was six months in, and he liked me to enough to not fire me for being a hot mess.

  Granted, I probably couldn’t keep my disaster tendencies under control that long, but I only needed this job for three months.

  I could do that. I could totally not screw this up for three months so I could move out of my parents’ place.

  Setting attainable goals and all that.

  The big hand ticked onto the twelve, and I grabbed hold of my mouse so hard I almost crushed it. I took a deep breath and made sure I had all the programs and files saved and shut down before I turned off the computer.

  It would be just like me to accidentally delete everything.

  Then I’d have been screwed. It’d taken me weeks to get this job. I’d need to start praying to get another if I lost this.

  With another deep breath, I made sure I had all my things and headed for Mr. Reid’s office. I knocked on the door, holding my purse against my body like a shield.

  A clunk came from inside, followed by some gentle scraping, and I heard a deep hum of agreement as the door opened.

  He stood on the other side, phone to his ear, and waved me in. “I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone before he tapped the screen and put it down.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all. Just a friend.” His blue eyes darted to my purse. “Are you done?”

  “It’s five,” I said, clutching the strap of my purse tighter as butterflies swilled in my stomach. “I was just checking if you needed anything before I left.”

  “Is it? Crap.” He checked his watch. “Well, I’m running late,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m all good, Mallory, thanks. See you tomorrow?”

  I nodded. “What time will you be here?”

  “Around ten-thirty. I have an early viewing.” He paused. “Would it be wrong of me to ask you to get me breakfast and put it in the fridge?”