by Gemma Hart
Julian casually waved a hand. “Have you flown overseas with Mr. Grayson? Managed international conferences? Have you created and dismantled pop-up committees and teams, for research or otherwise? Handled the closings of accounts or deals at the executive level?”
Cora’s head nearly spun at rapid fire of questions. “Err…no, not exactly, sir. But I have run small teams for Mr. Grayson, organizing and handling media relations and—”
Julian raised a hand, stopping her. “It is without a doubt that you are a talented and hardworking individual, Miss Rámon. Your short but very impressive resume says it all. But this is a very serious job that requires years and years of experience. It is not something that can be learned in a few weeks.” Julian stood up. He didn’t know why his chest felt so tight, why his throat burned with regret. “I thank you for coming and am confident you will be successful in whatever you do. But unfortunately, I don’t feel you are the right fit for JB Enterprises.” He extended a hand.
It was a shame. He had felt a kind of spark from her that seemed reminiscent and fun. But regardless of his own feelings, he couldn’t let his business or work life fall apart. That was the one thing that needed to be a constant while he tried to figure out the rest of his life.
Cora stood up. She could see in his granite face that arguing her case would have no effect on him. Feeling bitter disappointment rising in her throat, she took his hand. His warm grasp nearly swallowed her own delicate hand but almost immediately he let go as he sat back down. A dismissal.
Cora turned around and walked out of the office that held the shattered remains of her hopes and future.
Six
“I’ll send over the necessary information tonight by courier. Once you have that, make sure you keep in regular communication with me. I want to know about any clue or trail you find, regardless of how small it is,” Julian said as he roughly pulled at his tie, loosening its hold on his throat.
“You got it, chief. Karen Judson or possibly Denton. Mother, Gloria. Although for them to have been gone this long, they might be using a totally different name by now,” Paulson, Julian’s newest private detective, said.
Julian nodded. Keeping the phone tucked against his shoulder, Julian shrugged one arm out of his suit jacket. Then switching the phone to the other shoulder, shrugged his other arm free. It had been a long day. And having three interviews added to his agenda had been draining.
“I realize that but so far all we have are the names she had prior to going missing. So use those till you find something new.” Julian felt the tense knot between his shoulders growing harder.
Paulson confirmed a few more details before hanging up. Julian held the phone in his hands as he tried to relax his body. He couldn’t shake the creeping feeling of something being…off. A bombardment of memories had attacked him all day. Normally, he was able to keep most of it at bay.
But today, he kept hearing the echoes of Karen’s cheeks being slapped. He kept seeing the flashes of purple and green bruises. With a mother like Gloria as her kidnapper, who could know what hell Karen had been enduring these past fifteen years?
He knew the hell his father had endured after Gloria had left. How he had crumbled and fallen apart. Patrick Denton had been a brilliant mechanical engineer with a bright career ahead of him. But once he had fallen for the volatile and violent Gloria, nothing mattered to him except her. He could find no fault in the woman, even when she would abuse her own daughter. Julian knew his father, upon falling in love, had renounced all loyalties to anyone (including his son) except Gloria.
It had disgusted Julian to see how completely blinded his father had become by his so-called love. Love had made him complicit in violence and abuse. Love had made him forget his duties as a father and protector. And for that he and especially Karen had suffered.
Julian had tried his best. He remembered the countless times he had tried to barricade Karen behind him as Gloria let loose her hailstorm of slaps and kicks.
So many times he had carried a battered Karen to bed, sitting next to her till she had relaxed and felt safe enough to go to sleep. “I’ll always be here, Kar,” he had whispered to her. “I’ll always be here for you. Don’t be afraid.”
Julian’s throat tightened as he remembered the promise he had constantly made but had never been able to keep.
Once Gloria had disappeared, Patrick had lost all will to move forward. He left his job, gave up engineering, and became obsessed with finding his wife. So obsessed had he become, he would often forget to pay the electric bill or buy food for the two of them.
Patrick’s first wife, Julian’s mother, had died when Julian was only two. Julian had no recollections of his mother but he was certain his father had not fallen apart then as he had for Gloria.
Julian had never been more bitterly disappointed or angry with someone as he had been with his father. And it was thanks to his father that Julian got his first lesson on love: it was dangerous.
Left uncontrolled and it could destroy a man. And Julian had worked hard to leave behind everything that his father had ruined to build up a new life set on the grounds of distance, control, and power. He would never make the mistakes his father made.
He would only try and fix them.
Well, fix one of them.
Feeling a surge of sudden anger, Julian turned around and slammed the phone back into its receiver. Goddamn the man.
If his father had had just even a moment of clarity that hadn’t been blurred by his love for Gloria, he would’ve seen how desperately a little girl needed rescuing and protection. But instead he had let her slip through the cracks and away from Julian.
