Strictly Business: Callie (Gold Club Staffing #1)

by Cheri Wood

  “My wife Callie,” Tom says and I dutifully shake Rob’s hand. For once, I’m grateful Tom has the tendency to speak for me when we’re around his colleagues, because I don’t think I could have managed anything pleasant.

  “She’s quite the looker,” Rob remarks and the urge to throw my wine in his face is almost too strong to resist.

  If he’d been nice during our meetings, I probably wouldn’t have this reaction to him, but it was apparent from his attitude the first time we met that he sees women as commodities, nothing more. I know Trish frequently meets with him in conference room A, but she’s never said anything about the experience in itself. In any case, he shouldn’t be sitting here looking smug when he has as much to lose as I have.

  “I thought Nicholai Astor was coming with you?” Sam says, casually looking around the room.

  “Bah! I’d eat my own shit if that boy never shows his face again.”

  Both Sam and Tom look perturbed by this statement.

  “I’m sorry, I was under the impression-“ Sam starts, but he’s quickly cut off by Rob.

  “That he was going to marry my daughter, his fiancée of three years. That was the plan. But Astor decided he didn’t need my name to back him and called off the engagement. Cecily is devastated.”

  Cecily, it is to be assumed, is the daughter. Or possibly the wife, which would explain the migraine.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Robert,” Sam says, obviously torn in his loyalties. If Tom is right, Nicholai Astor could make his career. If Sam takes Rob’s side in the feud, it could be problematic.

  I don’t have much time to ponder the situation, though, because another man is approaching the table with a stunning blonde on his arm. She looks like a trophy wife, but the man himself is too gorgeous and too young to need her for that reason. I’m sure he has other uses for her, though. Wow. Catty, aren’t I? I push away the mean thoughts and smile at the newcomers. The woman gives me a cold assessing glance and I can tell she’s already decided I’m competition. Only she’s probably ten years younger than I am and has the perky body to prove it.

  The man looks me over as well, and there’s something in his eyes that makes the girls stand up and take notice. I feel my sensitive skin straining against the tape.

  “Nicholai,” Tom says by way of greeting and Rob’s head whips around, presumably to stare down the intruder.

  “Evening gentlemen,” he says and his voice is velvet smooth, his tone slightly amused, as if he knows that Rob is fuming and can’t do anything about it. “Beautiful night for philanthropy, isn’t it?” He smiles and pulls out a chair for his date, seating her next to Rob.

  I almost pity the girl, but then she gives me another glare and my compassion goes out the window. Nicholai Astor takes the seat next to me and turns with an outstretched hand in my direction.

  “I’m Nick.”

  “Callie,” I respond and offer my hand. Instead of shaking it, though, he turns it in his hand and raises it to his lips.

  “Pleasure.”

  Yes, that just about sums up the sensation passing through me at the feel of his lips on my skin. I hope I’m not blushing, but I dare not look away to find my reflection anywhere. I suspect I’ll have at least two women glaring at me if I do.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Astor. Nick,” I correct myself before he can. “I understand you’re a client of my husband’s?” That’s it, Callie, remind yourself you do have a husband.

  “I’m between representation at the moment,” Nick says smoothly, a polite way of saying he hasn’t signed on with Tom’s firm yet and might still decide not to.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll be hard pressed to find a better firm in New York than Caulfield & Herring,” I say, putting on my best supportive voice. Apparently, this is not good enough for Tom, as he jumps in with his own pitch, effectively pushing me out of the spotlight.

  I watch Nick as he listens to Tom, and I notice how he’s looking over at me every now and then, each time pleased he has my undivided attention. For the life of me, I can’t seem to look away.

  As the third course out of five is cleared away, Nick turns his full attention back to me, giving Tom no other option than to make polite conversation with Sam’s wife.

  “So, Callie, what do you do?”

  It’s a completely normal question between people who’ve only just met, but it still makes my heart skip a beat. I glance over at Rob, who is thankfully too preoccupied with sweet talking Nick’s date to be listening in on our conversation.

