Help Wanted

by Allison B Hanson

  He was able to relax into a middle ground and came out of college confident and ready to take on the world. Which he was doing just fine on his own, despite his sister’s constant disapproval with his lack of a love life.

  His sister’s words from a few seconds ago echoed in his head. You’re going to love her.

  Sidney didn’t know he’d already loved a girl like this a long time ago and she’d crushed him thoroughly. Not that he was blaming Kenley personally, but he was sure she had left some shy boy’s heart in rubble too.

  He picked up the paper in front of him and stared at it, trying to form the letters into words.

  “Were you a cheerleader in high school?”

  She looked surprised by the odd question, and rightfully so. But after a second, she nodded. “Yes.”

  He couldn’t hire her. He couldn’t go back to the Zane who felt helpless and insignificant in the presence of a pretty, unattainable girl. He would have to come up with an excuse to reject Sidney’s request.

  He nodded, more about his decision than about what was on the page. Then, realizing he should actually read it first, he focused on the words.

  She had been at her previous job in Manhattan for a long time, with more responsibilities than the pay afforded. He glanced up at her, seeing her bite her lip nervously.

  It was at that moment it hit him. Something he should have known all along, but somehow had overlooked.

  Kenley Carmichael, as beautiful and amazing as she was, was still just a regular person. A normal person who now needed a job.

  He let the anger and hurt wash away, and reassessed the situation. He would consider her as he would any other candidate. She would not be punished for the past, of which she was not an active participant. Nor would he favor her for being pretty. He would base his decision to hire her solely on her merits and ability to do the job.

  Which, granted, should have been the objective in the first place.

  As he read through her application and résumé, it became increasingly evident there was nothing he could use to keep him from hiring her.

  Then, there it was. The kink in her armor.

  “It says you left your last job for personal reasons.”

  “Yes.” She continued to bite her lip, but made no attempt to explain.

  He let out a sigh.

  “In my line of work, when someone puts down personal reasons, it either means he stole something, came to the job shit-faced, or he forgot to come to work at all. Either way, it usually means fired, not left for actual personal reasons. Is that what it means in this instance?” he asked, pointing at the paper on his desk.

  He was almost giddy with the opportunity to send her off with her tail between her legs. Despite his decision to look at her fairly, he still had wounds that had been torn open at the sight of her.

  She looked down at the floor and twisted her hands together.

  “I did get fired from my last job. But not because I didn’t come to work or because I had been drinking. I didn’t steal anything either.” She let out a determined sigh. “It was a misunderstanding.”

  “Do you care to elaborate?” he pushed for details he didn’t deserve.

  “Not really.”

  “I need to be able to trust the person I hire for this position completely. All cards on the table.”

  She looked stunned.

  “Sidney said meeting with you was a formality. She told me she was the one who made the final decision.”

  “She thinks she is, but she isn’t. You would be working with me. She won’t be working here at all.”

  “Fine.” She shrugged and looked up at the ceiling. “My former boss accused me of sleeping with her husband. I didn’t do it, but what does that matter? She fired me and now no one will hire me because I’m wearing a big old scarlet A on my chest. Who cares about the truth, right? It’s not nearly as exciting as a scandal, or having someone to blame for her crappy marriage.” She stood up and headed for the door. “I’m sorry I wasted your time, Zane. It was nice meeting you.”

  He should have been happy the interview was over so he could finally breathe, but all he could think about was the way her voice had sounded when she’d said his name.

  Chapter 3

  Kenley was cursing and casting violent, powerless spells in the direction of her old boss as she walked to her car. She would not cry again over another opportunity lost because of that vicious woman. She wouldn’t.

  She pulled out her phone and called Rachel.

  “It didn’t work out,” Kenley said as tears broke loose and ran down her cheeks. Damn it.

  “Another one?” Rachel sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Let’s go get a drink.”

  “If we keep drinking every time I get turned down because I’m an alleged whore, we’re going to have to start going to meetings.”

  “Fine, then come over here and we’ll bake cookies.” She offered a higher calorie option.

  “See you soon.”

  Kenley drove slowly, letting the drive take even longer. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Zane it was nice to meet him. It was.

  Despite his harsh demeanor, she’d found him to be adorable, in a manly kind of way. He had dark, shaggy hair that hung over his bright blue eyes. Kind eyes.

  He seemed like the kind of guy she would have gone out on a date with, if she did such things. She wasn’t good at dating. She’d started too late.

  Back in high school her mother had encouraged her to go out, knowing Kenley was spending most of her evenings and weekends at home with her. But it had seemed ridiculous to go to a party or a football game when her mother’s clock was winding down.

  She hadn’t wanted to look back one day and regret not spending as much time as she could with the woman who had taken her in and loved her as if she were her own. And today, as she made her way to Rachel’s cookie factory, she realized she had been right.

  “Damn it.” Kenley wiped the tear from her eye and pulled into the driveway. She’d unleashed the tears, good luck getting them to stop anytime soon. She missed her mother every day, but she could honestly say she didn’t regret giving up the dates, parties, or football games so they could share every minute they were given together. “Mom? Why is this happening?” she asked the empty car.

