The Very Rich Man (The Very Manly Series Book 3)

by Laura Stapleton

  The Very Rich Man

  Laura Stapleton

  Text Copyright © 2016 Laura L Stapleton

  Cover Copyright © 2016 Cheeky Covers

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN

  No part of this work may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author. Any requests for photocopying of any part of this book should be directed in writing to Stapleton Enterprises.

  Names, characters, and incidences are imaginary. Any similarities are strictly coincidental. Real names, when used, are trademarked by their respective owners and in most cases admired by the author.

  V1.0

  Dedication

  For Nancy Rodman.

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thanks to Miranda Nading for her killer editing skills. Thank you for corralling me and my wandering prose. Thanks go to my husband for my constant changes and his resulting uploads. A huge thank you as well to Carrie at Cheeky Covers. These three do more than tolerate me and I appreciate that.

  Big thanks to the editors at Silhouette a couple of decades ago. You were right and have kept me from embarrassing myself. Here is the new and improved version.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Other works On Kindle

  The Very Manly Series

  The Oregon Trail Series

  With other authors

  Nova Scotia Murder Mysteries

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Darian Lawrence scrolled down his computer screen. His assistant had written the advertisement for JobsGalore.com and when the first few electronic resumes rolled in, he had checked the online post to be sure there hadn’t been a mix up. No such luck. The ad was good but the first few people, not so much. None of these applicants jumped out at him as qualified. He knew he’d have to trade down, but this was ridiculous.

  He glanced up at Betty. She sat comfy in a chair across his desk and he asked, “Are you sure you need to retire? Wasn’t Congress going to raise the age?” When she laughed, he added, “Who do I need to pay so the bill passes and you have to stay?”

  She shook her head at him.“Too late for that, sir.”

  “Don’t sir me, young lady.”

  Betty continued tapping on her tablet. “I need to get in practice for when the new hire is interviewed. Can’t have him or her thinking we’re off-the-cuff around here.”

  He glanced back at his screen. “True.” Few men had applied for Betty’s position. Darian figured they wanted the mailroom first. So cliché. The male applicants all lacked experience, anyway. None of them had read the requirements and the job required attention to detail. He deleted their files. Three down, twenty-two resumes to go.

  She stood, smoothing her skirt. “Making any headway?”

  “Yes. Some.” He smirked. “Their inability to follow instructions helps.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “I’ll say. I almost deleted them outright but figured you might overlook their gaffes.”

  He shook his head and refocused on the list. “I need someone with your discretion and forgiveness.” He drummed his fingers on the keyboard just enough to hear them clack. One of the applicants didn’t have enough experience as an assistant, but he hesitated to delete the file. Her paralegal experience looked good. He liked the idea of an employee with an attention to detail.

  “Found one, huh?”

  Darian glanced up at her. If he believed in all that supernatural mumbo jumbo, he’d think the woman had psychic powers. “I think so, but need to review the others to be sure.”

  “Sure. In the meantime, I took the liberty of interviewing the applicant I thought most qualified. She’s perfect and you have an interview with her as well.”

  “I saw that.” He opened his schedule. He’d been unhappy the first time Betty had anticipated his choice, but he had learned a long time ago to trust her instincts. “In twenty minutes, too. Do you want me to pretend to have a choice, or should we just send her to HR when she arrives?”

  Betty stared at him. “You need to do the final interview to see if I’m on track. Then, if you approve, send her to HR.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He watched as she left the room. Had anyone else pulled this stunt, they’d be out of a job. Betty? In a sweet, grandmotherly way, she ruled the roost. Darian shook his head and refocused on the victim he’d be questioning in a little while.

  By the time Betty messaged him, he knew everything possible about Ms. Chloe Anders. He sent back an affirmative and asked for no interruptions. The door opened and he stood. Her crisp, attractive appearance didn’t surprise him. A Google search and Facebook perusal gave him a general idea of who she was as a person outside of work. “Hello, Ms. Anders.”

  “Mr. Lawrence, it’s a pleasure.”

  Her firm handshake told him they were off to a good start. The internet hadn’t done her justice. The woman was a knockout but her looks didn’t sway him. Personality could turn a diamond into a stone. Her online photos hadn’t captured the subtle highlights in her blonde hair, pulled back into a bun. Did she really need the glasses, or were they for show? When she turned her head, he caught the bend in the lenses. Prescription. Her honesty received a positive mental checkmark from him. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “Something not on my resume? More than what you’d find on an internet search?” When he nodded, she bit her lip a little before continuing, “I’m a morning person and keep my work area tidy despite, well, despite what I do at home.”

  He returned her slight smile. “Anything else?”

  “There’s not much more unless you want to get personal, and I’d prefer not to do so.”

  “I agree.”

  She drummed her fingertips on the armrest of her chair. The manicured nails made small tapping sounds. “What I don’t tend to mention in resumes or online, then? I prefer coffee to tea.” She tilted her head, staring past him and out the window. “I love shoes.”

