by Emelia Blair
Losing myself in my workout, it’s the vibration of my phone which is pressed against my thigh telling me my laundry is done.
Getting up, I turn around and see that I’m alone in the gym once again. The girl is gone.
I grab my stuff and head down to the laundry room. My basket is still on top of the machine and I start taking out the clothes. Hearing the scrape of a shoe behind me, I look over my shoulder and stiffen.
What the hell?
She’s changed out of her workout clothes and is now wearing an oversized soft pink shirt and tiny shorts, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her hair is freshly washed and there are shades of gold in the red, which makes me think it might not be her natural hair color. Her lips are full and pouty, her eyes big on her face.
Some would call her features exotic and her body sexy.
I just call her annoying.
She’s holding an empty laundry basket in her hand and she stares at me, her mouth twisting into a sneer.
Just what is her problem?
I don’t say anything, just turning my back to her and folding the dried clothing, calmly, as if I wasn’t fighting the urge to turn around and pick a fight with this new neighbor of mine who seems to have left her manners in the gutter somewhere.
After a few long seconds, I hear the scraping of her shoe again and then she steps into my peripheral vision, as she moves tight in right next to me and starts empty the washing machine.
I see her sneaking suspicious glances at me, which I do my best to ignore. God knows what she’s cooking in that strange brain of hers.
As I lose myself in the mindless task of folding clothes, I muse that she really is a lovely little thing. Terrible personality, but very attractive.
Before I know it, my hands are empty, and without a second glance at the brat standing next to me, I pick up my basket and leave, determined to avoid her over this weekend.
By Monday, I’m pretty pleased I didn’t manage to run into her even once.
So, when I walk into the office, my jaw drops to the floor, as I see the same red-headed girl sitting in the lobby.
It takes me a moment to register the man sitting next to her and my eyes drift to him as Raymond gets up and greets me with a smile, “Jace. Morning. I’d like you to meet my niece, Halley Cooper.”
Halley, who is frozen in her seat, gapes at me, as her uncle introduces me, “Halley, this is my colleague, Jace Hunter.”
“Well, fuck,” the expletive leaves both our lips at the same time.
2
Halley
Looking for a job is easier said than done.
So, although my freelance work brings in enough cash for me to live a sustainable life, my résumé is completely bare. And as my uncle pointed out a few weeks ago, I can hardly expect to be doing this all the time.
So, when he mentioned a colleague of his is looking for a Programming Officer, after laughing for two whole minutes at the strange designation, I found myself interested in the position. Even as an intern, working in Starr Industries would open up doors for me.
However, right now, as the man across from me glares at me, I realize it might not be as achievable of a dream as I had anticipated.
Jace Hunter is a handsome man. There’s no denying it.
He has rich brown eyes, a strong jawline, a straight nose and his hair is slicked back. The man clearly believes in grooming himself. But under that veneer of class simmers frustration and annoyance and I wonder how badly he wants to kick me out of his office right now.
He didn’t say a word to my uncle about our few run-ins, and I feel wary, thinking about them. My uncle has always been rather overprotective, ever since my mother disappeared, taking me with her, and then abandoning me in a parking lot. When he moved to DC, he had tried his best to convince me to move with him but I hadn’t been ready to move out of my hometown and so, he had spent hours lecturing me about men and the only thing they ever wanted from women. Considering the fact that I had never been in a single relationship aside from when Jerry Silverman tried to kiss me behind the swing-set in seventh grade. I spent my teen years holed up in my home—working on freelance projects, trying to save up for an apartment—I never really got the opportunity to go out.
During my Masters, I was focused on one thing and one thing alone—graduating with the highest marks. I didn’t pay attention to boys and since I was surrounded by two friends who also didn’t express any interest in that gender, the subject of boys was a casual concept.
I remember being asked out a lot, and I was friendly with the boys I knew in my class, but I turned all of them down and I retained those friendships in a flimsy sort of way.
After graduating, I threw myself into my work once again, and so when Uncle Raymond offered me advice, I believed him.
Of course, I scold myself, silently, I didn’t really have to take his words to heart.
“So,” I break the silence, awkwardly. “Should I leave after like ten minutes so Uncle Raymond thinks you conducted the interview and everything?”
Jace doesn’t stop glowering at me, and as soon as I make to stand up, he barks out, “Sit down!”
I immediately sit back down, automatically.
He leans back in his chair, rubbing his temples, a frown on his face.
The silence stretches on.
With me, as always, unable to handle the tense atmosphere, I blurt out, “So, I really like what you’ve done with this place.”
“Do you ever shut up?” He snaps.
I press my lips together, feeling a little miffed. What a frightfully horrid man! I feel a bit guilty though, recalling my paranoid behavior from last Friday. So maybe I kind of deserve it?
Out of nowhere, he asks, his tone bordering on angry, “What do you know about programming?”
I shrug. “I’ve mastered nearly all the languages. I know nearly everything there is to know.”
He glares at me as if I’ve just said something awful and when he grabs his laptop, I wonder if he’s planning to break it over my head. Instead, however, he opens it.