At his sudden slamming, a small mountain of folders spilled from his desk. Cursing, he looked down at the sea of scattered papers. On top of the pile rested a single neatly typed resume.
Cora Rámon.
Throughout the day, he had fought and wrestled with his personal demons. He had tried to hold back his anger and regret as he closed mergers and signed contracts. But it was only during that small sliver of an interview that he had felt any freedom from his burdens.
He had been surprised with how much the girl had gotten him to feel in such a short amount of time—anger, delight, laughter, admiration. He could hardly remember the other two candidates he had interviewed that day.
A soft knock echoed through his office before Trisha gently opened the door. She must’ve heard him slam the phone.
“Do you need anything else for tonight?” she asked, making no mention to the scattered folders or his disheveled appearance.
Evening had fallen and the work day was over. Julian wanted nothing more than to go home and stand under a hot shower. “No, Trish, I’m good for today,” he said, looking down at the scattered papers.
A decision came to him. It was impulsive and maybe a bit reckless but he was in need of some kind of respite from himself. And there seemed to be only one person who could give it.
“Trish,” he called out, “cancel the rest of the interviews. I want to hire Cora Rámon.”
Seven
“Try and really learn the first time if you can,” Trisha said in her soft but authoritative voice. “I’ll be leaving the state within a few weeks so I won’t be around as a resource for you.”
Cora nodded as she watched Trisha move quickly but efficiently around. Trisha motioned for her to scoot her chair over to her computer. She reviewed first the emails that the CEO received and how to prioritize them.
Just from the few dozen that she watched Trisha answer, Cora could see how well entrenched the woman was in the CEO’s affairs. She was suddenly beginning to understand the scope of her responsibilities as the personal assistant to Julian Benedict.
Cora still couldn’t believe she had gotten the job. She had gone home after the interview with a cheap bottle of wine, ready to drown her sorrows. How could she have blown such an important interview? All of her dreams and hopes had been dashed within thirty minutes.
&n
bsp; But it was while she was deep into her third glass of wine that Trisha had called, offering the covetous job. Cora had nearly done a comical spit take upon hearing Trisha’s softly spoken words. She couldn’t believe it. “Are you sure? He really meant for you to call me?” she had asked, needing verification.
But it had been true. And Cora had dressed in her best skirt and blouse the next day to start as personal assistant to the CEO of JB Enterprises.
Except now, several weeks into her training, Cora wondered if she really should’ve been offered the job. Trisha spoke to various vice presidents of different departments as if she was on par with them. And she seemed quite knowledgeable about all of their internal discussions.
Cora sat quietly behind Trisha’s own respectably large desk as she watched the woman work. Trisha was constantly moving. Cora felt a little uneasy and useless as she tried to absorb everything around her.
But while she watched Trisha take a call from yet another vice president, the other secondary phone on her desk rang. Cora put her hand over the receiver, giving Trisha a questioning expression. Trisha nodded her permission and Cora answered the phone.
“Mr. Benedict’s office. This is Cora speaking. How may I help you?” Cora asked, using her best smooth office speaking voice.
“Cora? Who’s Cora? Where’s Trisha?” a gruff male voice asked.
This didn’t sound like any VP. He sounded grizzled and rough-edged. “Trisha is unavailable at the moment. But I can assist you. May I ask who’s calling?” Cora asked.
“Well, this is Paulson. I’m calling to give my week’s report.”
“Paulson? Is that your first or last—”
“Paulson? Is that Paulson on the line?” Trisha asked suddenly, holding her own phone down by her shoulder.
Cora nodded, surprised by Trisha’s sudden alertness. Immediately, Trisha excused herself from the vice president of one of India’s largest tech companies and took over Cora’s phone.
“Paulson?” she answered. Trisha immediately got out a notepad and began taking quick notes, nodding as she listened to whatever this Paulson had to say. “Fine. That’s fine. I’ll send this to Mr. Benedict right away. If he has any questions, he’ll reach you.”
Trisha ripped out her notes before Cora could sneak a look and headed towards Julian Benedict’s office. Turning around, Trisha said softly, “If you get any calls from a Paulson or Montgomery, immediately hand them to me. Until directed by Mr. Benedict, those calls are strictly only my responsibility.”
Cora nodded a little dumbly as she watched Trisha disappear into the large office. Who the heck were Paulson and Montgomery? And why did they rank so high in Trisha’s priorities? She had practically hung up on the India VP to speak with this Paulson.
Looking at the closed double doors of Julian Benedict’s office, Cora felt a little bit of envy at Trisha’s obvious close relationship with the CEO.
Mr. Grayson was a sixty-four year old man who had grown up in the rural parts of Ohio. Even with his wealth and worldly opportunities, there was still a tinge of country ignorance and even racism that tinged the way Mr. Grayson spoke.
