Annihilate Me (Vol. 1) (The Annihilate Me Series)

by Christina Ross

  Ms. Blackwell forced herself into my thoughts, and now I knew why her words made sense: Keep a cool head.

  I wasn’t sure if that was possible, but I nevertheless forced myself to keep a neutral expression as I extended my hand to him. “This is a surprise,” I said.

  He shook my hand, and when he did, his large hand engulfed mine.

  “If this were a different interview with a different woman, I wouldn’t have believed that. But the other day, it was obvious you didn’t know who I was, not that it matters much. Still, the fact is that it doesn’t happen often. In our brief moment of chaos the other day, I was a kid again. With you, I felt anonymous.” He gestured around his office. “It was as if none of this is important, and it isn’t. At least not to me.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

  “Please,” he said, letting go of my hand. “Sit with me.”

  He motioned toward two comfortable-looking leather chairs that faced each other in the center of the room. Side tables with low lamps sat on either side of each. I fell in step behind him, still in a haze of disbelief that this was happening. He’d seen me at my worst—frazzled, frustrated and vulnerable. He knew I’d been crying when he entered the elevator that day. He saw me walk into that man, and he knew it happened because I’d turned back to look at him.

  What am I doing here?

  I took one of the chairs and sank into it. It was firm, but forgiving, like a little piece of heaven. The cool leather felt good against my skin, especially when I crossed my legs and my calf pressed against the bottom of the chair. It sent a chill through me.

  Or was that because of him?

  I watched him sit down. He was wearing a black suit that hid a tight, muscular build hidden beneath. His cobalt blue tie set off the intensity of his blue-green eyes, which now were caught in the glow of the lamps on either side of him. He seemed to study me for a moment. With a confidence I didn’t know I possessed, I did the same.

  “I’ll come clean,” he said. “When you left the other day, I went straight to Blackwell and asked for your resume. I see that you’re from Maine.”

  “I am.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  I thought of my parents, and then of the few friends I’d left behind. “Parts of it.”

  “Which parts?”

  “The good parts.”

  He smiled at that, and then turned when a knock came at the door. “Come in, Ann,” he said.

  The door opened and Ann entered with a silver tray, upon which were two glistening martinis. She seemed impossibly regal and elegant to me, which brought out insecurities I was trying to tamp down. Watch her, I thought. Learn from her. Look at how she moves. This is what it’s like at the top. This is what he’ll expect from you.

  She handed me a martini, which I put down on the table next to me. She then turned to give Alex his.

  “Thank you, Ann.”

  With a slight nod of her head, she left the room. When the door clicked shut, he raised his glass to me. “To new possibilities,” he said.

  I reached for my drink, and leaned forward to touch glasses with his. We sipped and, as promised, the liquid was smooth and cold. Still, I felt like a fraud. I didn’t have half the sophistication Ann had, and I was here to replace her? Give me a break.

  I am so not at this level. Martinis at noon? Who does that?

  The answer came at once.

  Mr. Wenn does that.

  I looked at him, and saw that he was watching me with a directness I found, at once, exciting and intimidating. He was beyond handsome. He looked as if he’d stepped out of the pages of GQ. Or off the cover.

  “I noted on your resume that you have an MBA.”

  “I do.”

  “What did you hope to find when you came to Manhattan?”

  “For starters? A job. So far, that’s been futile.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “If I knew, I’d likely have a job.”

  “I can’t imagine why you’d have difficulty finding a job here.”

  I remembered what the cabbie said to me the other day, and offered it up as a possible explanation. “The economy is in the can.”

  “Not for someone like you. I think you might intimidate people.”

  Why do I keep hearing that? “How?”

  He shrugged and sipped his drink, but didn’t answer. “What did you hope to find at Wenn? I understand you applied for a secretarial position. Why?”

  “To be blunt, I need the money. I’ve been here since May. Money is tight at this point, so a girl needs to work. I figured if I could get my foot in the door, someone would see that I had talents that went beyond answering phones, and then maybe I’d get a better job within the organization.”

  “You know, if I asked that of someone else, I would have been given a line of bullshit.”

  “That’s not me.”

  “I assume that’s the Mainer in you.”

  “Where I come from, we have ethics.”

  “I know you do. When my parents were alive, we had a summer home on Hancock Point. I still own it, actually, though I haven’t been there in years because I’ve been so busy here.”

  “It’s beautiful on the Point. You must have loved it there.”

  “I did. When I was a boy, I spent most of my summers in Maine. Initially, some people resented me because I was one of the summer people. But over time, that went away. The people I befriended were locals. I came to know them and I played with them, much to the chagrin of my mother, who was a snob. Through my friends, I realized how lucky and unlucky I was. I had plenty to eat, which most of my friends didn’t. But my friends had lasting friendships, which I lacked because of who my family was. Maine gave me a good perspective on the world.”

  “How about Manhattan?”

  “It’s a completely different perspective. A ruthless one. I don’t feel anything here. If I could retire to the country or to the coast, I would. But apparently my destiny is to carry out my father’s legacy, which was decreed to me in his will without my knowledge of it.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “So, there’s some ‘no-bullshit’ information about me. I think we’re even now.”

