Yeah, sure. Queen of Coffee Fetching. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
Sandra’s eyes gleamed. “Now I’m intrigued. At least it’s not secretarial. I had to work my way out of that pool downstairs, you know. And in the nineties, that wasn’t easy. I got my degrees while working and raising two kids on my own. You are so far ahead of the game.”
Juliana signed and initialed the forms and accepted her final check without further comment, stunned by the arrogance of John Felix. She’d been mid project at Ames, Inc., about to close her first really big deal and anxious to have that notch in her belt before she left. But one word from Mr. Arrogance and her whole life was up in the air.
Boxing up the detritus of two years with Ames, the one company gracious enough to overlook her age and offer her an excellent position right out of school, she couldn’t decide what to do. Yes, she was anxious to begin her new job, her new life. But she had told John Felix she’d start in two weeks. He’d made an arrogant move and changed her plans without so much as checking with her, and if she did rush and fly off to California, she’d be setting a precedent that could lead to problems in the future.
After all, they’d be working “closely” together, and what if he thought that meant he could call anytime of the day or night and demand she leap to some task. Dumping her top desk drawer into the plastic box provided by HR—a thoughtful touch for those being tossed out the door—she grabbed her phone and texted Sarabeth.
J - What the hell was your boss thinking?
S – Why? What do you mean?
J - He apparently called my boss, now my former boss, and had them boot me early.
S – He what?
J - I’m cleaning out my desk now. But I have half a mind not to show up there.
S – Hang on. I’ll call you in five minutes.
Which was just long enough to finish loading things into the box and flip the double plastic lids closed. In two years she’d not bothered to decorate the office beyond a small snapshot of her mother and stepdad on the desk and a blue and white china piggy bank she’d carried with her everywhere since leaving home. She caressed his chipped left ear, a casualty of her move from college dorm to grad school apartment, before laying him gently in the box.
A moment later, Juliana grabbed her phone and held it to her ear before it finished the first ringtone. “Sarabeth, I’m so angry.”
A long silence met her words, and she glanced at the screen. Unknown number. Finally, as she was ready to hang up, he spoke. “Hello, Juliana.”
Holy… “Hello, John.” Icicles hung from her words. As she intended.
“I understand you heard about my call to Madden back there.”
“I did.” She bit back the spate of angry syllables threatening to spill from her lips. “Did you really call Mr. Madden and ask him to fire me?”
She thought she heard a choking sound, but his voice was smooth as dark velvet. “You were not fired. If I understand correctly, your resignation was accepted.”
Juliana could just see him there, sitting in that high-backed leather executive chair, looking out at his kingdom. “I gave two weeks’ notice.”
“Most companies will let you leave right away when you are going to a competitor. Did your letter give that information?”
She rolled her eyes. “No.”
“Am I incorrect in assuming you would like to start working here as soon as possible? Or have you changed your mind about accepting the position?”
Was there a more infuriating man anywhere? She could have just stayed in New York, moved up in this company or another, but nooo. Nothing but Felix Industries would do for her.
“Miss MacKay?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll expect you the day after tomorrow at eight.”
“Fine.”
She hadn’t even begun to pack.
Miss MacKay?
John hung up the phone and turned to find Sarabeth still glowering at him. “I thought you’d left by now.”
“How long have you known her name?”
He blew out a long breath. “Only since Madden mentioned it. I decided I would help you out, let you get started on your new life a little sooner, and I remembered that her boss had been in a couple of my classes in grad school. So I called, and after we began to talk, can you imagine…I didn’t know her last name and I wondered why.”
Sarabeth dropped into the guest chair. “Did you?”
“I grabbed the file and looked for it. Still no name. Anywhere. Would you think I’d be suspicious something was up?”
The stiff shouldered anger she’d worn on her entrance to his office a few minutes before sagged. “I suppose.”
He nodded briskly. “Exactly. But I was already mid call, so I said, George, do you have a junior exec named Juliana floating around that place? And he said…can you guess what he said?”
“Quit playing games, John.”
“What did he say, Sarabeth?”
“Okay, he said, ‘Do you mean Juliana MacKay?’ Why didn’t you hang up right then if you’re so anxious to avoid the MacKays?”
John stood and came around the desk to loom over her. “Because, thanks to you, I already offered her the job and signed the contract. I can’t fire her for her last name.”
“Well, actually you can. Our right-to-work contract states that no reason for dismissal need be given.” She flashed him a cheeky smile, and he struggled not to grab her shoulders and shake her. Once he’d have kissed her, but the impulse had thankfully disappeared.
“And, as you know, the clause is in there at our lawyer’s insistence, and we have never used it. Nobody deserves to be sent out into the cold world not knowing why.”
She pushed to her feet. “Oh-kay, John. Very righteous there. But it’s me you’re talking to, and I know all the signs of attraction. I like Juliana for the job. She’s extraordinary in so many ways but if you like her, remember that for all her skill and brains, she’s twenty. And naïve. I never would have brought her here if I thought you’d be interested in her.”
