by Ami Snow
I wanted her to look up and see me. I also wanted to remain entirely hidden from view. My heart beat faster with an anxiety that I hadn’t felt in a very long time, and somewhere in the back of my head, I was entirely aware of how ridiculous this all was.
I saw her look up, and a flash of recognition cross her face, followed by disbelief. She shook her head and looked away, and I felt suddenly elated. She might have thought she was imagining things, but that meant she was thinking of me. I suddenly felt more hopeful about her chances.
The ceremony went by in a blur. All I could think about was what I would say to her once I finally caught up with her afterwards. As everyone started to file out, I tried to keep track of where she was going as I made my way through the crowd.
I finally saw her outside, in front of the fountain, her family starting to crowd around her. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.
I walked up to her, registering her shocked expression as she saw me, the series of emotions that flashed over her face. “Elizabeth,” I said. “I’ve come to offer you a job.”
She stared at me. Her parents looked confused, and I quickly held out my hand, professionalism taking over. “I’m Ethan Sharpe,” I introduced myself. “I’m the CEO of the company where Elizabeth interned this past semester, and I was very impressed with her performance.”
“Oh, how very kind of you!” her mother exclaimed. “Elizabeth, isn’t that wonderful?”
Elizabeth was giving me a very black look from where she stood beside her mother. Impressed with my performance? Her eyes seemed to be asking. Impressed with which performance, exactly?
I ignored her. “She was a very valuable asset to our company,” I continued, trying valiantly not to think of her personal assets, “and her absence has definitely been noticed these last few months.” I looked directly at her, then. “Elizabeth, I would like very much for you to come back to work for me.”
She looked at me. “Can we talk privately?”
I inclined my head. “Of course.”
We stepped away from her family, and hearing distance of her friends, and I had a feeling that this was going to go poorly.
Elizabeth stopped me finally, her hand lightly on my arm. Not too personal. “You know why I’m not coming back to work for you, Ethan. All that about needing me at the firm isn’t going to fool me.”
I sighed, exasperated. “Elizabeth, I’m being honest with you. You were an excellent employee, a fast learner, and a hard worker. I want to give you a job.”
“Do you want an employee, or someone you can fuck on your desk in the middle of the workday?” she hissed.
I frowned. “Are they mutually exclusive?”
Now she looked exasperated. “Yes, I think so.”
I sighed. “I don’t know, Elizabeth. Can’t you just come back and we can see how things go? I don’t really want to have to choose.”
“And if I decide I don’t want anything more than a job from you? What prevents you from firing me, and making sure I don’t get a job anywhere else in D.C.? What prevents you from making me start all over again somewhere new? I’ve heard the horror stories of women who have affairs with their bosses. It’s me that’s at the disadvantage here. No matter what, you have your company. I could be out of a job.”
“Elizabeth, I wouldn’t do that to you.’
“Words,” she hissed. “Those are words, and men say them all the time. I need something concrete. My career is too important to potentially throw away on words.”
I felt hurt, but I tried not to show it. I tried to think rationally. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll put in your employment contract that I cannot personally fire you. If you were to be terminated, it would have to be from a direct supervisor. I will also put that we promise you a letter of recommendation to the firm or firms of your choice if you are terminated or leave for any reason other than criminal activity. Would that suffice?”
Elizabeth was quiet for a long moment. “Yes,” she finally said. “That will work. Draw up the contract and send it to me, and I will sign it. I’ll need a week to move and an allowance for travel and moving expenses.”
“Done. The firm will provide an allowance for clothing as well.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she protested, but I cut her off with a smirk. “Actually, Elizabeth, that’s something we do for all employees who join us directly out of college. It’s meant to help them in their transition.”
She had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Well, thank you,” she said, and I smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you at work, Elizabeth. Since I’m sure you wouldn’t welcome me at dinner, I’ll say goodbye now.”
She did look embarrassed now. “If you want to come to lunch with my family, Ethan, you’re very welcome.”
I shook my head. “I actually am meeting some clients. I thought this trip should serve more than one purpose. I’ll see you in a week.”
I left her then, nodding to her parents as I strode across the grassy lawn to where my driver was waiting. I felt jubilant. It hadn’t been a waste of a trip after all. She was coming back to work. It wasn’t a guarantee of anything, but it was a start.
Chapter 2
Ellie
So that was how, a week later, I found myself standing in the center of a studio apartment in D.C., a pile of boxes stacked all around me. My parents had just left, after a whirlwind trip to IKEA and setting the items up, which resulted in a faux-iron frame bed along one wall, an overstuffed chair, a desk and chair, a tall wardrobe and a small two-person table with two sets of dishes and two chairs. A bookcase stood on one wall as well.
I was very lucky. I’d offered to use some of the moving stipend to pay for my new furniture, but my parents had insisted that I let them take care of it. I’d even picked out a new down-alternative duvet and cover, and my mother had insisted on buying me some good pillows at Macy’s. “How can you possibly do well at your new job if you don’t get a good night’s sleep?” she’d asked.