  “Um,” I take a sip of wine before answering. “I’m a consultant, I suppose you could say.”

  “What kind of consultant work do you do?”

  “I’m with Gold Club Staffing.”

  “Gold Club Staffing? They supply office staff, correct?”

  “Yes. It’s basically a temp service.”

  “Do you enjoy the work?”

  A mental image of Mr. Hush pinning my arms down hits me like a heat wave. Don’t blush, don’t blush. I think of Rob instead, which just makes me cringe.

  “Sometimes,” I answer him truthfully. “What about you? I have to admit, I’m not quite clear on what it is your company does.”

  “Investments, mostly. I have a couple of pet projects that I’m passionate about, but for the most part, it’s just a whole lot of paperwork.”

  “What kind of projects?” I ask, and quickly amend, “unless that’s classified information.”

  “Not everything,” he says with a cheeky smile. “I’ve been working on this one project that-“

  He launches into a description of how he found a small business with big business potential and went in and worked with the existing management. He’s definitely passionate about what he does; I can practically see it shining through his eyes. I can’t help but be captivated. I’m hanging on every word and the other people at our table are nothing but distant noise. It takes Tom grabbing my elbow to snap me out of my trance.

  “It’s time to go,” he hisses at me as I turn to him. He’s clearly displeased, and I can’t really blame him. I’ve been hogging Nick’s attention all night and I knew he wanted to woo him.

  “There’s no rush, is there?” Nick says smoothly and Tom releases my arm. “I have a stake in one of the clubs on this street. We could go to the VIP lounge.”

  “Well, that’s…” Tom starts and I can tell he doesn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to talk shop. He also doesn’t like the idea of Nick spending any more time with me. I decide to put him – and myself by extension – out of his misery.

  “You should go, honey,” I tell Tom, tacking on an endearment only used for appearances’ sake these days. “I’m feeling pretty tired. I think I’ll just take a cab home.”

  “Are you sure?” Tom asks. I nod and he digs into his pocket. “Well, at least take the car. I’ll cab it.” He presses the car key into my hand and I turn back to Nick.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Nick.”

  “Likewise. Drive safely.”

  “I will. Thank you. I’ll see you at home.” The last remark is directed at Tom, of course. I leave the dining room with polite farewells and head home.

  GCS

  “Madam Director wanted to see me,” I say to the receptionist at Gold Club Staffing on Monday morning. I was surprised, to say the least, when I got the call an hour ago. I haven’t been in Madam Director’s office since I started working here.

  “Go right ahead,” the receptionist says and I walk into the spider’s parlor. Madam Director is seated behind her impossibly large mahogany desk and waves me in.

  “Well, there’s been an unusual development,” she starts and I feel my spine stiffen. “A request came in for your services. As a personal assistant.”

  I frown. It’s not that I can’t do the work, but is this the beginning to the end of my current career? Am I being put out to pasture already? Has she not noticed my non-sagging breasts? Did a client complain about not getting his money’s worth?


  “They asked for you by name. Have you been advertising?” Madam Director looks down at me from behind her designer reading glasses. She is not pleased and I swallow before answering.

  “No. I mean, when people ask where I work, I name the agency. But I don’t go telling anyone who’ll listen.”

  “Well, I can’t very well tell Mr. Astor’s HR department you don’t do this kind of work, now can I?”

  Mr. Astor? I’m having trouble hearing, my pulse is beating so hard in my ears. “I’m sorry, who?” I say, partly because I can’t be sure I heard her correctly, partly because I don’t want her to know I’ve met him before.

  “Nicholai Astor, owner and CEO of the Nova Corporation, instructed his HR manager to hire you as his personal assistant. It’s a full time position.”

  “For how long?”

  “He didn’t specify. But you can see how this complicates things for me. I have you booked for meetings well into the next quarter. I can probably assign some of my other associates to a few of the clients, but-“

  “I’ll keep my appointments,” I blurt, the fear of never seeing – well, feeling – Mr. Hush again too much to bear. “I mean, the ones you can’t find replacements for. At least until we know how long this other assignment will last.”

