by Sage Rae
“Come on, Winnie,” Carter said, rolling his eyes. “You know you’re on the company, when you’re here. If you want to go to this hole in the wall restaurant, I can take you.”
Winnie blinked at him, clearly shocked at the offer. Of course, it was typical that Russell and Russell paid for everything for their secretaries and other employees on business trips. But Winnie didn’t know this—didn’t know anything about the professional world. Carter needed to push back at this, explain that he wasn’t doing this as any sort of romantic gesture…
But Cosmo continued. “You should, sir. I know your style from the last time you were here, and my pal Freddy drove you. Said that you like the unique places in the city. The parts of the city that we who grew up here really dig. I appreciate that. And if you take your secretary here to the restaurant, all the better. She’ll be working herself silly here in New York, I’m sure, and she’ll need to eat.”
“And I LOVE Italian,” Winnie said, turning her eyes back to the window.
Cosmo drove them directly to Manhattan, just a few blocks from where they planned to build the building alongside the park. There, they left their suitcases with Cosmo, who would drop them off at the nearby hotel, where Carter had booked penthouse suites for him and Dan, along with a smaller—yet still very cushy room—for Elise. Of course, now Winnie would have it.
Winnie and Carter stepped into the beaming sunlight, walking toward the glass front door of the office building. Winnie’s posture was stellar as she walked alongside him: confident, strong, to push back against any stereotypes he might have had about Texan farm girls. In fact, Carter felt sure that whoever saw them walking together probably assumed they were either dating, or equal partners in a business setting. He respected this about her.
They reached a boardroom, where Carter’s brother was meant to join them within the hour to prep. As they dove through the notes, Winnie continued to take precise scrawls, nodding, her eyebrows scrunched together in this adorable way that made a wrinkle form between. She asked appropriate questions, proving her intellect, and the fact that—despite her fear—she was still very much present. Very much a part of the Russell team.
“I can’t believe you’ve never really done this before,” Carter heard himself say. He glanced toward the clock, noting that his brother was a full twenty-five minutes late.
Winnie shifted her weight, gazing out the window of the boardroom. There, a face appeared—the direct lookalike to Carter Russell, his twin. Her jaw dropped at the image. Then, Dan snuck in through the door, his expensive shoes clacking on the wooden floorboards. He grinned at the image of Carter and Winnie, snapping his hands on his waist. “Well, well. I suppose you’ve already found us a new secretary, Carter?”
His smile was warm—too warm, when addressed to Winnie. He approached and drew his hand out, making Winnie jump up to shake it. Her tits bounced slightly, just enough to make Carter burn with jealousy. How dare his brother touch this one—the one he’d found for them? Carter stood as well, shaking Dan’s hand. “How is it going at the hotel?” he asked. “Did Penelope approve of the suit?”
“Oh, you know Penelope,” Dan said, falling into a seat. “If she’s not complaining about something, then she’d unhappy. So, this time, she had the hotel staff replace the flowers, because she said they clashed with the curtains. Whatever. Women, am I right, Winnie?”
Winnie tittered nervously, falling back into her seat and lifting her pen. “I’m not sure I’d know anything about that,” Winnie said, giving him a soft grin.
“Ah, well. Even better,” Dan sighed. He lifted his pen and tapped it against Winnie’s papers, shaking his head. “Wow. That’s pretty good shorthand. Where else have you worked?”
“This is her first job,” Carter said, his voice gruff, dominant. He wanted to make sure Dan knew that he was going to protect Winnie from him. That she was too pure to flirt with, to be made into a mockery. He remembered all those first days with Dan, when they were first billionaires. How they’d swapped stories of the girls they’d slept with. How they’d told each other everything.
Things were different, now. They were 34 year old men. Angry, competitive. All eyes of the world were upon them, and they had to act like it. It was all a game.
“Well, shall we head in?” Carter asked, tilting his head toward the clock. “I think they’re expecting us.”
“Sure thing,” Dan said.
“Good of you to come early,” Carter said, his voice sarcastic. “So that we could prepare.”
