by M. S. Parker
And what in the world was Dominic Snow doing at the door?
“Dominic,” I said.
“Aleena,” he said. To say he looked puzzled was an understatement.
Glad to know I wasn’t the only one.
“How did you know where I lived?”
Had I come to the wrong place? What were the odds?
Of course, if my brain hadn’t been slightly alcohol-logged, maybe I would have been quicker on the uptake. Dominic Snow. The Winter Corporation. Clever. Dominic was the frickin’ CEO—I’d bet my ass on it.
He took a step towards me and it took all my willpower not to put some distance between us. He smelled far too good, but if I moved, it’d be an admission.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, a faint smile kicking up the corners of his mouth. “And, don’t take this wrong, but how did you find me?”
Self-preservation made me take a step back. “I’m here for a job interview.”
The frown returned to his face. “I don’t understand.”
“I was told to come here for a second interview with the CEO of the Winter Corporation.” I forced myself to keep my eyes on his face. I also told myself I wasn’t at all curious about what lie under that towel. I was a big fat liar.
“An interview with me?”
“Which you would have known about had you answered your phone this morning.” A woman’s voice came from somewhere inside the vast space behind Dominic.
Dominic and I followed the sound of the voice.
I recognized Fawna right away. She stood framed in the wide, arched doorway of what looked to be a gorgeous kitchen. She nodded at me and then said, “Dominic, let the young lady inside, please.”
He rolled his eyes and stepped aside, waving me in. Then he glanced at Fawna. “I would’ve answered my phone if you would’ve called.” Dominic shut the door as he spoke.
Fawna held up a phone. “And you would’ve heard my call if you’d remembered to turn on your ringer.”
Dominic winced, but it faded quickly, replaced by an engaging grin. “Aleena Davison, meet Fawna Harris, my...what did we decide your official title was?”
“Babysitter?” Fawna folded her arms across her chest and turned to me. “I apologize for the miscommunication, Ms. Davison. If I’d known Dominic was going to be parading around half-naked, I would’ve tried to get here earlier.”
“I…” I started to make the typical Oh, it’s fine, that’s okay, I understand prattle, but in the end, honestly won out. “I don’t understand.”
“The position I want to hire you for is mine,” Fawna said. “I’m not part of the Winter Corporation. Not exactly. I work directly for Dominic. I run his personal life. Basically, I’m his personal assistant.” She ignored the sound of protest Dominic made and I kept my eyes on her. “I also coordinate with the household managers both here and at his house in the Hamptons to keep things running smoothly, for both day to day events and the occasional party.”
“Your job?” I hoped I sounded professionally confused rather than completely clueless about life in general.
“I need to retire soon.” Her expression was tight and I didn’t even consider asking for a reason. “And I need someone to take over who can handle him.”
“I don’t need to be handled.” Dominic’s tone was mild.
At the same time, I was stuck on the words ‘handle him’. Was it terribly wrong that I wanted to take over the job of handling him? Just not the way she most likely intended. A blush heated my face and I shifted my gaze between the two of them. Clearing my throat, I said, “I’m not entirely sure I’m the right person for this job.”
“Ten minutes ago, I would probably have agreed with you,” Dominic said. He still stood there wearing nothing more than a towel—and he didn’t seem at all concerned by that fact, either. “But you didn’t bat an eyelash when I opened the door. For the way you’re acting, I might as well be dressed in a three piece suit—or in rags. You don’t seem to care one way or the other.”
Oh, I care. I lifted a brow. “Is there a point to this, Mr. Snow?”
“You called me Dominic just a few minutes ago,” he said, eying me closely. Then he shrugged. “The point is…Fawna’s job doesn’t deal only with the business side of my life. Let’s just say this isn’t the first time she’s walked in on me wearing a towel.”
“What exactly are you saying?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm.
It was hard, though. Something close to hope beat to life inside me, but I kept it under control.
Dominic looked at Fawna. She smiled and then looked at me. “I liked you for this almost from the first, Aleena. If you’re interested in the job, I think you’d be a good fit. There will be some…well, let’s call it on the job training, but if you’re as sharp as I think you are, you’ll catch on fast. For…unexpected reasons, I’m retiring at the end of the month. That’s three weeks from now. That can be your probationary period and I’ll be on hand to train you and help out with any questions, although I’m only on hand six hours a day—Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.” She paused and then asked softly, “Are you interested?”
I swallowed and reached up to touch the necklace I wore.
Dominic’s gaze followed my fingers.
“Are you interested?” Dominic asked when I stayed quiet.
“Ah…”
“Dominic, why don’t you go get dressed?” Fawna suggested softly.
He opened his mouth as though to argue and then sighed, pushing a hand through his still-damp hair.
As he left us alone, Fawna took my arm and guided me over to the low, plush couch. At that moment, it looked as long and as wide as a river. We sat and she reached for a folder that had been sitting on the table. “Here’s the job description,” she said. “I understand you’ve never worked as a personal assistant before, but you’ve already made it clear that you have broad interests and you’re organized. Organization is the most important thing for this job. The second…well, as Dominic noted, you didn’t just gape at him when he opened the door.”