After a few minutes of fierce typing and clicking, he turns it around to face me. “Take a look at this.”
It takes me a minute to go through the data and my brows furrow together. “Why are you using Excel for this when it can all be done so much quicker using R?”
“Do it,” he says, curtly.
I, while disliking his tone, grab at the opportunity to prove myself. It takes me a little over five minutes to get the job done and I have a smug smile on my face as I hand the laptop back to him. “There.”
People usually take one look at me, they take in my flamboyant appearance and don’t see my brains. I like to dress loudly, I talk a lot and I can be hasty, but I know I’m smart and intelligent. I obtained a full scholarship from an Ivy League university and I graduated with honors.
I watch him study what I’ve done and despite the surly look on his face, he can’t hide the fact that he’s impressed.
I wait for him to say some words of praise.
Then the jerk doesn’t let anything out of his mouth, except, “Let me see your résumé.”
Grumbling silently, I hand him the paper.
Quietly, he looks through it.
I feel a little self-conscious because it’s got no jobs listed on it since I never really worked in a company before. I fidget with my hands, trying to hide my nerves, wondering why it’s taking him so much damn time to read through it.
Finally, he puts it down and eyes me with open dislike. “Fine. You’re hired.”
My mouth goes dry as my heart starts beating with excitement.
Yes!
“Did Raymond tell you about—”
I don’t let him finish, gesturing with my hand, trying to hide the flicker of disappointment, “Yes, I know, it’s an unpaid internship.”
“If you’d stop interrupting me,” he says, stiffly. “I was about to tell you that it’s not. This won’t be on the contract, but
I will be paying you out of my pocket. I’m not going to exploit you.”
My freelance gigs had ensured me hefty savings, so I hadn’t been particularly worried about the money. But when Uncle Raymond had mentioned this job to me, it had irked me how I would be expected to work a nine-to-five job and yet, I wouldn’t be paid a penny for all the work they would be taking out of me.
So, when Jace tells me that he will be paying me, I soften towards him.
He’s a decent sort, I decide.
I might just like him, I decide.
So, I beam at him, turning my full-voltage smile in his direction, making him blink, dazedly. “Thanks!”
He looks uncomfortable now. “Yeah, sure. So, when can you start?”
I stare at him. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing yet.”
“Oh.” He runs his hand over his head.
I wonder at how much hair gel he uses and whether his hand gets all sticky after he touches it. The thought grosses me out and I shudder.
He frowns and asks icily, “Is something bothering you, Miss Cooper?”
My face turns red when I realize he’s clearly noticed the way I’ve been gawking at his hair and I fumble with my hands. “No.” My voice sounds guilty like a child in trouble.
He sighs.
When I lift my head, I see the exasperation in his eyes.
“You’ll be working directly with me. The project we’ll be working on is for two very important clients, so I’m going to have you sign an NDA.”
When I don’t say anything, he raises a brow. “I assume you know what that is.”
“Of course, I do,” I smile, cheerfully. Asshole.
“You’re not answerable to anybody but me. Not even the Head of the department, Hashem. Of course, you’ll have to get your ID created by Lana; she’s HR. Her, you have to listen to as well. You have any problems, you come to me, and if I’m not available, you go to her. Or Kendall.” He looks thoughtful. “You can probably go to Kendall as well.”
Who the hell is Kendall now?
He drones on and on.
At some point, I find myself zoning out, my eyes on his forearms. With his sleeves rolled up, I can see they’re well defined, and I sigh in my mind, happily. If nothing, my new boss is quite attractive.
A sharp rap on the desk before me has me jumping and Jace sounds annoyed as he states, “If you’re done daydreaming, do you think you can start today?”
I choose to ignore the first part and nod. “Sure.” I look around. “Where do I set up?”
He gestures towards the two-seater in front of the small wooden, elongated, coffee table. “For now, sit there. I’ll get Lana to arrange a desk for you, outside, probably in my old office. Excuse me.” He gets up and walks past me, slamming the door shut behind him.
His abrupt departure gives me time to observe his office.
The room isn’t large, but it’s enough to accommodate a desk and chair at the forefront and a two-seater couch and a coffee table. His desk is a mess and there are two filing cabinets on each corner behind his seat. There’s a plant behind the door, which is quite clearly dead. I don’t think my new boss knows this either since the leaves on it are wet as if he sprayed it with water just before he let me in.
There is no personal item of his anywhere except for a pair of sweatpants, which are folded on top of one of the cabinets.
Does the man sleep here?
The door opens and I turn my head to see Jace standing there. “Come with me.”
Lana Thornton is a very pretty woman and while she has kind eyes, she seems very imposing.
She’s also quite pregnant.
There are two men in her office, one tall, with sandy hair and blue eyes. He’s leaning on the wall, behind her chair, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s got a very aristocratic look about him.
The other man has a shock of untidy brown hair and sharp blue eyes. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, and I can tell that he’s the charming sort. He’s sitting in the visitor’s chair and I can swear he’s holding a candy bar. “So, you’re the new intern,” he says, cheerfully as he takes in my attire.