  “Isn’t that rather common among women?”

  Her eyebrows rose, reminding him of Betty’s expression when he’d cross a line in conversation or his requests. “How very sexist of you, but yes, it is common. I’m sadly ordinary.”

  He grinned a little, saying before thinking, “Somehow, I doubt that.” Darian shifted in his chair, turning off his computer screen. “Let me be a little more specific with my questions. How do you know when a task is done?”

  She shrugged. “Depends on the task. Some things need a lot of attention, others can be overworked.”

  “True.” He mentally went through a typical day. “When is getting to work early for you and when is leaving work late?”

  “That also depends. Early is before the time you need me to be here. Late is when I’m the only one left in the building and need security to walk me out.”

  He returned her smile, enjoying the chance to gaze into her blue eyes. Not that he was attracted. He couldn’t allow himself to desire his assistant, but still. She had a friendly face. Realizing he bordered on creepy with his staring, Darian cleared his throat. “I see. Then it’s sun up to sun down. I might have expected that from a Wyoming native.”

  She laughed. “Probably so. Essentially, work hours are what you say they are. I’m currently in a lifestyle where I can devote a hundred percent to
my career without distractions.”

  “Your mentioning career leads to another question. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

  “Ah, yes. I’m supposed to answer, “In your seat,” but I won’t.”

  “No?”

  “No. I don’t know where I will end up in two years, never mind five.”

  Her answer bothered him. He needed an assistant who could anticipate multiple outcomes, not leave everything to chance. “So do you plan ahead on anything?”

  She chuckled. “I plan everything. Every single thing.” Chloe shrugged and shifted in the chair. “But, plans change and when they do, I just plan again. Maybe it’s more accurate to say I have several plans for the next five years.”

  “I see.” He began tapping his fingers on the keyboard again. “Do you have a time frame for starting here?”

  “The sooner the better. I’m eager to begin the next phase of my career.”

  He believed her, judging by how she sat at the edge of her seat. Ms. Anders seemed intent, but he wasn’t sure if she wanted a job here or anywhere that would have her. “I assume you’ve applied at several places?”

  “Yes. I’d planned on taking a full month of vacation. I played tourist here in Denver for two weeks before needing something more to do.”

  “A change of plans yet again, hmm?”

  “Exactly.”

  Her broad smile felt oddly rewarding and warming, as if she were the sun and him the first crocus of spring. He frowned at the romantic thought. “Is that a roundabout way of saying we were one of many companies, or were you selective?”

  “I was and am very selective in what positions I apply for.”

  “Which leads to my next question about why you left your last employer. You moved here from Cheyenne.” He reexamined her onscreen resume. “Without a new job, essentially leaping before looking. Why?”

  “That’s a tough question. One I’ve asked myself several times.” She shifted in her chair and straightened her skirt. “My former employer stepped down as assistant district attorney. He wanted to see someone without worrying about the ethics.”

  “Really?” he asked in a way that encouraged her to give more details.

  “Yes. He’d fallen for a woman while prosecuting her brother. When he stepped down to pursue a relationship with her, I found myself suddenly working for someone else.”

  “So you left?”

  “I know it might not sound like I got along with the new boss. I did. He’s a great guy, but the change over gave me a chance to see what else is out there. I targeted Denver because of the great employment opportunities, it’s close to home, and is a beautiful city.”

  Darian grinned. “I agree, even if I’m wildly biased.” He glanced at his screen when a message popped up. Betty, writing about how Ms. Anders was a perfect fit for their company. “Will your ethical former boss vouch for you?”

  She chuckled. “Both men are ethical, Mr. Bartlett as well as Mr. Wells. In fact, Hayden, Mr. Wells, has said he’s left a door open for me at his new practice. If the mountains ever become boring, of course.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that wait.” He glanced over at his potential new hire’s resume for any other questions he might have missed. “I’ve noticed your work history is very extensive. I don’t care about age as much as if you’ve really had as many jobs as are listed. Care to explain?”

  “I can.” She cleared her throat. “I was pretty young when I got my first job. Eight, and I wanted the money for Christmas for my mom. Some friends at school were newspaper deliverers and had me sign up to help. It wasn’t much, but I was able to surprise her that year instead of sneaking into her closet to find makeup to wrap for her.”

  He frowned, not wanting to feel as much as he did for a little girl determined to give her mom a better present. “Very commendable. Now then, I’ve noticed some overlaps in your employment as well.”

  “They do, and usually in the summer. I had a lot of free time when school was out and mom was at work.”

  “I’m sure that helped with college expenses later.”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  Her crossing her arms signaled to him he had learned all she’d tell. He smiled, pleased at having found Betty’s replacement. “Do we have your cell?”

  “Your assistant does.”

