She shrugs, obviously done trying to figure me out. “Well, good luck.” She walks towards the front door.
“Thanks.”
“Hey,” she says as she stops and turns. “Why don’t you meet me for lunch afterwards and tell me how it goes?”
“Okay, sure.” Why not? Maybe I’ll have some good news to share by then. Or my heart will be shattered into a million pieces. Either way, I’ll probably have something to tell my best friend. Why don’t you tell her now why you’re so nervous about this interview? I ignore the insistent thoughts in my head, knowing Emily would probably try to talk me out of the whole thing if she knew what my ulterior motives for the interview really are.
“Awesome!” she says. “Text me when you’re done.”
I nod, then watch her leave. Once she’s gone, I shower, then spend the next thirty minutes agonizing over what to wear. I want to look professional, but if Drake sees me, I want to look sexy. But if I really want this job—and I haven’t decided if I do—then looking sexy would be a bad idea. Remember, Ash, you’re there to impress Barbara.
After another five minutes of looking through my not too large choice of clothes, I decide to wear a navy blue silk business suit that my parents gave me as a graduation present. Using the full-length mirror hanging on the back of Emily’s door, I critically examine my appearance. The dress hits my legs just above the knee, the jacket is cut in a flattering style, and the overall look makes me look professional.
“This will work,” I say to my reflection, then I change back into my jeans. No point in taking a chance on getting the fabric dirty, and I still have two hours before I need to leave. I spend the rest of the morning looking online for jobs, but fifteen minutes before I need to leave, I put on the dress, fix my hair and make-up, then head out the door.
I arrive for my interview right on time. The moment I enter the building I’m on the look-out for Drake. His company is on the fifth floor, but it’s not out of the question that he’ll happen by, and if he does, I don’t want to miss him.
I walk to the bank of elevators and press the call button. A moment later the doors silently slide open. When I arrive on the fifth floor, I see a pair of glass doors with Drake Consulting stenciled on them, and I head directly towards them.
The foyer is small—just a few padded chairs and a reception desk. A hallway to the right of the reception desk leads to what must be the office space. Disappointed that I haven’t seen Drake yet, or even where his office is, I walk up to the receptionist. “I have an appointment with Barbara,” I tell the pretty girl sitting behind the desk.
“What is your name?”
“Ashley Spencer.”
“Please have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
Though I do as I’m told, my gaze is steady on the hallway that leads to the inner sanctum—the place where I just know Drake is right this very minute.
“Ashley?” An attractive woman wearing a stylish skirt and blouse walks towards me.
I stand to greet her. “Yes. Are you Barbara?”
“Yes.” She holds out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Shaking her hand, I say, “Nice to meet you too.”
She releases my hand, then turns towards the hallway. “We’ll chat in the conference room.”
I follow her down the hallway, but to my disappointment she turns into the first room we come to and I don’t get a chance to look for Drake. The room is small—it holds a round table surrounded by five chairs. She motions for me to sit, then she sits across from me.
I want to ask if I can see Drake, but I keep my mouth closed, waiting for her to take the lead. She asks me lots of questions and I think I answer them well. We chat for a while longer, and as she tells me what the job entails, I find I’m more interested in the position than I thought I would be and I try harder to impress her.
“Will you wait here a moment, Ashley?”
I nod, then watch her leave. Wondering where she’s going, I’m tempted to sneak out of the conference room and see if I can find Drake, but decide that would be a bad idea.
A few minutes later she returns.
“I’ve told you what your duties for this position would be,” she begins. “But I didn’t tell you for whom you’d be working. Our CEO, Colton Drake, is in need of an assistant.” She smiles, like everything is going according to schedule. “He’s free right now, and he’d like to meet with you.”
Ten
ASHLEY
My mouth goes dry and my heart begins to hammer in my chest. I’m going to see Drake right now. He wants to see me. “O . . . Okay,” I stutter.
“No need to be nervous. He’s really quite nice.”
Yeah, unless he’s telling you to pretend to be his housekeeper so his maybe-girlfriend, aka The Witch, doesn’t suspect that he’s sleeping with you. I nod and stand on suddenly shaky legs. Maybe I don’t want to see him after all. Maybe I should just keep my memories of the good times we had, and go.
She opens the door to the conference room and I follow her into the hall. My gaze darts in the direction of the exit and I have the urge to flee, but then Barbara says, “This way, Ashley.” I tamp down the yearning to bolt as I take a deep breath and follow her deeper into the office space, and deeper into potential trouble.
She stops in front of a closed door with a nameplate that boldly states Colton Drake. “Here we are,” she says, smiling, as if she hasn’t a care in the world.
My gaze is glued to the nameplate. Seeing his name printed in dark, square letters, and affixed to a solid wood door, I vividly recall his strong masculinity, his alpha-maleness, the intimacy we shared at his cabin. Desire pounds through me and I wonder what the hell I’m doing here interviewing to be his assistant. I don’t want to be his assistant, I want to be his girlfriend—and I know the two roles will not co-exist.