“You’ve tried to set me up so many times and with so many MacKays…”
“Not this one.” Tapping his chest, she moved in close. “Juliana is not ready for someone like you. But she’ll do a great job for you. Behave.” As she turned on her heel and sailed out into the waiting room, he stared after her. Who was she to tell him who to date?
Of course he had no interest in little Miss Juliana MacKay anyway. Even if she wasn’t only twenty with rosy cheeks and blue eyes and curves that went on for miles, she’d still be his PA, a business-only relationship. If he’d ever not known that, his time with Sarabeth had taught him better.
Strolling over to the window, he watched the Golden Gate Bridge disappear into an incoming storm. Rain streaked the glass, hiding anything past his brother’s building and turning that into a watercolor blur of lights and movement behind their windows. How simple James’s life was with his business and the nursery to retreat to in Cedar Valley. And Sarabeth.
The sooner she got her replacement trained and left, the sooner things would get back to normal. Business as usual. He’d marry someday, but he had plenty of time to meet the right person. Why didn’t everyone understand that he wanted time to heal? To move on. To forget the hurt and utter humiliation of standing outside the church and watching his bride fly away in the amazing solar-powered balloon he’d developed.
Testing his heart like poking a sore tooth with his tongue, he found it a little less raw, but once burned twice shy. Time. He had so many business projects happening, a whole new country they’d be entering in the less than two months, and more than enough to keep himself busy without romance cluttering up his life.
Thank heavens Sarabeth had finally seen sense. He’d half expected her to use the job search to parade possible girlfriends through the office. Happy couples had Noah syndrome…wanting everyone else to pair up, no matter their wishes and desires. Instead, she’d brought him someone she considered
completely unsuitable for dating. Correctly so. And if Juliana was a MacKay, it was only because they seemed to comprise half the population, at least in his world. He’d graciously look past her last name and incredible curves, fresh-faced beauty and heart-melting smile to the intellect and gift she would bring to his company.
He’d keep it in his pants this time and not make a move they’d both regret.
John Felix, III, age twenty-eight, was in business mode. No girls allowed.
Chapter Three
Please be prepared to greet the movers at eight tomorrow morning. Your boarding pass and flight itinerary, as well as temporary accommodations will be emailed to you separately. Any questions may be addressed to this number.
Juliana rode down the escalator at San Francisco International Airport, her wheeled carry-on one step below her. She’d made the arrangements for the move in hyperdrive. Luckily, her roommate had been delighted to keep most of the furnishings they’d collected together over their two years in the apartment. She’d also been thrilled when Juliana promised to pay one more month’s rent to give her time to find someone to take her place.
Felix Industries offered an excellent moving service to their new employees, and the day after she’d left Ames, a crew was at her door with boxes and tape and big hunky guys who’d packed all her clothing and personal items, along with her grandmother’s antique bedroom set, onto a truck. An hour later, a car whisked her off to the airport where, for the first time in her life, she traveled first class across the country. Since she’d been too keyed up to sleep the night before, she’d half dozed in the big, cushy seat and missed out on most of the advantages of her improved status. Including food.
As a result, in her beat-up jeans and rumpled NYU hoodie, she felt, and probably looked, like she’d been sleeping on a street corner instead of the luxurious lie-down seat in the plane. But she’d grab a taxi to the hotel and get situated before going to the office the next day. Maybe even start looking for an apartment. She wasn’t sure how long the company intended her to stay in a hotel at their expense, but once she’d begun working, it would likely be difficult to find time. So in her deluded, exhausted, marginally shell shocked state, she thought perhaps she’d find a cozy little place to call home before crashing for the night.
At the bottom of the escalator, a row of men in dark suits held up signs. As she rolled her case past them, she became aware of a familiar name right in front of her. Of course. She’d been picked up in New York—why would she expect to take a cab in San Francisco. Felix Industries’ reputation as a great company to work for was certainly playing out. Of course, after today, she’d be just one more lowly new worker, but welcome to San Francisco.
“I’m Juliana MacKay,” she told the tall, Scandinavian-looking God who held up the sign with her name on it.
He gave her a nod, almost a bow, and took the handle of her carry-on. “Do you have checked baggage, miss?”
“Yes, two bags.” She handed over her tickets. “Dark blue with rainbow ribbon tied on the handles.” The suitcases held mostly business attire. The other items would be a few days, according to the movers so she’d packed her bags with her suits and shoes in anticipation of a busy week. The driver’s impeccable attire made her feel even more travel rumpled and wishing she’d dressed a little nicer. But nobody else who would care would see her and in the whirlwind of instantaneous moving, she’d just stayed comfortable.
Juliana followed the giant to the luggage carousels and perched on a bench while the first bags from her flight came down the ramp and made their slow way around the long, stainless steel oval. More suitcases slid down, and people gathered them and left until only she and her driver remained by the empty carousel.
“This isn’t good,” she murmured.
“No, miss. But they may arrive later. I’ll go file a report at the missing luggage office so we can be on our way.”
Did drivers provide that service? She’d had no idea. “I can do it.”
“My job.” He waited until she gave a reluctant nod. “I’ll just be a moment.”
