“Wow. Beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Slade agreed, and then I noticed he was looking at me as he said it. “This place is pretty cool too.”
“Awww honey.”
“I can tell from this place that you sure made an impression on the Lewis Holdings CEO. Not that I'm surprised.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “He'd be stupid not to give you this shot.”
The CEO of Lewis Holdings Incorporated, Mr. Matt Lewis, was the reason we were here in New York. I had kept his business card after the pitch we made at the Pet Adoption House. In mid-January, I summoned the courage to send him an email with my resume and cover letter. I needed to stand out, so I included an executive summary laying out a few more ideas on integrating pet adoption drives into established pet shelter channels.
Mr. Lewis didn't reply right away, but by the end of that month, I got a response from him, letting me know that his executive assistant would be in touch to coordinate a time to meet. Marjorie, the executive assistant contacted me within minutes of his email, providing two possible dates Mr. Lewis could see me. The first option was in late March, which would have been less than ideal, with project work to hand in and exam preparation. Thank goodness this second date worked perfectly. After I had sent my preferred date to her, she didn't just set up a time to meet. Marjorie emailed me a travel itinerary, complete with flight and hotel information for a two-night stay.
Slade was so excited for me, he offered to tag along. “It's your time to shine,” he'd said.
My time to shine.
I liked that, and I'd wholeheartedly agreed to him coming. The NFL combine was only weeks away at the time, and Pro Day right after that. Each event brought him closer to his destiny and made me value this time we were together that much more. Who knew where his future would take him. Or us.
For now, we were here.
In Midtown Manhattan.
I was nervous as hell. I only had about ninety minutes after checking in to get dressed for my interview at the company’s Empire State Building headquarters. That was no time at all in my wound up state. Just as I expected, an hour later I was hopping into a yellow cab and on my way. I looked down at my outfit—a navy one-button jacket with matching pencil skirt, a white, fitted button-down shirt, and four-inch navy pumps. My hair was down past my shoulders, but I brushed it out of my face and hopefully all that hair product would hold it in place. I pulled out my compact from my purse and checked my makeup. I’d just applied a bit of mascara, nude blush, and matte pale pink lipstick. All good. I was dressed well and I’d been preparing what I planned to say for weeks.
The taxi dropped me off at the entrance, and all my nerves came right back. It hit me.
I had an interview.
At the Empire State Building.
This could be the job to give my career a solid foundation for years to come.
I had to make it count.
I entered the building fifteen minutes early, finding my way to the staff elevators using the directions the executive assistant had provided. I got up to the floor, and as the doors opened, Mr. Matt Lewis was standing there. I stepped off the elevator, somewhat stunned and out of sorts, but with my hand extended for a handshake in case he was there intentionally to meet me.
“Hello, Mr. Lewis. It’s good to see you again. I was sure I still had ten minutes or so before my interview time.”
He gave me a curious look before recognition dawned on his face. “Good afternoon, Miss Greyson. Unfortunately, a pressing item has come up. We’ll need to reschedule.” My heart sank. He pointed to the left down a long hall. “Speak with Marjorie at the workstation down at the end there. She’ll set up another time.” Smiling, he gave me a nod and stepped on the elevator.
I spun around on my pumps and held the elevator doors. “I wish I could reschedule, Mr. Lewis, but I just flew in from Baton Rouge and will only be here until Sunday afternoon.”
“I see.” He looked at his watch, then back at my fingers clenched on the side to hold the elevator doors open. “Get on, Ms. Greyson.” I did, and after the doors had closed, he studied me for a few seconds, then he said, “It’s a twenty-minute drive to my next meeting. That’s all you’ll have, but my guess is you won’t need it.”
Shit. I guess I was a bit too pushy. Now I had to impress the hell out of him during a car ride across town. “Thanks, Mr. Lewis.”
“Where did Marjorie put you up for your stay?”
“The Westin at Times Square.”
“That’s in the other direction. Tell you what, after your pitch, my driver will take you back to your hotel.”
This was no ordinary interview, I gathered. He was expecting a pitch, and because I’d practically hijacked his time, I’d put all that pressure on myself to make a pitch for God knows what at the back of his limo. “I’ll make it work, sir.”
He nodded.
We stepped off the elevator at a parking level, and he led the way to a black town car. His driver was standing beside it, holding a rear passenger door open for us.
“Your time starts now, Ms. Greyson.”
“Just so I’m clear, are we discussing the executive summary I sent to you by email, or more in general about the skills that make me a solid candidate for a position somewhere in your organization?”
“Let’s try for both.”
I sucked in a breath as the driver took off, we began our chat, and the conversation didn’t stop until we were parked outside a modern office tower.
“Thank you, Ms. Greyson. I can tell you’ve done a lot of legwork for this proposal. You were persistent, prepared and able to think on your feet. I’d say that both you and your idea shows promise.” He checked the time again. “I’ve got about a minute left before I must leave. So, down to brass tacks. There’s a vacant junior marketing associate position here at the head office that may be a fit for you. I’d need you to meet with the Marketing VP. He prefers a teleconference as he travels so much. The position is here in New York. When can you start?”
I hesitated.
Why was I hesitating?
What I needed to say was ‘I can start right away, sir,’ or ‘Would Monday work so I can move a few things into town from Baton Rouge?’ or ‘I’ll just need a week to find a place and get settled in, sir.’ None of those logical responses came out of my mouth.