Without warning, and without knocking, Barbara grasps the doorknob and pushes the door inward. My gaze goes to the tall, broad-shouldered man whose back is to us. He is looking out the floor-to-ceiling window, talking on his phone.
Like I said when I went to his house, he likes his views. My eyes widen as I remember seeing his truck in his driveway when I drove past his house three days before. Had he seen me? Is that why he wants to talk to me now? Does he know I’ve been semi-stalking him? Does he know I walked into his house uninvited? Will he have me arrested?
I fear I’m going to vomit, and I break into a cold sweat. His deep voice drones on in his phone, but he doesn’t turn around. It’s like he knows he’s torturing me.
“I’ll be in touch,” Drake says, then he turns around.
My gaze is riveted to his face, waiting to see his expression when he looks at me, but he completely ignores me.
“Ms. Wilson,” he says to Barbara. He’s wearing a well-tailored suit that makes him look unbelievably hot, and I wonder why he chose to be a business consultant rather than a model.
“Mr. Drake, this is Ashley Spencer.” She motions to me as if I’m just any old job candidate—which to her I am.
Time seems to slow as his eyes track in my direction, finally locking on me. I’m drawn to him in a way I’ve never been drawn to any man—ever—and I want to throw myself into his arms and have him kiss me with wild abandon. Well, maybe have Barbara leave first.
My face goes crimson at the thought.
Drake walks around the desk and holds out his hand. “Good morning, Ms. Spencer. I’m Colton Drake.”
I stare at his hand dumbly for a moment, then come out of my stupor and slide my hand into his large and powerful grip. The moment his skin touches mine, electricity pours through me like a living thing, and I nearly yank my hand back. I look into his eyes and I can see a glimmer there, like he knows the effect he’s having on me, but he keeps his expression cool and professional.
I absently wonder what Barbara makes of our interaction. Does she notice anything out of the ordinary, or does she just see a silly girl who is overwhelmed by the incred
ibly handsome CEO?
All thoughts of Barbara leave my mind when Drake releases my hand and says, “I’ll take it from here, Ms. Wilson.”
“Yes, sir.” She leaves the office, closing the door behind her, and I’m alone with Drake.
DRAKE
The look on Ashley’s face at my controlled behavior makes me want to smile—behavior I’m struggling to maintain because what I really want to do is take her in my arms and kiss her until she melts against me. But I pretend that this is a normal, unremarkable interview. Besides, it’s rather amusing to watch the expressions play across Ashley’s lovely face.
When Barbara brought me Ashley’s resume earlier, I’d stared at it, stunned that she would have the nerve to apply for a job at my firm. But Barbara had selected her as a candidate, and I had to admit she had good qualifications. Besides, the thought of working with her, having her as my personal assistant, is intriguing.
I smile at her, then motion to the pair of chairs in front of my desk. “Have a seat, Ms. Spencer.” Then I go around my desk and sit in my large leather chair.
Eleven
ASHLEY
I sit, glad that I don’t have to rely on my noodle-like legs, and wonder what he’s going to say.
“I understand Ms. Wilson was impressed with your interview.”
She was? That’s good to know. But why is he talking about the interview? Shouldn’t he be asking me why I tracked him down? Why I applied for a job to work for him? Why I don’t leave him alone and get on with my own silly little life?
“What makes you think you’d be a good assistant to me?” he says, his hands steepled under his chin.
“Uh,” I stammer, confused by his question. Is this going to be a real interview? I decide to play along, launching into the same answers I gave Barbara. I explain how detail-oriented I am, how conscientious I am, how I’m such a hard worker. All the while I’m thinking about how much fun we had at his cabin—having snowball fights and going snowmobiling. Then I think about the intimacy we shared at his cabin and I lose my train of thought.
His eyebrows quirk into a question.
“Uh, so,” I say. “I know I’d be the best administrative assistant you could have. Like I said, I’m a hard worker.”
A smile grows on his face as he sits back in his chair. “I’m well aware of that, as you so aptly demonstrated when you were my housekeeper.”
Irritation flashes through me. That was for pretend. Just for show—for Rachel’s sake.
He stares at me, obviously waiting for me to say something in reply.
Two can play at this game. “Right, so you know how hard I can work. I’m available to start right away, and I don’t mind working late on occasion.”
“Uh-huh.” He leans forward and rests his hands on top of his desk, then pins me in place with his gaze. “Why are you really here, Ashley?”
Oh boy. Here we go. “I found this job opening and . . . well . . . I am looking for a job.” A note of pleading comes into my voice. “I can do it, Drake.” Why am I suddenly desperate to have him hire me?
He stares at me a moment, then he sighs audibly. “You’re a good job candidate, Ashley. You’ve finished college, you’re sharp, you’re articulate, and I know you’re a hard worker.”
I smile, pleased that he’s actually considering hiring me.
“But,” he says, his gaze steely. “If I hire you, you’ll need to forget about what happened between us at the cabin.”
DRAKE
I’m not sure I can forget—in fact I know I can’t—but I can’t hire her if she thinks what happened there will have any bearing on her job. If she’s going to work for me, we’ll need to keep our relationship strictly professional.