  “You’ll have to negotiate long lunches with Mr. Astor.”

  I nod. “I will.”

  “I’ll see if I can move some of the appointments around, have you fill some of the evening slots instead,” Madam Director mutters to herself, scribbling on a pad.

  Up until now, I’ve only worked the day shift, with peak hour around noon. For the clients, it’s a popular slot. Easy enough to take a long lunch and go for a game of tennis. No office gossip, no risk of exposure, no wife getting suspicious about late nights at the office. They are simply going to a meeting, and then on to some strenuous and invigorating activity that demands a shower afterwards.

  “So… when do I start?” I ask carefully.

  “Tomorrow morning, 8 am sharp. I suggest you take today off and go shopping for office wear.”

  With that, I’m dismissed.

  I leave the office in a daze. Nick Astor sought me out to be his P.A. Isn’t this a conflict of interest or something? Hiring your lawyer’s wife to work for you? Or maybe he’s decided not to hire Tom, after all? Either way, I can’t tell Tom about the new long-term assignment, he’ll be furious and think I’ve gone behind his back. It’s a good thing he never asks about my day.

  III

  The Nova Corporation’s offices takes up a whole building in the Financial District, all gleaming glass and steel on the outside. Inside, the lobby fills the entire bottom floor with two information desks on either side of the center piece fountain. The bank of elevators make up the fourth wall.

  I look down at my newly purchased office outfit – black pencil skirt, emerald green blouse and a black suit jacket that nips in at the waist and flares out over the hips. With it, I’m wearing mid-heel black pumps that should last me all day without giving me too much pain. Some of my clients demand that I wear strappy stilettos for our meetings, but I’m not going to be parading around naked for anyone here. I hope.

  I approach one of the impeccably dressed receptionists slash information service clerks and introduce myself.

  “Hi, I’m Callie Norton from Gold Club Staffing. HR requested I come in?”

  The receptionist – Tracy, according to her gold plated name tag – taps something into her computer and smiles at me, sliding over a key card. “Go ahead and take the elevator to the far right. Mr. Astor’s office is on the 45th floor. They’re expecting you.”

  A little puzzled, I head for the bank of elevators and call up the last one on the right. When the doors open, I step inside and look for the panel of buttons, repeating the number 45 to myself. There are no buttons. Instead, there’s a card reader mounted on the wall. I swipe the key card Tracy gave me and the doors close. Then the elevator starts moving. Fast. I suddenly feel like I’m in a horror movie. There are no numbers counting up above the doors, no indication whatsoever that the elevator plans to stop before it hits the end of the shaft.

  Just when I think my heart is going to jump out of my chest, the rapid ascent slows and the elevator comes to a smooth stop. The doors slide open with a chime to announce my arrival and I’m blinded by light. The sun has unlimited access through the floor-to-ceiling windows and once my eyes adjust to the bright light, I can make out a receptionist desk manned by a stunning redhead, with a view of other glistening office buildings behind her. She looks up as I approach the desk.

  “Mrs. Norton?” she asks and steps around the desk. “I’m Lucinda. Mr. Astor asked me to show you to his office. If you’ll follow me-”

  Before I can say anything, Lucinda’s hips are swaying down the corridor and I can either remain awkwardly standing by the reception desk or follow her. Obviously, I follow.

  We stop in front of a couple of double-doors with stainless steel ladder pulls. Instead of opening the doors right away, Lucinda stops and hands me a folder with the Nova Corporation logo embossed on the front.

  “This holds all the information you’ll need and the papers we need you to sign. Look through it and leave the forms with me when you’re ready and I’ll make sure they’re filed with HR.”

  “Thank you,” I say and take the folder from her.

  Lucinda nods, then raps twice on the door before pulling on one of the ladder pulls. “Mr. Astor? I have Mrs. Norton for you,” she announces me. I can’t help but feel like I’m being delivered rather than introduced.