“I…well I’m…is there any chance at all you can give me a week to confirm?”
He paused as he was about to step out of the already open door that the limo driver had come around to open on his side. “Are you in the running for positions at other firms?”
“Well no, but…” I struggled to admit the reason for my indecision. This was exactly what I wanted, except I had no idea where Slade would end up.
“Thirty seconds, Ms. Greyson.”
I did it.
I spat it out, telling him my reluctance was because New York would only be manageable if Slade were drafted into one of maybe three NFL teams. After I had said it, I wanted to slap myself. When did I become the girl who held off on life-altering career decisions because of a man? Apparently today.
Mr. Lewis nodded. “Not a problem.”
“Pardon me?”
“Speak to Marjorie when you get back to your hotel. If you make it through your three-month probationary period, which I have no doubt you will, the VP of Marketing can have you report in at any one of our fifteen office locations across the US. She can set everything up after you meeting with the VP. I do need to go now. Impressive work, Ms. Greyson. Send my best to Mr. Clark for the NFL drafts next week.”
He went into the building, and the driver got back in the limo and drove me to the hotel. All the way there, I was wondering whether I was dreaming. Sure, this job wasn’t a hundred percent set in stone. I still had to meet with that VP, but at least I was still in the running, plus the idea of working in one of fifteen possible locations was way better than just New York.
By the time the thought of phoning Slade crossed my mind, I w
as back in front of our hotel. I thanked the driver and hopped out. Slade wasn’t expecting me for at least an hour or two. He could have been out site-seeing or may have already found the hotel gym by now. All of a sudden, I couldn’t wait to tell him. I hurried to the elevators and made it up to our floor. As I tugged out the room key card to swipe it, Slade opened the door, dressed in a white dress shirt and dark gray dress slacks.
“Hey. That was fast. I was just about to head out to see if I’d catch you outside the Empire State Building after your interview ended. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great!” I declared, wrapping my arms around his neck right there at the front door.
“You got the job?” He sounded so excited for me. There wasn’t even a hint of sadness or concern that my getting a job in this city probably meant we’d end up living in different parts of the country.
“It’s a strong maybe.” I stepped inside, and he led me to the living area, taking a seat in the camel-colored upholstered leather sofa.
“Tell me all about it,” he said, pulling me to sit in his lap.
I took off my shoes and snuggled up against him before getting a word out. Right now I couldn’t verbalize it, but I was in awe of just how much I really loved this man. I needed these few minutes to have him all to myself, with no family, no teammates, no frat buddies, and no friends.
Just the two of us.
“You kinda got me worried here Cass,” he whispered, waiting for me to say something.
I smiled into his neck, then I sat up and told him everything. He seemed just as impressed, maybe a bit more.
“I think it’s great,” he started, then took a few seconds to continue, as though he needed to gather up more than a few things to say and wasn’t sure how to tell me.
“I don't know how this happened or if I've felt this way all along, Cassidy. All I’m sure about is you mean so much to me, and I want you with me. Now and tomorrow and beyond… I understand that being with me creates a lot of unknowns for you and your career. The drafts are in a week…who knows what team will pick me. I can't say I have an answer to that, except for my promise that I will support you and your career decisions, even if it means not being in the same city together one hundred percent of the time.”
He placed a hand on the back of my neck and held me to his chest, kissing my forehead. “You're going places too, Cassidy. I can just see you building yourself a successful career all on your own, with me behind you, supporting you all the way if you’ll let me. The point I’m trying to make is I want to be the one standing at your side and cheering you on from the sidelines, whether I make it to the NFL or not.”
I looked into his face, wrapping my arms around his neck. I never expected to hear him share something so selfless. “God, Slade. That means more to me than you can ever know.”
“I meant every word. I love you, Cassidy. I can't picture a future without you in it.”
“And I love you, baby.”
I nestled into his neck, my heart bursting as he held me for a while longer.
Slade and I relaxed in the hotel room for a few hours, and later on we headed out for a walk before dinner. We made it to Times Square and looked around for a while, then he stopped short at the kitty corner of the New York Times Building, checking the time. This wasn't the first time he'd looked at his watch in the last few minutes.
“Everything all right?”
“It's better than all right. There's something I want to show you…right over there.”
He pointed to the billboard at the top of the One Times Square tower, just as it flickered from a Chanel commercial and went black for a few seconds.
“Is there something specific I should be looking—” my jaw dropped when I saw it. The billboard flickered back on with a floating message that ran across the screen and read, ‘Cassidy Greyson, I love you so much. Will you marry me? Love, Slade Clark’.
Barely able to breathe, I turned to Slade, who was reaching into the pocket of his slacks. He knelt down before me, retrieving a big, bright, sparkling diamond ring. I was hyperventilating when he presented it up to me from his spot on the concrete sidewalk and said, “We're here at the center of the universe, the crossroads of the world, and no matter where life takes us, we belong together. As God and all these people as my witness, Cassidy Amelia Greyson, I love you. Will you marry me?”
I was nodding excitedly before the word ‘marry’ escaped his lips, and shaking like a leaf as I cleared my throat and told him, “Yes! I will…I love you so much… God, yes of course I'll marry you, baby!”
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Go Deep: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 18