Do you really think you can do that?
I watch her, taking in her breathtaking beauty, and know it will be a challenge. Still, I’m willing to give it a try.
You always did like a challenge.
ASHLEY
Forget what happened at the cabin?
My heart drops at the thought. I can never forget what happened. But he doesn’t have to know that. Then I consider why he would want me to forget about it. Well, dummy, he can’t be having a personal relationship with his employees, duh. I hold back a frown.
What if I admit I can’t forget about it? Will he go out with me? I pause as I consider the ramifications. I can’t be certain he wants to go out with me, especially after he told me I was for fun and games, and not for real life. Not only that, but I don’t think he would even consider hiring me if he had any romantic interest in me, so clearly he does not. And once I admit that I can’t forget about our time together, I won’t be able to take it back. He won’t hire me for sure. Then I’ll never see him again. “Yes, of course.” I swallow. “Absolutely.”
He stares at me, seeming to decide whether or not to believe me. Then he tells me the starting pay. “Benefits included,” he adds.
Is he going to hire me? A feeling of lightness sweeps over me. I’m going to work for Drake. I keep my voice calm. “Okay.”
He stands and smiles, then holds out his hand. “Welcome aboard, Ms. Spencer.”
I stand as well, my legs less shaky than before, and place my hand in his. The electricity is still as powerful as ever, but I force a neutral expression onto my face. If I want this to work, I will have to hide my attraction for my new boss. “Thank you, Mr. Drake.”
He releases my hand. “Wait here while I speak to Barbara.”
“Okay.” I sit again, giddiness that I’ll be with Drake every day washing over me, and it’s all I can do not to stand and do a happy dance. I’m excited to meet Emily for lunch now—oh boy, do I have news to share.
He’s left the door to his office open, and I turn my head to watch for his return. A few moments later he returns with Barbara. I stand as they enter the office.
“Ms. Spencer,” he says. “You will meet with Ms. Wilson now. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp.”
“Okay. Thank you again for this opportunity.”
All business, he nods once, then walks behind his desk and focuses on his computer screen.
“This way, please,” Barbara says.
With a parting look at Drake, I follow Barbara out of Drake’s office and to a small cubicle that’s strewn with manilla folders and stacks of brochures.
“We’ll fill out some paperwork, then I’ll show you around,” she says as she sits in front of the desk and invites me to sit in an empty chair.
After we’ve discussed benefits and filled out forms, Barbara leans back and smiles. “I think you’ll like working here. It can get stressful, but it’s also very rewarding. Drake Consulting has been in business for nearly fifteen years.”
My eyebrows pull together. “But Mr. Drake’s just in his twenties, right?”
She chuckles. “Yes. This firm was started by his father, but he took it over two years ago.”
“Oh.” I’m curious to know more about Drake’s family, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for a new employee to ask such personal questions about her new boss before she’s even begun working.
“Now,” Barbara says as she stands. “Let me introduce you around.”
The firm is small—less than fifteen employees—so it doesn’t take long to meet everyone. We end at a small cubicle very near Drake’s office.
“This is where you’ll work,” she says. “When you come in tomorrow, please come see me and I’ll make sure you have what you need.”
Excitement swells within me. My first real job. But I’m not fooling myself. I know the best part of this whole setup is that I’ll be working directly for Drake. With Drake. I’m in heaven.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I walk out of the building with a spring in my step, then I text Emily to let her know I’m ready to meet her for lunch.
Twelve
ASHLEY
“I got a job,” I say the moment Emily and I sit at the sma
ll table at the cafe near her office.
A look of surprise fills her face. “You did? Already? Where? When do you start? What will you be doing?”
I’m so excited, I don’t mind the deluge of questions. “I’m going to be an administrative assistant at Drake Consulting. And I start tomorrow.”
“That’s great, but I thought you wanted to get a marketing job.”
“They have a marketing department, so this is a way to get my foot in the door.”
“So you’ll be doing marketing stuff?”
Her questions are dampening my good mood, which irritates me. “Of course I will.” I know no such thing, but I’m not about to admit that to her.
“Good.” She takes a bite of salad. “Wait. That name sounds familiar. Where have I heard the name Drake before?”
I brace myself for her disapproval, but I can’t hold back the grin that takes over my face. “I’m going to be working with the CEO of the company. His name’s Colton Drake.”
Her eyes widen. “Isn’t that the man you told me about? The man you . . .” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Slept with?”
When I bite my lip and nod, she gasps.
“Ashley! How can you work for him? How could he hire you?”
Her obvious objection makes me defensive. “He can hire whoever he wants. It’s his company.”
“Well, I know that, but won’t it be weird?”
Probably. “No. We’re both grown-ups. We can handle it.”
She doesn’t say anything, just looks at me, then deliberately takes another bite of her salad and slowly chews.
“Aren’t you going to say anything else?” I almost need her to point out the flaws in this arrangement. That way I can counter them, and at the same time I can convince myself I’m not making a huge mistake.
Drake and Ashley: The Complete Story Page 17