  She would have liked to work at the marina. She would have liked to move to New Haven and start fresh, meet someone who would understand why she didn’t want to jump into bed after two drinks. Maybe this stranger could get to know her, and she’d tell him about her predicament. He’d be understanding and would help lead her into that next phase of her life. The sex phase. Maybe she’d be so good at it right out of the box he’d ask her to marry him, just because he couldn’t get enough. Did she even want to be married?

  Sure it seemed ideal. Someone to count on. Someone committed to love you even in the mornings or during the flu. But she’d seen the other side. She’d seen her father utterly heartbroken as he watched his wife spend her last days in pain.

  For some reason he’d signed up for marriage a second time. So maybe the good did outweigh the bad.

  It would be nice to have someone to have dinner with each night. They could share stories about their workday. Maybe after dinner they’d snuggle in front of a fire with a glass of wine. They’d start kissing, and then he’d slip his hands into her sweatpants—not the ripped sweatpants with the missing drawstring, but a sexy pair she didn’t own yet.

  “What are you doing? You look like you’re thinking about licking someone.” Rachel knocked on the glass by her head, startling her out of her unrealistic day dream.

  Kenley got out of the car and hugged her friend. Rachel didn’t ask for details about the ill-fated interview. They made cookies and talked until Kenley felt better.

  With a giant pile of cookies, Kenley went back to her temporary home and played dolls with her niece. After helping tuck her in and taking her turn with a bedtime story, she went out to the garage where her worldly possessions were st
ored. It took her three tries to find the box she was looking for, but she finally pulled out her photo album. She found a photo of herself when she was probably five. In the picture Kenley was wearing her mother’s heels and struggling to carry her briefcase.

  She’d liked pretending she was going to work.

  Feeling inspired, she hung the photo on the door of her makeshift room in the basement so it could motivate her in the morning.

  As she curled up on the sofa she thought about normal things. How long would she have to sleep on her brother’s sofa? Why had she spent three hundred dollars on a ski jacket when she didn’t even ski? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  But when she was done berating herself for her poor planning, she thought about Zane and the missed opportunity with him. If he’d just given her a chance, she would have proven herself. He would have been more than pleased with her performance.

  This thought sparked a different kind of remorse. He was a big, muscular man. Strapping even, if virgins were allowed to use such a word.

  She slipped off to sleep remembering the look on his face when she’d first walked into his office. For a moment he looked as if she’d made his day by just being there.

  * * *

  “I’m leaving today and I’m not coming back,” Sidney snapped as she flopped down on the sofa in his office. “I had her in the bag.”

  “I’m sorry.” Zane had apologized twenty or more times since Kenley had run out of his office the day before. He knew Sidney wouldn’t abandon him. He was their mother’s favorite, and Sidney wouldn’t want to deal with the wrath if he told her Sidney was picking on him.

  “You’re not sorry. You’re stupid and stubborn and”—she let her shoulders fall—“damn it! I can’t think of the other word I want to use, but it starts with an S for emphasis.”

  “Look, I know you thought she was great, but I wasn’t convinced she was going to be a good fit. And since it’s my company and I’m the one who has to work with this person, my opinion is the only one that matters.”

  She looked him over, studying him, reading his mind in that way that she did.

  “Stop it,” he said, holding up his hands as if to block her powers.

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop looking at me.”

  “Why? Are you going to tell Mom on me?”

  Maybe. “No. I have work to do. Let me know when more applications come in.” He tried to sound both busy and firm.

  “Before I go to the trouble of screening any other potential employees, maybe you could tell me what it was about Kelsey you didn’t like.” She raised her brow at him.

  “For starters, her name wasn’t even Kelsey, it was Kenley.”

  “Okay, that was my fault, not hers. What else?”

  “I just didn’t get a good vibe.” The vibe was more than good. Too damn good.

  “I’m sorry, we’re hiring someone based on vibes?” she asked, eyes wide. “Do you have some kind of device I should use to measure a person’s vibes?”

  “I’m going to be working closely with this person. They’re going to be like an appendage. It has to be a good fit, and this wasn’t.”

  “You were able to tell it wasn’t going to work out in the ten minutes she was in your office?”

  “What do you want me to say?” He raised his shoulders. He didn’t want a constant reminder of how his life might have been different if he’d had the balls to ask out Courtney Bishop. And he surely didn’t want to go back to feeling like the nerdy kid in awe of the princess. She’d even been a cheerleader. He could practically smell it on her. Eau de Too Good for You.

  “I’d like you to say I can hire her. She’d be so easy to train, and she could start right away.”

  “It’s not about you.”

  “Fine. Give me the application and I’ll file it.” She held out her hand, and he shoved the papers toward her.

  “Hmm. It is Kenley,” she noted as she headed for the door. Then she stopped and turned around. “Didn’t she kind of look like that girl you had a thing for in high school?”

  Shit. He let out a sigh and shrugged.