I licked my lips and slid her a quick glance. “Ever heard the phrase fake it until you make it?”
“I have.” She pursed her lips as she studied me. “You faked it very well then.”
She placed the job description in my hand and I looked down to read it over.
“As you can see, you’ll help handle his day to day activities, dealing with his travel plans, his correspondence—and he gets a lot of it. Some of it will be confidential and you’ll be required to sign a non-disclosure agreement.” Her voice became firm and I glanced up at her. Once she was sure she had my attention, she continued. “If you disclose any of his personal information, Aleena, there will be consequences. I’m certain you’re discreet, but it’s very important you understand this.”
“I understand,” I said.
“Excellent.” She nodded back to the sheet of paper. “His travel plans can sometimes be irksome—he’ll schedule a trip, then change his mind, and then change it again. Parties…well, those are a nuisance, but once he lets you know what he has in mind and the venue, you’ll contact the person who runs that chosen venue to handle the details. For instance, if it’s here, the household manager is Ramirez. Ramirez would manage most of the details and he will be happy to guide you through anything he needs your help with.”
“That…” I blew out a breath. “This doesn’t sound too overwhelming.”
“The first few weeks will be,” she said bluntly. “Just be advised.”
“The first weeks of any new job usually are.” I managed a weak smile. Then I asked the question I’d been almost too afraid to ask. “What’s the job pay?”
“It’s salary.” She named a figure that made my jaw drop. And it dropped even more when she said, “There is a raise every year based on performance, top of the line health coverage, a retirement package and, of course, living quarters.”
“Ah…living…” I cleared my throat, unsure if I he
ard her right. “Living quarters?”
She smiled. “Yes. There’s a suite on the second floor here at the penthouse.”
I reached up and rubbed my forehead. I was starting to feel like I’d fallen down a rabbit hole. “Okay…what’s the bad news?”
“The hours,” she said bluntly. “Dominic can be a demanding boss. You can expect to work from seven in the morning to roughly six in the evening, five days a week. He expects his assistant to be on call and willing to work as needed on weekends. With that said, your weekends, generally, are your own.” She tucked her hair back and gave me a tired smile. “Currently, though, we’re working a lot on the weekends. Dominic is in the midst of opening a new business and it’s taking up a great deal of his time so he’ll need more from you—actually us—until that’s done. I told him I wanted to see this job through. We started it together, so I wanted to finish it together.”
Numb, I looked back down at the job description she’d given me.
Organizing parties.
Handling correspondence.
Travel plans.
Communicating with the household staff.
Staring at Dominic when he walked around in a towel—okay, that qualified as a bonus.
“I’m a waitress,” I said quietly. “I’ve got an associate’s degree in business. The closest I’ve come to organizing a party was when the local Girl Scouts asked if they could have a fund raiser at our restaurant and my dad put me in charge.”
“Oh?” Fawna smiled, seeming to be genuinely interested. “How did it go?”
“Pretty good.” I shrugged. “But it was small change compared to…this.”
“Do you need some time to think about it?” Fawna asked.
I took a deep breath. “No. Either I’m dreaming or I’ve just received the biggest break of my life.”
Fawna chuckled. “In a few weeks, you might think it was the worst break. Now…here’s the big question, because I know how things go when it comes to rental agreements in New York. How much notice do you need to give where you’re staying?”
7
Dominic
I didn’t let myself look back as I jogged upstairs to change.
But I couldn’t keep myself from looking down the hall toward Fawna’s suite.
Fawna’s suite was at the end of the hall. It wasn’t very big, but it had its own bathroom, a small kitchenette and a small living room.
She hadn’t been there or at the guest house in the Hamptons much lately, spending most of her time at the hospital. I’d gotten used to having her nearby. She was a friend—more than a friend, really.
Now somebody else would be living in those quarters.
Not just somebody.
Aleena.
Heat spread through me at the thought of having her so close by, but at the same time, there was also wariness. I don’t know how I felt about having her work under me. I’d rather just have her under me.
Sure, I’d wanted her to get a job, but this job?
No.
I dressed quickly, opting for comfort in jeans and a sweatshirt, since I wasn’t leaving the penthouse today.
A soft laugh caught my attention and I glanced toward the stairs—and Aleena.
What had I been thinking?
Was I being an idiot?
Or was I thinking with my cock instead of my head?
Fawna had been an easy choice. We generally saw eye-to-eye on how things should be done and she didn’t take bullshit from me—those were two very good reasons why she’d done so well as my assistant.
The third, and most important, reason, was that she’d always been there.
She’d been my English teacher when I was twelve and had found out that I was adopted. Through coincidence or fate, she’d been moved up a grade the following year and had been there for me when my parents divorced. She’d been the only one of my teachers to fight when I’d been expelled and the only one who’d checked in on me regularly.