There is nothing in his gaze to make me feel uncomfortable but when I see him grin at Jace, there’s mischief in his eyes.
I’m wearing hot pink tights and a green halter top, which is quite well fitted. I have two large feather, multi-colored earrings and my short hair is left down as usual. I’m not bothered by the perusal of my clothes. It’s not like I’m an employee here. I’ll just be an intern. And besides, I quite like my style.
“I like your earrings.” He grins at me.
I find myself grinning back. “Thanks. I got them at a flea market. Separately.”
He lets out a bark of laughter. “Oh, I like her.” Then, leaning forward, he offers me his hand. “Lucas Black. I’m the company lawyer.”
I shake his hand. “Halley Cooper. I’m the new intern.” I pause. “But you already know that.”
“Take a seat, Halley,” Lana says, kindly, to me, and to Lucas, she narrows her eyes. “Get lost, Lucas.”
Lucas glares at Oliver. “Let’s go, Oliver. We know when we’re not wanted.”
The man called Oliver smirks at the lawyer, and I realize that he’s British as he drawls, “She didn’t tell me to get lost.”
Lana raises a brow. “Do you need me to say it to you?”
He scowls. “I came all this way here—”
“You came to drop me because you won’t let me drive. Being pregnant doesn’t rob me of my motor skills. Now, go to work. And let me work as well.”
I notice the wedding rings on both their hands then the way Oliver leans over and presses a kiss to her forehead just confirms it. “Alright, I’ll see you at lunch.”
Lana is smiling and I can see why this handsome man fell for her. She has that aura of confidence and authority that just draws one in, aside from being strikingly gorgeous.
Lucas trails after him and he winks at me as he leaves.
There is no flirtatiousness in his eyes or posture, so I take it as friendly encouragement.
“So, Halley.” Lana takes out a folder. “You’re Raymond’s niece?”
I nod. “He took me in when I was eight.”
This makes Lana look up. “Took you in?”
Even Jace studies me.
Now, I wish I had kept my answer limited to a simple ‘yes’. “He was my mom’s friend and after she left, he took me in.”
“Oh.”
I can see from her face she’s resisting the urge to ask where my father was but I’m grateful she doesn’t. I really wouldn’t know what to say. I have very few memories of my mother but the ones I have are of an image of a woman who’s smiling and laughing. She loved me, so I never really understood why she left me. She never mentioned my father and Uncle Raymond professed to no knowledge of the man.
Lana asks other questions and she hands me a form to fill in. I see where my parents name is requested, so I put in Lily Cooper as my mother’s name and without hesitation, I cross out the part where it asks for my father’s name.
Filling in the data takes me a few minutes.
When I finally hand it over, she takes my biometric verification and then sends me on my way, promising I can collect my card tomorrow morning.
Jace puts me to work almost instantly.
Going through lengthy excel sheets, I let out a small groan after a few hours.
He looks up. “What?”
“Nothing,” I mutter.
He goes back to ignoring me and after another half hour, I let out another sound.
This makes him growl, “What?”
I make a face. “Your data is all over the place. I keep having to go up and then go down and then look at some random number somewhere and it’s annoying!”
He bares his teeth at me. “Good. Let’s see if you can do all that without talking.”
“I wonder if you can work without that stick up your ass,” I mumble
to myself.
His head shoots up as he asks in a dangerous tone, “What was that?”
“Nothing.” I smile, cheerfully at him. Prick.
By the time the lunch hour arrives, my stomach is growling and I start looking up nearby restaurants where I can eat. It feels weird to have no one to hang out with during lunch. Of course, it’s my first day here but I wish I had someone to talk to about my day. I fiddle with my phone, wondering if I should call Mia.
Mia Wong is my childhood friend. She’s an artist and she recently joined the Metropolitan Police Department as a sketch artist. Come to think of it, the station is around here somewhere. Maybe I can meet her somewhere in the middle.
There are still five minutes to the lunch break and I dial her number and wait.
I see Jace eyeing me but my hands are busy on the laptop, the phone nestled between my ear and my shoulder.
See, I’m working.
Mia picks up on the third ring.
“Hey, do you want to get lunch? I’m nearby.”
Her startled tone morphs into delight and we make plans to meet up at a deli, which is a few minutes walking distance from here.
When I finally put the phone down, I catch Jace staring at me and I stare right back. “What?”
He frowns. “Focus on your work.”
“But it’s nearly lunch. And I’m hungry.”
“Then get on your phone once you’re on break.”
“That would take up too much time.” I roll my eyes, “Relax. I already got five of your documents done.” I shut down the laptop, my eyes hurting from the constant glare of the screen. “I’m taking a two-minute break. My eyes will fall out at this rate.”
To my surprise, Jace doesn’t say anything to that and I open one eye to peek at my new boss.
He’s wearing an odd expression on his face and when he catches me staring at him, he looks away almost instantaneously.
Not bothered, I close my eyes and silently count to sixty, planning to jump out of my seat and leave immediately.
The sound of the door opening has me blinking.