“That’s why we have Winnie, isn’t it?” Dan offered, blasting a hand toward her. “She’s gonna pick up all the slack. Aren’t you, Winnie?”
And it was true, she did. In the meeting about the new build, Winnie was diligent and silent, her eyes focused. Carter remembered how, in the previous few weeks, Elise had hardly been able to concentrate during meetings. Her body had hummed with sexual energy, so wanting to fall into Dan’s and make love. No, Winnie was a professional. A woman uninterested in sex and all the things that sex could muss up.
The meeting lasted over an hour. Carter walked through the motions of his professional persona, shaking hands and flashing that billionaire smile. The men they were working with—Remy and Tyler Short, another set of brothers—were serious and a bit older, in their 50s, and spoke with somber lips beneath thick mustaches. They didn’t flirt with Winnie at all, and barely looked at her, except to pass her a cup of coffee. She thanked them with a sweet, farm girl voice, and then returned to writing.
Outside the building, Dan and Carter paused at the steps. Dan leafed through his pockets, drawing out his pack of cigarettes and popping one into his mouth. The cigarette bobbed on his lip, as he spoke. “I think that went rather well. Don’t you?” he said to Winnie. “And damn, I think you’re a remarkable secretary, Winnie. Perhaps the best we’ve ever had.”
Winnie blushed, pressing a folder against her breasts. Her eyes searched Carter’s, then Dan’s, before answering. “Oh, it’s just, you know. A part of the job. I want to make sure I represent you both well.”
“Well, we’re grateful to you,” Dan said. He reached forward, placing his hand on Winnie’s forearm and squeezing just a tad too tight. “Why don’t we go for some afternoon drinks?”
“I don’t think so,” Carter said, interjecting. “I think I want to let Winnie settle into her room. And she’s never been to the city before—“
“Even better! I can show you around,” Dan said, leering at her. He leaned his nose closer to hers, looking like he was preparing to eat her.
Winnie’s eyes flickered toward Carter’s once more, looking for refuge. Carter again spoke, sounding even more arrogant than normal. “I think she’s exhausted. We all are. Why don’t you ask Penelope for a round of afternoon drinks?”
Dan scoffed. “Are you serious? Listen to yourself. You know she’s already sloshed by two p.m. Now, don’t get me wrong, Winnie. I love her. But she’s a sloppy one, my little skeleton love.”
“Skeleton love?” Winnie asked, her voice small.
“I haven’t seen her eat a carb in something like four years,” Dan said. He puffed his cigarette and bounced down the steps, toward his waiting car. “I’ll see you assholes later. We’ll have to catch up for dinner. Winnie, I know Penelope is dying to meet you.”
And with that, Dan fell into the back of the black vehicle and was swept away—toward whatever destination, whatever next woman who would open up her legs for him. Carter and Winnie remained on the steps, with the wind whipping around Winnie’s hair.
Winnie turned her eyes toward Carter. They burned with both embarrassment, and something else. Was it curiosity?
“Why don’t we go check out the city?” Carter heard himself ask, surprising even himself. “You’ve never seen it. And it’s true that there’s so much you’re missing, if you’re back at the hotel.”
“I’d like that,” Winnie whispered, giving him a soft smile. “I would like that very much.”
&n
bsp; Dinner
Winnie found herself in the back of Cosmo’s black car, strapped in tight beside Carter—whose smile was suddenly electric, sure, as Cosmo drove them across Manhattan, toward Central Park. Central Park had been a site in several of Winnie’s favourite movies, growing up. As far as she knew, it was the very origin of many love stories, the place where everything happened and everyone celebrated life and love.
“Don’t listen to my brother, by the way,” Carter told her, as the car eased to a halt alongside the massive park. “He’s a cocky asshole, and he thinks he owns you. He doesn’t. You’re our secretary, and probably our most professional one ever. He doesn’t know how to handle that.”
Winnie placed her heel on the pavement, her eyes inhaling the incredible green space before her. Central Park was at the centre of a world of tall buildings, of enormous, mid-century buildings, of a buzzing metropolis. But inside, Winnie could see a safe haven, filled with brewing fountains, little paths with joggers that rushed along like ants, and countless picnickers beneath the sun. It looked like a kind of paradise.