  As much as he had bared, I could sense it was only the tip of whatever drove him to share it with me. His voice was almost clipped when he spoke. He didn’t seem happy to me, which intrigued me. This man appeared to have it all—he was a billionaire with his own building on Fifth Avenue, for God’s sake—but there was an unmistakable sense of sadness about him that I’d probably never understand. His ‘no-bullshit’ response was telling, but only to a point. There was a mystery within him, an undercurrent of something darker that I’d likely never put my finger on. I sensed that he would go far to protect his privacy, which he should. What he gave me only was for show, though I appreciated his effort to make me feel at ease.

  “I need to come clean with you, Jennifer.”

  That piqued my interest. Had he been lying to me? If so, about what? “How so?”

  “I asked you here because I needed to make certain that you were the one.”

  “For the executive assistant’s job, you mean?” I reached behind my head, and did what Blackwell had told me to do. I pulled out the long black pin and shook out my hair without once leaving his gaze. I felt the weight of my hair tumble down my back, but my attention remained on him. Steady and unwavering.

  He watched me, finished his martini in one long swallow, and glanced away. He seemed uneasy and distracted. “I’m asked to attend a lot of social events,” he said. “Several each week, most of which end up with me doing some kind of business for Wenn. There’s a party tonight in fact. I don’t like going to them because I end up going alone. Women try to attach themselves to me, and I know what they want. They aren’t interested in me. What they want is the money and the notoriety that comes from being with me. I know that sounds arrogant, but it’s nevertheless the truth, and I hate it. At any one of these events, there is not one woman
there who is interested in me as a person. What they see is a bank account and a lifestyle. I’m not seeking an executive assistant, Jennifer. What I’m seeking is a beautiful woman like you who would attend these events with me and, as ridiculous as it sounds, pretend to be someone I’m seeing.”

  I felt my stomach sink, along with my heart. “You’re asking me to be your escort?”

  “If you’re using the word escort in the traditional sense, then absolutely not. This isn’t about sex, and I’d never insult you like that. All I’m seeking is a well-paid companion who will keep the wolves at bay so I can meet the people I need to meet, and move my business forward by striking the deals I need to strike at these sorts of events. I’m asking you to pose as my girlfriend. But it would only be an act. Yes, we’ll occasionally need to hold hands for show. I might give you a peck on the cheek. There needs to be some sort of physical indication that we’re a couple, but I’ll only do what you agree is comfortable for you. If it’s just occasionally holding hands, or me whispering in your ear, or us sharing an intimate laugh, or perhaps having a dance, then that’s it. I’ll never cross whatever boundaries you establish. Only you and I will know about this, but people need to believe that we are happy together and that there is chemistry between us. I already think that exists. At the end of the event, I’ll take you home, we’ll say our goodnights, and Ann or Ms. Blackwell will be in touch with you about the next event. Look,” he said. “I know this sounds insane, but I don’t feel as if I have another option. I’m not interested in dating anyone right now or for the foreseeable future. I want to focus on my work, and I want to be left alone to do it. I don’t want women distracting me. I don’t want to be romantically involved. It just ruins things. Does that make sense?”

  “How does it ruin things?”

  He didn’t answer my question. “I just need to know if this makes sense to you.”

  “I suppose it does in a crazy sort of way.” And it did. I could see why women would throw themselves at him. He was one of the best-looking men I’d ever seen. Surely, I wasn’t alone in that opinion. I could see women approaching him and trying to get to him, and how that could be an unwanted interruption.

  “I hope I haven’t offended you,” he said.

  I reached behind my head and lifted my hair off my neck, which felt warm. I pulled it over my right shoulder, and it curled around my breast. “You’ve surprised me. I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “I think you’re beautiful, Jennifer. And you seem to be a kind person, which matters to me. I like that you’re from Maine. I respond to that. If you’d consider taking the job, I’d be grateful.”

  “Exactly how is this going to read on a resume?”

  “That you were my executive assistant. Or whatever title you’d like to choose. It doesn’t matter to me. If you find this isn’t for you, I can find work for you here at the same salary. No hard feelings. I’m sure there is an executive-level position that Ms. Blackwell could find or make up for you here. But I’d need you to give this a chance first.”

  “How long of a chance?”

  “Three months.”

  “How many events per week?”

  “It can be up to five. For the better part of each week, we’ll essentially be inseparable during the evenings.”

  Blackwell entered my head: Keep a cool head and an open mind. Think ‘big picture.’ Think ‘future.’ Don’t be a fool and think too much about this.

  “This is strictly platonic?” I asked.

  “Strictly.”

  “I’d prefer not to be kissed.” Because I’m afraid that if you do kiss me, I’d want more.

  “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

  “Holding hands is fine. A dance actually would be nice. It’s been a while since I’ve had a dance.”

  “Same here.”

  “So, we can have a dance. And I understand the situation. We need to look intimate. You can whisper something in my ear if you want. We can hold hands, and you can place your hand on my back. But that’s where it needs to end.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That should be simple enough. I’ll warn you that I’m not much of an actor.”

