“Good to know.”
SIXTEEN
Char
All of my enthusiasm disappears the moment I walk into the Gritty Voice office. The receptionist greets me at the front desk. She’s familiar to me in an indistinct way, and I scramble to figure out how I know her.
“Welcome. How may I help you, dear?” Her sultry voice washes over me like battery acid. Oh, no. Just no.
Lingerie girl.
I’m trying to speak, but all I can see are the many, many condoms spilling out of her purse. I picture her in her sexy negligee, the same strawberry blonde hair, the same catlike eyes. It all adds up too perfectly.
I instantly know that I hate this girl.
“Can I help you?” she asks again, looking concerned. She doesn’t recognize me. Or if she does, she’s not letting on.
“Um, yes.” I try to pull myself together and focus on what I’m here for. “I’m Charlotte Hart. This is my first day of work. I’m supposed to check in with the editor.”
“That’s right, I heard you were coming in today!” She beams, holding out her hand. “I’m Taylor Patterson. It’s nice to meet you, Charlotte.”
I shake her hand, silently listing all the things I hate about her.
Her name.
Her voice.
Her perfectly curled hair.
Her eyelashes that seem to have no end.
The fitted pantsuit she’s wearing that shows off her cleavage.
Honestly. I bet if I peeked inside her purse right now, I’d find a plethora of contraception. It’s like she’s prepared for Max to walk in at a moment’s notice.
“There’s a few forms we need you to fill out,” she says, handing me a clipboard with paperwork attached. “Tax documents and safety procedures—I’m sure you know the drill. After you’re done, I’ll show you around and introduce you to the staff. Everyone’s really excited to meet you.”
Her smile.
The nice act that’s so clearly fake.
These forms. Because she touched them.
I take a seat in the waiting area, looking around. This place is unlike anything I was expecting. When I think of a newsroom, I picture lots of cubicles, people shouting on the telephone, computers, drawing boards, and so on.
This is the opposite.
The walls are painted in earthy hues, the back one attached to a cascading waterfall. Several sofas and chairs are scattered throughout the center of the room, like in a hotel lobby. People (I’m assuming writers) are lounging on them, their laptops perched lazily in their laps, reminding me of the way Trevor works. They all have headphones plugged in their ears, and they’re not dressed up like Taylor or me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were sitting in their living rooms at home, no cares in the world.
Once I finish filling out the required paperwork, Taylor escorts me to the back of the building. On the way there, we pass by a room filled with camera equipment, spotlights, softboxes, and a green screen. Just before they shut the door, I see an Asian woman sit behind a desk in front of the green screen. I didn’t realize they film here as well.
The plaque on the next door reads “Jason Briggs, Editor in Chief.”
“The new hire is here!” Taylor calls out, knocking on the door before she opens it. She motions me in. “You’ll like Briggs. He’s a sweetheart. He’ll explain your responsibilities and show you the ropes. By the way, it was nice to meet you, Charlotte.”
“You as well.” Not.
I step inside, then Taylor closes the door behind me.
The first thing I notice is that there are a shit-ton of books everywhere. Piled on top of the mahogany desk, laid out on the floor, stacked on shelves, stacked on the windowsill—the list goes on and on. The room is dark and smells stale, but in a very studious, library way. This guy clearly works hard at his job.
“Take a seat, Miss Hart. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
He barely looks up, too busy on a phone call to spare me much attention. I sit down in one of the two leather chairs behind his desk. Nothing about this place is turning out to be as I expected, the editor of the Gritty Voice included. He’s young, extremely good looking, with short blonde hair and an athletic build. He appears better suited to a soccer field than inside this office.
“Yes, that’s right…okay, thank you. Bye.” He hangs up the phone. “Fucking ad companies. What a nightmare.” Then, remembering I’m in the room, he looks up at me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s fine.”
He stands up to reach over his desk, holding out his hand. “I’m Jason—or Briggs. You can call me either one.”
“Nice to meet you,” I reply politely. He has a firm grip to his handshake.
Briggs sits back down. “It seems you come in high regard, Miss Hart. When I explained to Max that our internship positions were already filled, he demanded that I either fire someone or create a new position for you.”
My cheeks immediately turn hot. “Please tell me you chose the second option.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry; no one lost their job on your behalf.”
The tension leaves my chest. “I’m surprised he went to all that trouble. To be honest, Max was reluctant to let me work for him.”
“Really?” he asks, a note of surprise in his voice. “I thought for sure when he called, that he—never mind. First rule of journalism. Never—”
“Assume,” I finish for him with a smile. “Because it makes an ass of you and me.”
He laughs, revealing a set of charming dimples in the sides of his cheeks. “It surprised me too. Max never gets involved with hiring. Anyway, he said you must start right away, and that we all need to make you feel welcome.”
Hearing that makes my heart swell, especially because I know Max wasn’t too eager to give me this chance. At the same time, it makes me feel slightly embarrassed. I want people to think I deserve to be here. I try to remind myself people get jobs based on connections all the time, but it still doesn’t sit well in my stomach. I guess I’ll just have to work really hard to prove I deserve it.
Briggs picks up a piece of paper—my résumé, by the looks of it—and scans it from top to bottom. “It sounds like you’re the perfect candidate, Miss Hart. Other than professional experience, you’re qualifications are exactly what we look for. How did Max find you anyway?”