Juliana remained on her bench with her carry-on beside her while the driver spoke with a woman in a small booth and returned to have her note the general contents of her bag. A few moments later, she trailed him out of the airport and to a nearby VIP parking garage area. She tried not to panic. With only the contents of her small wheeled bag, she had the option of wearing jeans, yoga pants, leggings patterned with beer mugs—a gag gift from her roommate which had become her favorite lounging attire—or a nighty to the office. She’d be sure to make a great impression on her new coworkers.
Pausing beside a long black car, she waited while the driver opened the door for her. As she slid in, she asked, “Do you think you can recommend a store where I can pick up a business suit or two today? If those cases don’t come in tonight, I’m going to need something to wear to work tomorrow besides”—she waved her arms at her ensemble—“this. And I’m pretty sure the airline doesn’t care.”
“The company jet is in the shop or I’d have sent it.” The deep, smooth voice came from the shadowy depth of the vehicle. “If my flight crew loses the luggage, they get fired.”
She paused with one bun on the seat. “Mr. Felix? Is that you?” Of course it was. What an inane question.
“John, remember? So the airline lost your luggage?”
“Cliché, isn’t it, but yes.” She settled on the seat opposite him with a gusty sigh. “Leaving me with only casual clothes in my carry-on so nothing appropriate for the office tomorrow.”
“Today.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I need you in the office this afternoon. Sarabeth had to leave for a family emergency, and we have a full schedule.”
Juliana twisted her hands in her lap, pushed past her comfort zone by all the rapid change. She’d used up all her energy to get to this point, but she’d counted on the afternoon to start to house hunt. Or, as things had rolled, to buy a business suit. Under no circumstances was she ready to start her new job today in jeans. “I can’t.”
His frown brought his dark brows close together. “Of course you can. That’s why I picked you up just now. To take you to the office. So we can get to work.”
“I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I have nothing to wear to work. At your request I moved out here in two days. Did I mention I have nothing to wear?” The pent-up emotions of the past couple of days flooding her, she burst into tears. Between shuddering sobs, she got out, “I never cry.”
John stared at his new assistant, at a complete loss. He’d made her move so smooth, had put all the resources of his company at her disposal…save the jet, which was currently in the shop. “For your first assignment, please make a note to order a second company jet so this never happens again.”
She lifted her head, her face a perfect picture of woe, and before he could stop himself, he was next to her, cradling her head on his shoulder and murmuring soothing nonsense. “It will be fine. Wait just one moment.” He tapped on the window between the front and back seats, and it rolled back.
“Yes, sir?” “Olaf, we need to stop somewhere so my new assistant can get an appropriate outfit for the office. Do you know where we might be able to do that?”
“I can recommend a small boutique on the way to the office. They should be able to accommodate Miss Juliana.”
“Very good. Will they also have shoes?” Her sneakers might be fine for moving day, but they’d never work in the tower office.
“Yes, sir.”
“Take us there, then.”
Juliana still sniffled softly, and he ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing it and stroking, wanting to make her feel better. She rested on his chest, occasionally hiccupping. Finally she pushed to sit upright, but he eased her back down.
“Rest awhile, Juliana. I know it’s been a busy day, but once you’re in a suit you’ll feel better.” He always did.
“I don’t know how much good I’ll be to y
ou, John. I’m a wreck.”
“Sshh.” Without thinking, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Let me treat you to a suit to make up for the inconvenience.”
Her shoulders shook, and she choked. Terrified he’d started her off again, that his new PA was going to burst into tears every other minute, he tipped her chin up, but what he saw was not grief but dancing blue eyes. “Are you laughing?”
She doubled up, folded over her lap, and, yes, laughing. “I’m”—she gasped—“sorry, but my inconvenience? I apply for a job, and the next thing I know my boss has been talked into cutting me loose, and a day later I’m in San Francisco with nothing to wear, on my way to work without even a chance to take my very limited belongings to wherever it is I might be living temporarily. This is more than inconvenient. This is unsettling.”
“Unsettling?” Who said that word aloud? “How old are you, using old lady terms like that?”
“Twenty,” she bit out, “as well you know.”
“At least you’re not crying anymore.”
Ducking out from under his arm, she curled up in the corner of the seat. “Sorry to have bothered you. Can we drive through McDonald’s or something?”
“We can do better than that.” He leaned forward and spoke quietly to the driver then slid the window closed again. “Okay, let’s go shopping.”
He sounded cheerful, but Juliana eyed him suspiciously. “And food?”
“I’ve made arrangements.” As she straightened, more and more abashed by leaning on her boss and having a meltdown, he stretched an arm over the back of the seat behind her, his hand resting casually on her shoulder. His pose matched the easy grin he wore. “I haven’t been dress shopping in a long time. Probably since my mother dragged me.”
Oh God. “You don’t have to come with me. Just drop me off, and I’ll catch a cab to the office as soon as I get into a jacket and skirt.” Dress shopping with his mom?
Melody Anne's Billionaire Universe: The Billionaire Stands Alone (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Mackay Destiny Book 6) Page 2