But her mind remained with Carter. “What happened to your secretary, anyway?” she asked, surprising even herself. She’d felt that this was an off-topic question. Surely he would have told her if he’d wanted her to know.
“I suppose she didn’t quite get along with Dan,” Carter said. He stepped toward the park, gesturing. “Shall we? I told Cosmo to pick us up after we’ve wandered around. I can show you some of the statues. We could even rent a little boat.”
“Didn’t get along? He seems nice enough,” Winnie offered, gliding alongside Carter. She was incredibly conscious that her fingers were just a few inches from his. She caught hints of his cologne in the air around them.
“I’m not sure. It was something about her he didn’t like. He didn’t go into it,” Carter said.
“Well, what if there’s something about me he doesn’t like?” Winnie said, stuttering slightly. “Is there any tip you can give me? Something so that I make sure I don’t make the same mistakes…”
“Trust me, Winnie. You won’t,” Carter said. He gave her a long, meaningful look—one she couldn’t quite read, before striding further into the park. Each time he looked at her, her heartbeat quickened. She sped up, making sure to stay at his speed.
Carter led her through Central Park, past the flower gardens, along Strawberry Fields, and next to the glittering pond. But when he asked her what she wanted to do next, she leaped at the opportunity to explore another part of the city. He grinned, his smile bright and wide and honest. “I’ve never seen someone so eager before,” he told her.
“You’ve just been around jaded billionaires for too long?” Winnie asked. Immediately, she smacked her hand over her mouth, realizing she’d gone too far. Alluding to his friends, to his brother, as arrogant and jaded billionaires? Good one, Winnie.
But Carter surprised her, laughing as he guided them back to his private car. “I guess you’re right about that,” he said, opening the door for her. He held her eyes for a long moment. “But you’re certainly the first one who’s ever called me out on it.”
Winnie’s cheeks burned bright red. She stammered, “Wait. No. I mean, that isn’t what I—“
“It’s really okay. I like your honesty,” Carter said. After a long pause, he tilted his head toward Cosmo. “Now, tell him where you want to go next.”
“Me?” Winnie asked.
“Sure. Anything at all.”
Winnie paused for a moment, her tongue gliding along the top of her teeth. The first words that came out of her mouth—The Statue of Liberty—sounded so youthful, like nothing that would make Carter interested in her, or respect her. Certainly people Carter was interested in wanted to go to museums, or secret cocktail bars… Or any number of other things Winnie herself couldn’t dream up.
But Carter didn’t miss a beat. He hopped around to the side of the car, sitting beside her and patting at the back of Cosmo’s seat. “You heard the lady. Step on it, Cosmo!”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Cosmo said, chuckling. He pressed his foot against the pedal, shoving them out into Manhattan traffic. Still Winnie’s eyes scanned every single view, tearing into the swarming people, the pigeons as they flocked and perched on statues, the world as it spun around her.
“I can’t believe this place,” she whispered. “It’s better than any dream I’ve ever had.”
“Ah, because New York itself was a dream,” Carter offered. “It was the dream of millions of immigrants, all yearning to come here and make something of themselves. You can still catch the hunger in their eyes sometimes, if you look at them. They’re still hunting for ways to build.”
“And you? Did you have that hunger?” Winnie asked, flipping her hair behind her shoulders. “You must have.”
What was making her speak this way to him? She’d never had such intimate questions for people before. Had never been brave enough. Not even that first boyfriend, who she’d thought she would marry. They’d spoken about their friends, about gossip—and about very little else, really. When Winnie thought about it more, it became even more clear that they’d had nothing in common.
Carter answered her. “I like to think I still do have that hunger. This is our first building in New York. And like I told you, I want to expand. To become one of the top architects in the world, not just the southern part of America.”
“I think you can do it,” Winnie said, her nostrils flared. Immediately, she regretted saying such a useless, child-like phrase. But she forced herself to gaze back at Carter, almost trying to prove that she’d said what she’d said on purpose.
“That’s terribly kind of you,” Carter said. “Thank you.”