It wasn’t the luxuriously appointed loft we’d sublet over the course of the internship, and my new spring mattress wasn’t a Temperpedic. But it was my place, all mine, and I felt a warm sense of accomplishment at having gotten this far. A small voice in the back of my head reminded me that I’d been sleeping with the man who’d given me the job to make this move possible, but I squashed it down, reminding myself of the six job offers I’d turned down. I’d earned all those offers on my own merit. I’d simply opted to take the one that would put me in the city where I wanted to be.
The day before I’d left, I’d gone on a shopping trip with my girlfriends, using my clothing allowance to purchase a new work wardrobe. That was currently lying across my bed in garment bags, waiting to be hung up. I grabbed a knife and slit open the first box, pulling out books and beginning to line them up on shelves. I glanced at my phone occasionally, wondering if I would get a text from Ethan.
As it turns out, I did. It was exactly 10:05 p.m., and I was debating the merits of a bath in my (pitifully small) bathtub or going straight to bed in preparation for the coming workday when my phone chimed. I picked it up, trying to ignore the rapid beat of my heart. It was from Ethan.
Elizabeth, did you get settled alright?
I paused for a moment before typing back: Yes, I did. Thank you. My parents helped me get set up.
His response was quick. What kind of apartment?
A nice little studio, I answered. I left off the address.
I could have negotiated a better salary so you could get at least a one-bedroom.
The entry-level salary is perfectly acceptable, I answered. I had, in fact, negotiated, as any modern girl would, and ended up with five thousand more per year and three more vacation days than the average entry-level employee. I had negotiated all this through my direct supervisor in accounting, without involving Ethan at all. I was sure he would have started me off with a six-figure salary if I’d allowed it, which while nice in theory, would have been both unprofessiona
l and made me the most hated employee there if anyone found out. Strictly speaking, salaries shouldn’t be discussed, I knew…but things had a way of getting out. Even so, I was sure my stint as an actual employee before had helped in my negotiations. I just couldn’t get away from his helping me. It irritated me, and then I felt guilty for being irritated. I was sure many women would love to have a little extra push forward in the business world.
I wanted to ask you something.
I rolled my eyes. What? I typed back.
You asked me if I wanted an employee, or, well…you know what you said. I do want an employee, and I think I do want more from you…but not just that. I want the chance to figure it out. Would you allow me to take you on a real date next Friday night? I’ll pick you up.
I blinked at the screen. A real date? He wanted more than just to fuck me on his desk? I felt my heart speed up. This was much more seductive than the moves he’d pulled on me in his office. This was what I had been secretly wishing for all along when I’d been here, that he’d want more than just a fling. This was what I had knew I shouldn’t encourage. And yet here it was, and I wanted very badly to say yes.
My phone chimed again. Say yes, Elizabeth. Please. One date.
And if it doesn’t go well? I typed back, knowing full well it would go just fine. He was funny and charming and we enjoyed each other’s company.
Then you will be an employee, and nothing more. One date. And if it does go well?
I smirked. It was just like him to try to extract the promise of a second date before I’d even agreed to the first. One date at a time, I typed back.
So that’s a maybe to the second date?
I laughed out loud at that. He was so persistent! Yes to the first, I finally responded. And maybe to the second.
Good. I’ll pick you up Friday night at seven.
Sounds perfect, I typed back, and then set my phone down on the cold tile floor. I needed to use some of that moving allowance to buy a couple rugs, I thought.
A date. A real date. I couldn’t believe I was allowing it, and yet I felt elated. This was a new start, wasn’t it? I abruptly thought of Brian, and felt instantly guilty. I hadn’t even thought of texting him since I’d gotten into town. Was that an answer in itself? That I should let Brian go and concentrate on the potential of a relationship with Ethan? Maybe that was what I should do.
***
I rolled out of bed before my alarm even went off the next morning, excited to get started at work. I had my clothes already laid out from the night before, a pair of wide-legged black pants, black heels, a cream silk shell and a black blazer. Very business-like, plain and serious. I pulled my hair back into a bun, applied some light foundation, mascara and lipstick, and slipped my ruby earrings on. I appraised my reflection in the mirror. Did I look like a girl on her first real day of work? I looked much more experienced, I decided.
I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs to catch a taxi. In the future, I’d take a bus or walk in sensible shoes until I got to work, but the first day definitely deserved a taxi. I watched the morning commuters go past as we weaved through traffic, already thinking ahead to what I would need to do for the day.
I was one of the first ones in the office. I’d just set down my bag at my new desk and sat down when a bright-eyed girl popped up, iPhone in hand. “What coffee would you like?” she chirped, and I had a sudden wave of unreality. This had been me, just a few months ago. Now an intern was getting my coffee. It all seemed very strange. “A large French vanilla iced coffee,” I said. “Whole milk.” The girl jotted it down on her phone and scurried off, and I watched her go, feeling as if I needed a minute to let the transition sink in.