  “Good enough.” He stood. “I’ll see you out.” Darian walked around the desk, going ahead to open the door for her. “I don’t like keeping people waiting, so you’ll hear from us soon.” He followed her out into the lobby.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lawrence. I appreciate that.” She held out her hand. “A pleasure meeting you.”

  “Likewise.”

  Betty didn’t stand until the elevator doors closed behind Chloe and the first ding sounded from the floor below. “You hired her, didn’t you?”

  “Not yet.”

  She followed him back into his office. “Darian, you’re insane.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She’s perfect for this job and you know it.”

  “Only because you’ve told me.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “Don’t even start. I’m hiring her. I just want to make sure her references check out.”

  “You didn’t open the attachment?” Betty leaned over to peek at his computer. “Her references? Sent at the end of the message a while ago?”

  He returned her frown and took his seat. “I didn’t see them, I was distracted.”

  She settled in opposite from him. “I’ll bet. She’s lovely.”

  Her suggestion that he let appearances distract him bothered Darian. He’d like to think his hiring practices were more discriminatory. “That’s not what did it.”

  “Sure it wasn’t. Ms. Anders is so pretty, a skeleton would sit up and notice.”

  Darian smirked at her all-knowing expression. “I agree, since I am a guy, but still wanted to talk it over with you first.”

  “Did you ask about her work history? How it started ten years before her high school graduation?” Betty leaned forward, scooting her chair closer. “Tell me.”

  He almost chided her for being bossy. “She wanted the extra money as a kid.” At her raised eyebrows, he explained, “For her mom, of all things.”

  “That’s so sweet! I’m amazed at how she’s been working since she was eight years old. Is that right? She was that young?”

  He gestured to his computer. “See for yourself.”

  Betty went around his desk and looked. “Good for you catching this. I didn’t think about the timeline. I just saw the list of employers.”

  “There’s not many of them. Newspaper route, baby sitting, restaurant, medical receptionist, legal assistant.” He watched as she went back to her seat. “So what stood out to you specifically? Why should I hire her?”

  “Did you notice also how there are no gaps? She’s worked through the school year.”

  “I did and asked her about it. My guess is her mom raised her alone and it was either hang around all summer at her home or work.” He sighed, wanting to ignore the tug on his heartstrings yet again. “Call her and you two work out when you end and she begins here. I’d like her to hit the ground running, so if you need to train her, make it happen.”

  Betty hopped up with an enthusiasm that belied her age. “Very well, sir. It’ll be a pleasure.”

  Darian leaned back in his chair before getting up. He went to his office window, the Rocky Mountains providing his favorite vista. No artwork hung from his walls, none could compete with the grandeur nature provided Denver. He let his gaze trace the cleared paths of green, anxious for the first snows of skiing season.

  Later, he’d work out and get ready for the slopes. Now, he had a full afternoon before an early dinner date.

  Once in her car, Chloe kicked out of her “I mean business!” heels. The short walk to and from Lawrence’s office made her feet ache. The band aid to cover yesterday’s blister had rubbed off after two steps. Add another posi
tive to her former boss’s office rules. Hayden Wells hadn’t cared about footwear. She’d worn these just in case her interviewer was a stickler for such things.

  From what she’d researched, the man seemed inhumanly attentive to detail. Google gave her a wealth of information as soon as she’d received the call for an interview with the man himself. Her heart still thumped a little too hard at how much younger he’d been in person than on the retrieved business photos. She’d been awestruck by good looking men and gotten over it. She didn’t doubt the same thing would be true for Mr. Lawrence as well.

  She eased out of the parking garage, giving the gate keeper the validated ticket. Betty had been so nice. In a perfect world, the woman would stay on and Chloe would be her assistant.

  No such thing as perfect, she thought, easing into her apartment’s parking space. She slipped her shoes back on, grimacing at the pain. As soon as she hit her welcome mat, Chloe began shedding clothes. A month of time off and she’d been spoiled. T shirts and pajama bottoms, sweats when she needed to dress up, had been her uniform since leaving the ADA’s office. She almost didn’t want the job, since being a personal assistant meant being there in person. She washed her face, hung up her business suit, and slipped into something a little more flannel.

  Soon, her phone sat on the kitchen counter, charging with the ringtone turned up high. She flopped down on her one splurge, a really nice sleeper sofa, and closed her eyes. Next month, she’d start shopping for a dining room table and chairs. Right after paying off her car. Chloe rubbed her temples. Her mom and step dad had offered to help and she almost let them. They had the farm to reinvest in, not her. She smiled, wondering if they’d take her on if this Denver experiment didn’t work.

  Something about Mr. Darian Lawrence lingered in her mind longer than she liked. He’d smelled good, like leather and money. She relaxed a little into the comfy sofa. Guys she’d dated in the past saw her paralegal experience with dollar signs in their eyes. She figured he was well acquainted with the female type, too. Chloe smiled, resisting the urge to cover up with a blanket for a nap. She was out for his money, all right. Direct deposited whenever payroll went through and with all the necessary taxes withheld.