She’d left teaching some years ago, but we’d stayed in touch. I’d reached out to her after I started my first company and offered her the job as my personal assistant.
She’d accepted and here she was, about to hand me off.
I headed back down the stairs, wondering if Aleena would still be there. She wasn’t, but Fawna was waiting on the couch. I sat down in the chair across from her.
“I thought you were going to give me a list of names,” I said. “Names that we’d go through together.”
She gave me that amused smile that said, no matter how old or rich I got, she would always see the hyper-active boy who none of the other teachers wanted to deal with. “I arranged for a second interview.”
“One that I didn’t know about.” Slumping in the seat, I stared at her.
She raised an eyebrow at me, staring until I had to concede the point. “All right, one that I would’ve known about if I’d paid attention.”
“Should we call her back and tell her we need a third interview? Or perhaps more time…?” she gave me an out.
Instead of answering, I leaned forward. “Why her? Out of almost a hundred people, you picked her as a possible candidate for your job?”
“No,” she said. “I picked her as the only candidate.”
“Okay,” I said. “That still doesn’t tell me why.”
“You told her about the interviews and put her name on the list.”
I stood up and went to the kitchen. I needed something to eat. Fawna followed.
“Dominic, if you hadn’t seen something in the girl in the first place, you wouldn’t have made a point of putting her name on the list.”
I sighed as I pulled out leftover pizza and put it on a plate. “It was my fault she got fired.”
“How was it your fault?”
Aggravated, I explained, ending with a pointed explanation of just what I’d like to do to that dickless dickhead Aleena had worked for.
“It doesn’t sound like it was anybody’s fault that he fired her—save for his ego,” Fawna said. She reached out and patted my cheek, keeping the contact light and quick. “Dominic, he was an ass. She had a mishap. It should have just been excused and forgotten about. It was kind that you tried to help.”
She eyed my pizza with disgust. “You know, the entire point of you having a professional chef four days a week is so you can have options—nutritional, tasty options—to choose from the other three.”
I grinned at her as I pushed the buttons on the microwave. “There’s only so much casserole and pasta that a man can eat.”
“I have a better idea—have him teach you to cook. That way, when you get bored with what he prepares you, you can start making your own food.”
I started to argue with her.
Then she played her trump card. “It would horrify your mother.”
“Huh.” The microwave dinged and I opened it, the rich, spicy tang of pizza flooding the air. “You’re right. It would.”
“A boy your age should be able to fend for himself—and exist on something other than pizza.”
Sending her a sidelong look, I said, “Nobody other than you calls me a boy, Fawna.”
She gave me the look that had stopped me in my tracks back when I’d been in her sixth grade English class. I wasn’t in sixth grade anymore. Yet it still worked.
“Back to Aleena.” I tested the pizza. It was way too hot. That meant it was perfect. “She has a degree in office administration. I figured she’d get a spot as a secretary or maybe a desk clerk at one of the hotels.”
“It’s an associate’s degree and she has no experience.” She moved to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out a pitcher of lemonade. She held it up with a questioning look. After I nodded, she pulled down two glasses. “She likely would do fine working at one of the hotels, but Frank had her for an interview, and he saw…well, likely the same thing I do, possibly the same thing you do. She’s got spark, Dominic. She’s got the kind of honesty and backbone one needs to handle you—”
Unaware of my train of thought, Fawna offered me a glass of lemonade. I took it and gulped half of it down while she continued. “And she’s smart. I think she can handle this job, Dominic. But if you have doubts…”
“You don’t,” I said gruffly. Putting down the lemonade, I grabbed the hunk of pizza from my plate and bit in. After I’d swallowed the bite, I said, “You hired her.”
“You’re the CEO. You hired her.” She smiled at me.
She sipped at her lemonade. I finished up the first slice of pizza and devoured the second before either of us felt inclined to speak again.
“How’s the little guy doing?”
“Eli is…” She took a deep, steadying breath. “He’s doing well enough.” Her expression softened. “One more month. The doctors think he’ll be strong enough to leave the hospital in another month.”
I thought of the tiny little baby, struggling to live, a machine doing his breathing for him.
I reached over and caught Fawna’s hand. “You know that you and Eli are both welcome to live here or at the house for as long as you need. Just say the word.”
“I know,” Fawna said, giving me a fond smile. “But I’ve found a place outside the city.”
My hand tightened on hers while my throat clogged. I was losing a piece of myself and I knew it. I just didn’t know what to do about it. Actually, that was the problem—I knew what to do about it—nothing.
She needed a new start, her and her little grandson.
The past year had sucked. She’d lost her daughter and she’d nearly lost her grandbaby.
Shortly after she’d started working for me, her daughter, Kelsey, had dropped out of college and moved in with her boyfriend. At some point in the years that followed, Kelsey had gotten mixed up in drugs and it had gotten progressively worse.