  “Neither am I. I guess we’ll each have to find our way. But we do have chemistry together, Jennifer. I saw it on your face when you turned to leave the building the other day. You probably saw it on mine.”

  “I was too busy picking up resumes,” I lied.

  “If you take the job, you won’t need them any longer.”

  Don’t be a fool and think too much about this.

  I looked at him, and decided to see how serious he was. “All right,” I said. “I’ll take the job. But the salary needs to be adjusted to three hundred thousand dollars.”

  He didn’t flinch. “That’s fine.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me? I kept my features neutral. “Perfect. When do I start?”

  “Tonight,” he said. “There’s an event at The Four Seasons. Eight p.m.”

  “Tonight?” I said. “But I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “You will soon. Ms. Blackwell is going to take care of that for you now. Get what you want. She has a good fashion sense and knows how you should dress for tonight’s occasion. Tomorrow morning, you two will shop for rest of the week. All clothes and anything else you buy are yours to keep, but I need to make sure that you never wear the same thing twice.”

  “You’re saying that to a woman as if that’s a bad thing?”

  “You have a point.”

  “I can keep the clothes?”

  “And the jewelry.”

  “There’s jewelry involved?”

  He smiled at me, and as much as I knew I shouldn’t react to that smile, I nevertheless felt it cut through me like a blade. He was devastatingly handsome when he smiled. But as much as I was attracted to him, I knew I had to think of him more like a brother. I could not fall for him. This was a business transaction. Period. That’s how he viewed it, so that’s how I needed to view it.

  “There’s lots of jewelry involved,” he said. “My girlfriend would only have the best of everything, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Ms. Blackwell will take care of that, as well.”

  “Am I using my own name?”

  “You are. And your own story. You’re from Maine—feel free to talk about that. You recently graduated with your master’s in business—talk about that, too. Ms. Blackwell has all the details about how we met and got to know one another. Make sure you read them carefully and memorize them.” He winked at me. “We need to have our schtick down, Jennifer. We need to make the wolves believe so I can get my work done.”

  CHAPT

  ER THIRTEEN

  “Well, look at you,” Ms. Blackwell said. “Your hair is down. I’m assuming you took the job? Of course you did. Good for you.”

  I was standing outside her office, having just come from my meeting with Alex. I was in a bit of a daze, but I tried not to let it show. Blackwell, sharp as ever, nevertheless saw it.

  “You’ll be fine,” she said. “And you have to admit, it’s a sweet job. I think you’ll be pleased. I’ve known Alex since he was a boy. He’s a good man and he has a big heart, which he fiercely protects. Thus this new position for you. After all he’s been through, he does not want to be involved with anyone now. It’s too distracting. But he’s a gentleman and he’ll do right by you, Jennifer.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “I assume I can call you Jennifer.”

  “Of course.”

  “For me, it always will be Ms. Blackwell.”

  I couldn’t help a smile. Which is likely why you’re getting a divorce. “That’s fine.”

  She touched her hair, which was dyed black and cut in a severe, angular bob that suited her personality. “I can’t exactly break my tough-as-nails reputation around here now, can I? You understand.”

  She stood and reached for the pair of glasses next to her computer. “I hear we’re going shopping,” she sa
id. “And we don’t have much time to get it done before tonight. So, where to first? Bergdorf? Tough to go wrong there. And then, I think Cartier. Some diamond studs. A beautiful ring and bracelet. And obviously a necklace. Something classic. That’s what the night calls for.”

  “He told me I could keep everything.”

  “That’s right. Perks. And don’t forget, dear. He’s a billionaire. Whatever we buy today, tomorrow and going forward is a drop in the Wenn bucket.”

  She grabbed a piece of paper off her desk and handed it to me. “This is how you two met. In the car, commit it to memory. It’s not much, but you need to have it down. You’ll wing it a lot when you’re together with him tonight—I have a feeling you two will riff off each other. But what’s on that piece of paper is your script. Don’t ever deviate from it.”

  “Noted.”

  “There’s a car waiting downstairs for us. What time is it?” She checked her watch. “Christ. It’s already past one. We need to move on this. Tonight’s important to him, and we are not going to disappoint.”

  “What is tonight, anyway?”

  “Another benefit. This one to support the Met, which is one of the bigger events. It’s not their gala, which is why it’s at the Four Seasons, but everyone will be there, so no pressure. It’s another way for him to make the sort of connections that will keep Wenn Enterprises moving forward. He never wanted the position his father put him in, but Alex always does what’s right, despite how his parents treated him. He’s determined to keep the company growing, but lately, that’s been difficult for him. Too many women trying to catch the eye of the eligible bachelor. That’s where you step in.”

  “So, I gathered.”

  “Come on, princess,” Ms. Blackwell said as she moved past me. “We need a dress, shoes, undergarments, and jewels—in that order. And STAT. I don’t know how we’re going to fit that ass of yours into a dress without tailoring, but we’ll do it. Hopefully. And, no, that wasn’t an insult. It was envy. Every woman wishes she had a body like yours.”