Winnie and Carter spent the day in touristy areas: taking the ferry to the Statue of Liberty, heading to Coney Island, walking along the streets of Brooklyn. They fell into an easy rapport with one another, leading Winnie to make light jokes to him, tell him a few tiny “secrets” about herself. Just about her brothers and sisters back home. About how she wasn’t sure she would ever fit into a “big city” like Austin. Carter listened, adding his own personal stories as they walked.
“My brother and I, we came from a middle class family. Maybe you already know that,” he said. “And when we first started making money, it was difficult for me to convince myself that we belonged in that world, with those types of people. I remember once, we spent more than 200 dollars on a meal, and I nearly had a panic attack. But Dan, he always picked it up so smoothly. Like he was always going to be a part of this world,” Carter said. “Sometimes it drives me crazy.”
“Ha. My own brothers and sisters drive me wild. But none of them are my business partners. None of them are my twin, for that matter,” Winnie said. She had this strange instinct to slip her fingers through his, to hold his hand. But she held back, cursing herself. This was her boss. She’d known him only a day! Whirlwind romances weren’t exactly part of her universe. She had to remain professional.
Around seven that night, Winnie’s stomach growled like a lion. They were in the quiet of Cosmo’s car, driving back toward Manhattan. But Cosmo snapped his head around, grinning wildly. “I think this means you’re heading to that hole in the wall I told you about,” he said. “I can feel how hungry your secretary is from here, Carter. And I think she might eat me if you don’t do something about it.”
Winnie blushed, but couldn’t help but laugh. Carter snapped his hand on the back of Cosmo’s seat, acting playful. “All right, all right,” he said, pretending to give in. “I guess you win this time, Cosmo.”
Cosmo dropped them off at a street corner in the East Village: a seemingly magnetic place, lined with thick trees and brimming with art shops, with little book nooks and cafes. Winnie stepped onto the cobblestones, sliding her hands down the creases of her dress. Her back and legs ached from hours of walking, but her mind felt electric. She’d never had a better day in her life.
Carter placed his hand at the ba
se of her back as they entered the Italian joint, something she felt sure he did on instinct—not because he thought of her as anything else but a secretary (a young one, at that). The owner of the place bumbled forward, his large Italian belly shaking. “Hello there!” he said, sounding boisterous. “Two for this evening?”
The place was indeed small, and incredibly homey. It was lined with brick, and featured a small pizza oven in the back, with the fire flickering. Paintings filled almost every inch of the walls, and the tables flickered with candlelight. A few couples sat, their plates heaped with spaghetti and other variations of pasta and sauce. One of the women in a couple eyed Carter with ferocious eyes, seemingly recognizing him as that handsome, famous architect. Winnie felt her heart surge with jealousy, which was ridiculous. They weren’t on a date.
They were seated near the back. Winnie splayed her hands over the white linen tablecloth, feeling reminded of old family dinners at the farm. Carter splayed his napkin over his lap, poring over the menu. When the owner arrived back, her ordered the most expensive wine on the menu—and told the man to “keep them coming, after we’re done.”
Jeeze. This was a different league. Winnie swallowed hard, feeling another wave of anxiety. She’d held her own the entire day, pushed herself to keep up with the conversation. But now, they were stopped, stationary, forced to look at one another in the eye. Winnie found herself thinking of only the most boring things to say. Suddenly, she was that lame farm girl she’d always known she was. Suddenly, she couldn’t hold a candle to any other woman in New York. Why was she there?
They ordered—Winnie the lasagna and Carter the chicken Alfredo. Winnie drew her hair behind her ears, willing herself to speak. Her nerves seemed to pour out of her, floating over the table. She was sure Carter could smell it on her.
“Thank you again for coming all this way. You really saved me,” Carter said, lifting his glass. They clinked glasses.
“You saved me,” Winnie said. “I really don’t think I could have handled another few weeks in Austin without going completely broke. And now, I mean. Just today, I’ve been on an airplane! I’ve sat in on huge business meetings. I saw the Statue of Liberty, for God’s sake! I can’t even imagine telling my mother about all of it. It sounds like a dream.”