Broken Records

by Cassie Mae

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting I have to get to.”

  He leaves the room, and my body temperature plummets. I take a deep breath, trying to forget that suit, that wrist, that smile. Oh man, I’m in trouble. Friday night was a one-time thing; it was just sex, but the fluttering wings in my stomach are singing a very different tune.

  “Let’s get back to work, everyone,” Alex says, knocking me out of my Ethan stupor. “If you’re interested in the position, please email me your resume. Also include a cover letter. I’ll be setting up interviews for the tail-end of the week.”

  I walk out of the conference room with Nora at my side. She’s talking a mile a minute, and I attempt to pay attention. “I’m a shoo-in. Mr. Davis loved me.”

  “Yes, you should absolutely apply.”

  “What about you? Are you going to at least give it a shot?”

  It would be a great opportunity… but to work for Ethan and see him every day, tugging at his tie, adjusting his sleeves, mumbling to himself when he’s reading an email that annoys him? I don’t know if I could handle it. The thought pisses me off. The last time I let a guy consume me, I lost everything I had worked for and more. I’m not about to repeat history.

  I’ve come too far from that broken girl I left behind in New York. I’m stronger than my hormones, and the only way to prove that to myself is to face this head on. I could do that job with my eyes closed, and whether he’ll admit it or not, he knows it to. I’m the perfect candidate.

  I turn to Nora with a confident smile. “You bet I am.”

  She holds her hand out to me. “Let the best intern win.”

  I shake her hand, knowing damn well I got this in the bag.

  “I worked customer service for four years.”

  I shift in my seat, brows rising at the interviewee. “What brought you into the Broken Records internship?”

  Josh chuckles to himself. “Honestly? I thrive in grunge work. It’s why I enjoyed the call centers as much as I did.”

  “So… your interest in music is…?”

  “About the same as any average Joe.” He leans forward, tapping his fingers on the edge of my desk. “To be frank, Mr. Davis, I would fare better behind a desk than I would behind a soundboard.”

  A small hmm escapes me. Interesting applicant, I’ll give him that. Josh’s been one of the quieter interns, and truth be told, I wasn’t sure who he was until he stepped into my office. If I was being honest with myself, I would’ve held off on interviews and simply hired the intern I’d like to see just outside my office, purely for selfish reasons. However, Josh just triggered something I hadn’t thought of before—and it’s something I’m going to have to keep in mind for the next applicant on my busy morning schedule, no matter how much I’d like to hire her.

  I plaster on a grin. “Well, Josh, thanks for your candidness.” I rise from my seat, Josh following my lead. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity.”

  We shake on it, and I lead him out of my office. My blood thickens each step toward the door, heart straining to pump it through my veins. Paige and I have spoken less than ten words since I took out all my stress on her. I wish I could act as if I don’t care what she’s thinking or how she’s feeling, but I’m so consumed by it that I doubt I’d be able to mask even an ounce of curiosity. I worry that the moment I shut us in for the interview, I’ll bombard her with the questions plaguing me every time I’m given time to think, and that’s not even the thing that worries me most—it’s admitting that while I still feel her skin, smell her perfume, recall her amazing body with perfect clarity, I hope for another run-in that allows me to indulge in it all over again.

  My blood has reached a gelatin-like stage by the time I open the office door for Josh and let my eyes wander around the waiting area. Paige is on time—five minutes early, actually—for her scheduled appointment, lounged in a seat, reading a thick book I can’t see the title for. Her long legs are covered in black tights, leading up to a pair of red shorts. She’s donning a Rolling Stones t-shirt, cinched tight at the waist and dipped low in front. I smirk at the tiny black blazer, her one attempt at looking business casual for the interview.

  Josh and I shake hands once again, his voice muffled in my ears as he says goodbye. I nod, a sore attempt at trying to seem focused as he heads back downstairs.

  I clear my throat once he’s left. “Paige?”