  She gestures for me to enter and I step into the room. My heels click as I walk across the dark stone floor tiles and the sound appears to bounce off the walls. The office is sparsely decorated, but the few paintings hanging on the walls are enormous, contemporary pieces.

  “Mrs. Norton, it’s good to see you again,” Nicholai Astor greets me, circling his glass-topped desk to take my hand. As he raises it to his lips the door closes behind me with a whisper.

  “You too, Mr. Astor,” I respond.

  “As we were Nick and Callie the other night, I hope to continue in the same spirit. That is, unless you’re uncomfortable with that?”

  “Well, we weren’t employer and employee the last time we met, so…”

  “I hope you’re not upset that I contacted your agency?”

  “Oh, no. A little surprised, maybe.”

  “It’s all right, you can be honest with me.” He flashes a crooked smile and for some reason I believe him.

  “Well, in all honesty, I was pretty surprised. Especially since I know you and my husband-“

  “I’ll stop you right there,” he cuts me off. “I had already decided against hiring Caulfield & Herring when I came to the charity dinner. I enjoyed our conversation, though, and it made me think we might work well together. It just so happened that I was in the market for a new assistant. Your husband played no part whatsoever in my decision to hire you.”

  I nod in understanding, feeling slightly embarrassed for questioning his motives.

  “Now, I have some very high standards when it comes to the people I work with,” he says and walks over to the floor-to-ceiling windows to look out over the cityscape, his hands behind his back. “Do you see that building over there with the slanted glass roof?”

  I walk over to stand next to him in order to see better. “Yes.”

  “Last year, it won an award for best design. Five years ago, the architecture firm behind the project was facing bankruptcy. I recognized their talent, their potential, and I worked with them tirelessly until they were at the top of their game.”

  I feel my gut tighten, my crazed mind conjuring up images of Nick Astor tirelessly working me over until I reach my peak. My cheeks heat in embarrassment. Maybe it’s about time I leave the escorting part of Gold Club Staffing behind as it’s clearly impacting my real life interactions.

  “Callie?”

  I blink, sh
aking myself out of my errant thoughts. “I understand,” I say, hoping he hasn’t asked me anything that needs a different answer. “You run a very successful business.” Flattery always works, even more so when it’s genuine.

  “I do, and it will remain successful because I employ only the brightest and most perceptive people.” There is an edge to his tone, but it’s somehow teasing at the same time. Damn, he caught me out, didn’t he?

  “I understand, Mr. Astor. I will strive to fulfill your needs.”

  “It’s still Nick, and I’m happy to have you just the way you are. Maybe just a bit more attentive.”

  Are we still talking about work or did I accidently push the conversation into a whole other territory? If so, is this him flirting with me?

  “Is there anything in particular I need to know?” Like what is expected of me? Of course, I can’t tell him it’s been a long time since I did any kind of office work, so I’ll just have to wing it.

  “The file Lucinda gave you should have all the standard information. You’ll have your own office, just down the hall from me. I use the intercom a lot and I expect you to drop whatever it is you’re doing when I need you.”

  I swallow. Nicholai Astor is no teddy bear, that’s for sure. Well, I’ve dealt with plenty of domineering men before, and that was without any clothes on. I will figure out a way to handle this one, too.

  “I’m your boss now, at least during standard office hours. If you have any complaints or concerns, you come to me. Not Mrs. Richards. Understood?”

  Basically, he’s saying Madam Director has no authority here. I can’t possibly ask for long lunches now. I’ll have to talk to her about only taking meetings in the evenings. My heart squeezes at the thought of losing my standing lunch appointment with Mr. Hush.

  “I understand.”

  “Good. I’ll show you to your office,” Nick says and heads for the door. Is that really something that the CEO of a multimillion dollar corporation does? Show assistants the way? I can just hear Tom screaming in my ear about precious billable hours going to waste. Then again, Nick probably makes money while he sleeps.