But not with Julian Benedict. From the moment she had stepped into his office, her heart hadn’t stopped thumping against her ribs.
At well over six feet, the man had a commanding presence that oozed a sense of confidence and power. With a face that was both rugged yet refined, it was no wonder Forbes magazine had dubbed him the “Model Millionaire.”
Cora shuddered as she remembered how his eyes had cut right through her, as if he had been able to see straight into her beating heart. When she had thought she had blown the interview, Cora had actually felt a tiny bit relieved. How could any sane, red-blooded woman work under such a man without constantly drooling?
Yet Cora remembered all the nights her mom had flirted for a few extra pesos or for even just another bottle of beer. She remembered how low her mom had stooped so she could find herself a hot meal. That tin shack made everything echo and the sounds of a man grunting echoed loudest.
No, she couldn’t let herself be distracted by a handsome face. Security, stability—that’s why she made that dangerous crossing. That’s why she moved to New York. That’s why she applied at JB Enterprises. She couldn’t let herself lose focus.
Suddenly, Julian stepped out of his office with Trisha fast behind him.
“Mr. Adnan has called to confirm the lunch and the driver is ready downstairs,” Trisha said, looking down at her smartphone to confirm the details.
Julian nodded as he buttoned up his suit. Cora had never known a man could look so lethal in a suit. Julian didn’t seem to even notice her as he walked right passed her towards the elevator. Cora sighed, feeling both relief and regret, when Julian suddenly turned on his heel and rapped his knuckles on Trisha’s desk.
Cora snapped her head up.
“I’d like you to go home early today and pack. A driver will come pick you up from your place at four,” he said, his voice solid and brooking no argument.
“Pack?” Cora echoed, feeling confused. “Where am I going?”
Julian’s dark eyes glimmered with a teasing light even though his face remained placid. “Paris.”
“Paris! I can’t go to Paris!” Cora cried out. How could she suddenly just up and go to Paris?
Julian’s brows knitted together in vague bewilderment. “Do you not have a valid passport?” he asked.
“No, of course I do,” Cora quickly replied. Of course she did. That’s the first document you forge after coming across the border.
Julian’s face cleared as he nodded. “Good. I’m meeting with some of the European heads tomorrow and I’ll need an assistant.”
Cora could hardly keep her jaw from dropping open. “Bu-but I haven’t quite yet learned….I mean, wouldn’t Trisha be—”
“Trisha needs to stay here so there will be balance and order in the office.” Julian threw his trusted assistant a wry look. Trisha merely gave a soft smile. “You’ll come with me and learn along the way. After all,” he said, giving Cora a dark teasing look that nearly made her heart stop, “didn’t you tell me you had much to offer JB Enterprises?”
Cora remembered what she had said during her interview. But this was all so sudden. She felt like someone had picked her up and tossed her into the deep end of a pool, expecting her to expertly backstroke her way to safety. She couldn’t believe she would not only be leaving the country but doing it alone with Julian Benedict.
“So, leave early and pack. Don’t forget your passport,” Julian said as he briskly headed towards the elevator before Cora could say anything more.
Paris. City of Lights.
With Julian Benedict. The Model Millionaire.
Goddammit, Cora thought. So much for being focused.
Eight
“You know, people think the more money you have, the better resources you’d clearly have to make yourself disappear. But it’s the opposite. The poorer you are, the more obscure you can make yourself. It’s like dropping a needle into a big fucking haystack.”
Julian sighed. “Paulson, is that your way of telling me you have nothing new to report?”
He turned around to watch Cora speak with someone in the hangar. They had just landed in a private airstrip just outside Paris.
It was 2 AM and still dark. Julian had paused by the jet when Paulson’s call had come in. He had motioned for Cora to go ahead. Until he knew more about the little pixie, he didn’t want her to know just yet about his search. It was too personal to reveal to just anybody.
Paulson’s husky laugh crackled through the phone. “I found a trail of a Gloria Judson traveling through Utah and into Nevada. In Nevada the trail kind of deadends for a while. I think they set up shop near Las Vegas.”
Julian felt his heart stop and his throat clench. He had never heard this before. Montgomery had only given him information about them that ended in Florida, near Miami, before losing their trail. Paulson had confirmed t
he Miami details last week. But this—Utah, Las Vegas—this was all new information.
“And?” Julian demanded, hungry for more. So Gloria had managed to schlep Karen all the way to Nevada. Las Vegas seemed like a place that would suit Gloria’s personality. How long did they stay there? What did Gloria do to make a living? Who took care of Karen? Where did she go to school?
“That’s it, for now,” Paulson’s gruff voice said plainly. “It ends there and I can’t seem to pick them up anywhere afterwards. I’m still snooping around Las Vegas and I think I have some leads that might take me north towards Carson City. I’ll let you know soon.”