  Her eyes float up to meet mine, and she slowly closes her book. I feel the need to swallow, but my throat has dried in the one second it’s been since I said her name.

  She pushes from her seat. “Ready for me?”

  There’s a twitch in my slacks at the entendre, and I scratch my eyebrow to cover the fact that I cannot stop staring at her plump lips, her sleek neck, and wondering about her budding nipples under all her layers. Instead of answering, I give her a sharp nod and turn on my heel, purposefully taking long strides to get to my desk. I need a place to at least try to hide the effect she’s having on me.

  Like an answer to an unsaid prayer, my office phone goes off the moment she enters.

  “Have a seat,” I say, “This’ll just take a sec.”

  She complies without a word, without even an amused expression, and I let that reaction bother me longer than it should.

  “Ethan Davis speaking,” I answer, remaining on my feet for the call.

  “Oh, glad I caught you, man,” my neighbor Elliot says over the line. “I was just heading into work, and I think I heard your dog… I don’t know. He sounded pretty upset.”

  My brows furrow, and I notice that Paige echoes the expression while she watches me. “Upset how?”

  “There’s a lot of whining. Loud enough I can hear him outside your place.”

  I reach for my jacket hanging over the back of my chair, making sure my keys are still snug in the pocket. “How long ago?”

  “I’m on your porch right now. Called your cell, but went to voicemail. Gotcha on your work phone, obviously.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go check on him.”

  “Yep. I’d hurry… he’s getting louder.”

  I put the phone on the hook, heart thundering for a whole different reason now. Shoving my keys into my pant pocket, I let my eyes flick up to the clock. I’m interviewing all morning, got to prepare for a press conference this afternoon, and without a receptionist, if something needs rearranging, it’s up to me to do it.

  “Come with me,” I tell Paige, hurrying past her. She doesn’t hesitate, getting to her feet and following me out of the office and into my private elevator.

  “You all right?” Her eyes lift to mine as the doors shut. “Things must be pretty serious since I’m not forced to take the stairs.”

  I cut a sideways glance at her, corners of my mouth twitching as I cover a laugh.

  “Where was your previous employment?”

  Her eyes widen at my abrupt subject change, but she quickly composes herself. “Club server back in New York.”

  “Reasons for leaving?”

  The elevator dings open, and she walks backward out of it in front of me, a smirk on her red-painted lips. “They couldn’t handle my cheery disposition.”

  Again, I have to hide my amusement, my stride lengthening enough to pass her and get to the front doors first. “Why are you interested in the assistant position?”

  “Catering to your every need is what I long for,” she teases. “I’d love to actually get paid for it.”

  My lips finally give way, cracking upward as I wave down Reg at the end of the block. He straightens behind the wheel and starts her up.

  “I know this is informal,” I tell Paige, touching her elbow and leading her to the car. “But this is your interview, so maybe cool it with the sarcasm.”

  Her eyebrow tilts upward, suggesting that she has no intention to take my advice and no remorse for being flippant so far. Part of me wonders if she knows what she’s doing, that she sees my underlining panic th
at something is very wrong, and she’s only trying to take my mind off it.

  I slip into the backseat next to her, and my eyes slide to her soft face turned slightly to watch the streets as Reg starts driving us to my place. I wonder what’s running through that mind, what makes her so… Paige. I realize I don’t know that much. She lives on a couch with four other people, listens to music at bus stops, has a cup of coffee in her hand every morning and an iPod every night. My fingers curl in my pockets as I hold in my desire to ask deeper questions. I’ve already pushed too far with her, and with everyone breathing down my back, a sex scandal is the last thing I need.

  But somehow, she’s made me not only want to know more things about her… I want her to know more about me.

  Her glance cuts suddenly to mine, and I blurt out, “Do you have a best friend?”

  She’s quiet, her lips slightly parting as she contemplates her answer. “I used to.”

  “If they called for help…?”

  “I came running.” She shakes her head, laughing at herself. “Best friends are overrated.”