She’s probably gotten Ethan’s coffee this morning, too. The thought startled and surprised me. For one, it made no sense. I’d only gone outside of accounting because of my unusual relationship with Ethan. Otherwise, I would never have interacted outside of my department. For another, what did I care who got his coffee? Even if we had been a couple—which we weren’t—I was a full-fledged professional woman now. I didn’t fetch coffee, not even Ethan’s. I felt slightly disgusted with myself for that flash of jealously. I pushed the button to boot up my computer a little harder than was strictly necessary, feeling generally irritated. This wasn’t how I’d wanted to start my first day off at all.
To my additional frustration, I spent a good portion of the 9 a.m. meeting wondering if Ethan would pop in. I needed to get a grip. This was precisely why I’d been reluctant to accept a job in his company. How much of my days would be spent thinking of him in his office, behind that desk, wondering when or if he might pop into meetings. I just would have thought he’d want to see how things were going on my first day, I thought, which only served to make me more irritable. Thankfully, no one seemed to expect me to comment yet on anything, which was good, considering my state of mind.
As I was exiting the conference room post-meeting, I was so wrapped up in my jumble of thoughts that I nearly ran directly into Ethan, who was standing in the hall. “Ethan!” I exclaimed, loudly enough that a couple of employees glanced in our direction, and I coughed, trying to cover up my slip. “Mr. Sharpe. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
He looked down at me with a flicker of amusement. “Not a problem. I wanted to see how your first day was going, Ms. Matthews.”
I winced at the inflection on my name. “It’s going well enough,” I said, trying to hide my general mood. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Sharpe.”
“I make it a point to know how all of my employees are doing,” he answered genially.
“I should be getting back to my desk,” I replied, entirely uninterested in getting caught in his banter. “Have a good day.”
I turned and headed down the hall before he could say anything else. I wasn’t a bit surprised when my phone vibrated a few moments after I’d sat back down.
You’re very brusque this morning.
How else, exactly, should I react when I nearly run into the CEO? I replied, hoping the message came across as crisp as I felt. I was in no mood.
You can call me Ethan.
Not in front of other employees.
If we were dating it wouldn’t matter.
If we were dating, it would be nepotism, and probably against company policy.
It’s my company. I make the policy.
I huffed a sigh at that, pushing my phone aside. I should cancel the date, I thought, but I knew I wouldn’t. He could irritate me all he liked between now and then, but I knew I wouldn’t cancel the date.
Chapter 3
Ethan
That Friday evening, I must have looked through five different outfits before settling on one. I wanted to look different than I usually did at the office. Sophisticated, but relaxed. Handsome, but approachable. I wanted Elizabeth to feel comfortable, as if she were on a date with anyone. Not her CEO.
So I picked out a pair of dark brown pants and a navy pinstriped button-down in a soft fabric that looked worn-in and vintage. I added a plain leather watch, and looked in the mirror, hoping that I looked like any other guy in D.C. taking a girl out on a Friday night.
The driver probably didn’t do much for that image, I reflected, as I slid into the car and we pulled out into traffic. It certainly didn’t reflect the “average guy” image that I was hoping for.
I wasn’t an average guy, though. And if Elizabeth ever did finally start to date me, I’d want to take her to nice restaurants and expensive plays, out to exclusive parties and bars. I’d want to bring her home to my penthouse loft and make love to her in my expensive bed. I’d want to buy her presents for holidays that she couldn’t afford to buy herself. I didn’t want her to be put off by my lifestyle, I wanted her to enjoy it. I wasn’t sure what about that was so difficult.
The driver pulled up to the curb of the address she’d given me, and I couldn’t help but frown. She’d picked an area that wasn’t too bad, thank goodness, and I’d heard that a lot of
young professionals were moving to this area, so it would pick up soon. But I knew these particular apartments were tiny—I’d looked at acquiring the building about a year ago—and I hated the idea of her having to live there. I knew she wanted to go through all the steps, but I could give her so much more.
I knocked on her door, and when she opened it, she took my breath away. She was wearing a knee length skirt in a blue pattern, and a white sheer top tucked in with a camisole underneath. She had on heels, and she’d redone her makeup since work. I noticed the silver hoops in her ears, and wondered how big of a fit she’d throw if I tried to buy her diamond ones for Christmas.
Probably a pretty big fit.
“Hi, Ethan,” she said, and I couldn’t believe how good it was to hear her say my name after all of the Mr. Sharpe business at work. I knew she was just trying to be professional, but it irked me to no end. I liked hearing her say my name.
I took her hand, and she didn’t say a word. My driver held the door open for us, and as the car pulled out into traffic, I turned to her.
“Thank you for coming on a date with me, Elizabeth.”
She smiled. “I figured I’d give you a chance.” Her tone was cheeky, and I couldn’t help but smile back, some of my anxiety lifted. “Since this is a date,” I said, “you can’t complain about me paying. No matter where I take you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Where are you taking me?”
“Just wait and see.”
Traffic in D.C. on a Friday night is always terrible, and it took nearly twenty minutes to get to the restaurant. When we pulled up, I didn’t have to look at her face to know what she was thinking. I’d gotten reservations at one of the most exclusive French restaurants in town.
“Please, Elizabeth,” I said softly, taking her hand. “Enjoy the evening with me.”