  “Maybe a little.” Way wrong thing to say. He should have pretended he didn’t know what she was talking about. That always worked. Why had he fallen for her trap? Her eyes flared and she stepped closer, tapping the folder.

  “So you’re not going to hire her because she reminds you of the girl who rejected you ten years ago?”

  “You wouldn’t understand, and I don’t want to talk about it. It doesn’t matter, because I’m not hiring her.” As forceful as he’d made it sound, Sidney flopped back down on his sofa and scowled at him.

  “Listen up, little brother. You’re being an asshole, and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal in some way. Discrimination or something.”

  “You can’t discriminate against someone because you don’t like them.”

  “Why didn’t you like her? Was she nasty to you? Pick on you?”

  “No.”

  She twisted her mouth to the side, which was her common expression when she was trying to figure him out.

  “I hope you don’t expect me to leave until you’ve explained yourself, because it’s not going to happen.” He knew her well enough to know she really wouldn’t leave until he told her the truth. Plus, he wasn’t sure if she could physically get herself to her feet. She was enormous.

  “Fine. Okay. It’s going to sound ridiculous, but she did remind me of Courtney, who may have broken my heart.” His face was hot. Why was his office so fucking hot? It was the end of February for Christ’s sake. “And forgive me if I don’t want to walk into my office every day and be reminded of that feeling. It’s too painful.”

  Sidney did a great job of keeping the laughter in. She even looked compassionate.

  “I’m sorry,” was all she managed to get out.

  “So you see why I might be uncomfortable working with her.”

  Sidney tilted her head to the side while she thought it over.

  “Nope. Sorry. That’s not going to cut it. She’s qualified. She’s available to start immediately, and she’s very pleasant. If there’s a problem it would be on you, not her. Why should she be punished because you used to be in love with a girl who looks like her?”

  “I wasn’t in love with her,” he corrected quickly. He was so in love with her. He used to pretend his pillow—never mind.

  “Are you sure about that? Because most people don’t have this kind of issue over a ten-year-old crush.”

  “She makes me feel like an awkward teenager again.”

  “Again, your problem, not hers.” Drat. It was time for a compromise or else she wouldn’t stop until he’d caved. He couldn’t cave on this.

  “She was only the first interview. Let’s see who else comes in, and if we don’t find anyone better, I’ll reevaluate on Thursday when I get back.”

  “Fair enough.” She smiled and left his office without another argument.

  “Damn it.” She’d agreed too easily. Somehow he’d made a fatal error.

  * * *

  “Really? No one else? Not one other person?” Zane asked his sister after finishing the second interview on Thursday afternoon.

  “Nope. Sorry.”

  He should have known no one better would apply. His sister had made up her mind, which meant the most perfect candidate could have come in and offered to work for free, and Sidney would have passed the person over just so Zane would be miserable.

  The only other interviews she’d set up were one with an eighty-year-old woman who didn’t like to fly and a girl out of high school who’d kept checking her phone the whole time.

  He wasn’t surprised to come in on Friday morning to find Kenley’s application back on his desk with a sticky note that said:

  Hire this girl or you’ll be sorry. She’s perfect and she’s not Courtney.

  The truth was, he couldn’t argue.

  Kenley was perfect for the job. She had a degree in business, had years of experien
ce and stellar recommendations, with the exception of her last boss who said she was unethical and incompetent. When Zane had asked the woman why it had taken her six years to figure that out, the woman hung up on him.

  Unable to put it off any longer, he took a deep breath and picked up the phone to call the woman—who would be a constant reminder of his past inadequacies—to ask if she would work for him.

  Never, when he was a dorky kid back in school, would he have expected basic social hierarchies to shift so he would be in the position of power over one of the elite.

  Long live the king. And God save his heart.

  * * *

  Kenley pounded on the punching bag even after her hands hurt. She had taped a photo of Ruth at the top of the bag so she could pretend she was beating up her old boss.

  Ironically it was a picture of her and her husband taken at the New Year’s party. She decided it was only fitting since both of them needed a good smack upside the head.

  “He’s not even good-looking,” she yelled as she punched the bag over and over. “You’ve ruined my life!”

  During her rant and assault on an inanimate object her phone rang. When she didn’t recognize the number, her heart started pounding for a new reason. Was someone calling for an interview? After the disaster with Zane two weeks ago, she’d put out about a million résumés. She only needed one to get her in the door.

  She shook off her boxing gloves as quickly as she could and picked up the phone.

  “Hello?” She only then noticed she was out of breath. “I was working out, nothing else,” she added stupidly in breathy pants.

  She heard a man chuckle on the other end of the line.

  “Is this Kenley Carmichael?”

  “Yes.” She worked hard to calm her breathing so she didn’t sound like a whacko.

  “This is Zane Jackson from New Haven Custom Boats.”

  “Yes?” She couldn’t help but sound confused. He’d made things perfectly clear when she’d retreated out of his office.

  “I was wondering if you were still available for the job. If you aren’t, it’s fine. No worries.”