  The answer dips in my gut, and I reach out to pat her knee, hold her hand, just to do something to take away the sudden slump of her shoulders, the frown in the corner of her mouth, but Reg clears his throat, and my brain thinks better of it.

  He stops the car in front of my place, and I set my hand on the door handle. “The good ones aren’t overrated,” I tell her, then lean up to Reg. “Stick around for a bit.”

  “Will do, Mr. Davis,” he says, and Paige and I climb out. Her confused grin fades quickly when she hears the cries of my pup, and I rush around the car and up the front porch.

  “Hang on, boy,” I call through the door as I fumble with my keys.

  Pepper cries louder at the sound of my voice, and I can feel Paige’s spine straighten next to me. I’d take more time to notice how her concern adds an extra race to my heart if I weren’t so terrified about what my best bud has gotten himself into.

  The main floor is as dark and undisturbed as I left it early this morning, so without much thought, I push past Paige and take the stairs up two at a time, following the ringing whines that dig a hole of panic with every new step. When I reach the second landing, I find Pepper stuck at the top of the stairwell. His nails scratch against the banister, his belly dragging across the step as he tries to pull his head free from between the rungs.

  The wave of relief that washes over me has my lips curling upward. “Damn it, boy,” I say, flumping down next to him. “How in the world did you get in there?”

  Paige appears at the landing, eyebrows lifting. “Oh my… poor thing.”

  “Wanna give me a hand?”

  She quickly scales the rest of the steps, settling on the step above Pepper while I grab him around his thick middle from below. Pepper’s entire body shakes in my arms, and I lean in close to him. “Gotta calm down, bud. Shh… we’ll get you out.”

  Paige smooths his ears back, carefully settling her hands near his neck rolls to hold him steady. “What’s his name?”

  “Pepper.”

  “Hey, Pepper. What a crazy way to meet someone, huh? I promise I’m not scary, though a lot of people may think so with all this gear.” She laughs, gesturing to her lip ring and the metal all along her ears, and I can’t help but crack a grin at her tactic. “So hold real still, boy. Then we can have a proper introduction, okay?”

  Her hands give him a reassuring squeeze, and I slowly feel Pepper relaxing in my hold, and I pray that my heart doesn’t give out with how hard it pounds at the exchange.

  “The magic of a woman’s touch,” I muse, eliciting an amused glance from Paige. “Pull on three?”

  She nods and counts it off. I brace Pepper’s flailing legs and pull, stopping the instant his cries squeak out. Paige sighs and soothes Pepper back down, examining his head. As soon as he’s relaxed, I release his legs back to the stairs.

  “Do you have oil?” she asks. “Butter? Anything like that?”

  I nod, heat sprouting up my neck at the fact that I have loads more oil than butter; my fridge is practically empty, most likely containing a splash of milk and a six-pack. My garbage can, however, is full of takeout boxes.

  I push to my feet to grab the oil, but Pepper starts crying the moment I let go of him.

  “I’ll grab it,” Paige says, allowing me to settle back down next to my dog. From her stance, I see she’s about to descend the stairs to look in my dismal fridge for butter, so I quickly point over her shoulder.

  “Second door on the right, top drawer in the nightstand by the window.”

  She nods and hurries down the hall and out of sight. Pepper shifts and shakes in my arms, and I try to calm down so it doesn’t freak him out more. Knowing Paige is in my bedroom is enough to spark my nerves, but having her rummage through a drawer for a hefty bottle of water-based oil is making the heat not only go through my neck, but through my entire face. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m a ripe tomato when she gets back.

  Pepper whines, and I stroke his head. “I will tear down this banister if I have to, ‘kay? Stop your worrying.”

  His eyes strain up to look at me, and I smile so he knows that he’s not in trouble.

  Paige comes back, holding the open bottle of oil out to me, her other hand cupped. “Hold this.”

  I take the bottle from her, and she smothers Pepper from his ears down to his neck. I’m so glad she’s not giving me shit for how big this bottle is.

  “A little more,” Paige asks, holding her slick hands out to me. I fumble for the oil, mind momentarily distracted by the glossy sheen over her skin, entranced by the pool of oil that I pour into her palm. I let out a long breath as she goes back to Pepper, and her teeth snake out to bite away a grin.

  He slides in my arms, and I drop the oil to get a better grip on him.

  “Almost there…” Paige sings, and in the back of my mind, I note again just how gorgeous her voice is.

  With one last pull, Pepper slips free and barrels into me, his extra weight making me slide right into the oil bottle. It spills out over the step I’m on and drips down the staircase. My ass is soaked; good thing I wasn’t wearing the Armani. Not that I would care even if I was, with the relieved dog licking my face and an oiled-up Paige watching with unbridled amusement.

  “Someone’s going to need a bath,” Paige says, keeping her hands off of everything, including herself.

  “Oh, he’s not fond of the b-word.” I manage a laugh, nudging Pepper away from my face.

  “Wasn’t talking about him.” She eyes my slacks, and I shake my head, trying to get up in the mess of oil. Paige reaches out to help, but stops when she notices all the oil still on her palms.

  “This is without a doubt, the most interesting interview I’ve had,” she says just as I get to my feet.

  “Likewise.” I reach down for the oil and cap what’s left of it. Pepper has averted his attention to his other rescuer, pawing at Paige’s waist. I watch with fascination… and something else I can’t put my finger on. My throat runs dry, ruining my light-hearted mood.

  “So, how am I doing?” she teases, but her smile fades as soon as she catches whatever expression I’m donning. Her hand pauses in its strokes to Pepper’s already oily fur.

  I take a deep breath. “You won’t be getting the job, Paige.”

  She tilts an eyebrow, eyes piercing into me, probably searching for sarcasm, but she won’t find any. Her lips flatten into a straight line, all for the small indent her lip ring creates.

  “I want a real interview.”

  “It won’t change my mind.”

  She crosses her arms, obviously not caring anymore about ruining her clothes. “You had it made up before I even applied, didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  “What was it, then? Yes, I’m sarcastic. Yeah, I’m going to call you on your shit. But I know what I’m doing. You didn’t give me a chance to prove it in the interview, but you trust my judgment, right? That’
s why I’m listening to those demos every day. Or are you just messing with me for your own amusement? You just want some ass? Well, you already got that, so why the hell are you still screwing around with my head?”

  Pepper must sense the anger emanating from Paige ten times more than I do, because his tail tucks between his legs, and he trudges toward my bedroom. But me? I’m surprisingly calm despite the look she’s giving me—mostly because her accusations are ludicrous, and it’s relieving to know that she’s not as put together as she seems; I hated thinking I was the only one losing my damn mind.

  “You do know what you’re doing,” I tell her, plopping the bottle of oil on top of the steps. “It’s why I won’t let you get stuck into a glorified secretary position. You’re worth more than that.”

  She jerks back, obviously struck speechless by my response. I allow myself a speck of pride to cause that reaction; it’s been rare with her. The corner of my lip twitches up, and I push from the wall and tread the two steps up into the second floor hallway.

  “I’ve got a bathroom here you can wash off in.”

  Her eyes stay glued on the spot I just left for three, four seconds before slowly drifting up to meet mine. My chest throbs as she slowly and deliberately steps up to me, her closeness fueling my thoughts into that dangerous territory I’d convinced myself was sexual frustration and nothing more. What a load of shit.

  She searches my eyes, and then without warning, her lips press firmly against mine, and I lose every ounce of control I foolishly thought I could keep at bay.

  Nobody except for my family has ever thought I was worth anything. My entire life I’ve been bossed around, told I was only as good as the next girl. That for every one of me there were thirty other girls just as capable. Just as talented, smart, and pretty. I was a nobody, until now.

  For whatever reason, Ethan sees something in me that I was beginning to doubt was ever there. His words go right to my heart, spreading warmth through my entire body and melting the ice in the cold corners of my soul.