“Oh—we’re friends.” I swallow. I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to admit Max is also my temporary roommate. It’s already bad enough that everyone will know I’m friends with their boss’s boss.
“You should take that as a compliment then. The guy has never had many close friends, especially ones he creates positions for. Not as long as I’ve known him anyway.”
“People keep saying that about him.”
By the way everyone talks, it’s like they think Max is a three-horned monster or something. I get that he’s closed off, but I don’t believe he’s impenetrable. Seeing the side he showed me at the hospital the other day proves to me that there’s a lot more to him than meets the eye. If they could only see what I see, they’d know that they’re missing out on a beautiful human being.
Briggs leans back in his chair and says, “I’ve known Max since his business started out as his hobby. He’s a great boss, but he’s definitely not the approachable type. Some people find him intimidating.”
“I can see why they’d think so.”
“He’s a good guy though, and if he wants you here, then I know it’s a good decision.”
“I swore to him I’d prove myself to be a valuable asset. You won’t regret hiring me.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great. We’re kind of a close-knit family. For many of us, it’s a second home. Now, let’s go over your responsibilities.”
Briggs takes the next hour showing me where everything is, and what’s expected of me. Since I’m pretty much on the bottom of the totem pole, it’s not long before I figure out that I’m the official gopher of t
he office—a title that is perfectly fine by me. My tasks include filing paperwork, setting up appointments, directing incoming emails, and assisting the reporters with whatever they need.
It’s complete bliss.
I’m so happy to be working, Briggs could’ve told me to make lattés all day, and I would’ve been fine with that too. The only downside is that I have to work closely with Taylor, and her likability is getting on my damn nerves. I’m running out of things to hate about her, which is another thing I hate about her.
Stephanie calls to check in on me around midday to tell me she won’t make it in to see me. “Why not?” I ask, a little disappointed.
“Things came up…pressing situation.” Her voice is fuzzy, going in and out.
“Are you in your car?”
“Yeah…I’ll come in and see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I say, barely able to hear her at his point. “I’ll talk to you later.”
By the end of the day, I feel mentally exhausted, but in a really great way. For the first time in months, I haven’t had time to think about all the things that have gone wrong in my life. I’m too busy focusing on what’s ahead of me to look behind.
“Hey, Char. How was your first day?”
I look up to see Taylor standing on the other side of my desk. The way she shortened my name bugs me. It’s what I prefer, but she doesn’t know me well enough to use it. Grabbing my purse, I give her a tight-lipped smile. “Good, thanks.”
“We should celebrate. Briggs and some of the other staff members are headed out for a bite to eat. Wanna join us?”
“Maybe another time.”
“Okay. On Thursdays we go to the Tequila Room for half price margaritas and salsa dancing. You should come.”
“I’ll think about it, thanks.”
I slip past Taylor, trying to get to the elevator before she decides to walk out with me as well. Someone taps my shoulder as I hit the down button, and I wince, thinking it’s her behind me.
“Hart, how’d it go today?” The sound of Briggs’s voice relaxes me.
“Everyone was really nice. I like it here.” The elevator dings, and the two of us step inside.
“We kept you busy, that’s for sure.” He grins, showing his dimples again. “But you did great. I’m glad to have you here.”
“You have no idea how good it is to hear that.”
Pressing the lobby button, Briggs looks over his shoulder, eyeing me up and down—or did I just imagine that?
“You should come out with us on Thursday. We need to celebrate.”
“I was considering it.”
“Do you know salsa?”
“God, no,” I say, embarrassed. “I’d probably fall on my face.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll be there to catch you.” He turns around, giving me the smoldering look again. “See you tomorrow, Hart.”
“See you…tomorrow.”
It takes me a few dazed moments to remember to get out of the elevator after Briggs leaves. I’m still not entirely sure what happened back there.
Was my new boss flirting with me?
I think about it on the way home, wondering if I mistook friendliness for flirtation. This is the first time in my adult life I’ve ever been single. Maybe I’m not used to flirting? I snort at the thought. Even when Miles and I were together, guys still tried to hit on me. As long as they didn’t try anything more, I let it go at that. Sometimes I flirted back a little, all in the name of climbing the social ranks. It took a lot to become Charlotte Hart, president of Alpha Delta Pi, charming people over being one of the necessary qualities.
When I arrive at the house, the door is slightly ajar. I can hear yelling going on inside. I step inside, finding Max, Trevor, and Stephanie standing inside the living room. The three of them go quiet at my presence, all of them appearing tense.
An argument?
I carefully shut the door behind me. “Hi, guys.”
Max nods. Stephanie offers a weak smile. Trevor just crosses his arms, ignoring me.
Yep, definitely an argument.
And clearly one that doesn’t involve me.
I should give them some space, go straight up to my room, and mind my own business. But then I notice Max’s face. There’s a cut above his brow, the makings of a bruise right below it. The entire left side of his face is swollen and pink.
“What happened?” I ask, going straight to him. Minding my own business has never been a strength of mine. Besides, seeing him beat up and hurt reminds me of the night we met. It brings back some of the same fear too.
“Don’t worry about it, kid. Everything’s okay.” He eyes both Trevor and Stephanie, sending them a message.
It’s obvious everyone wants to keep me out of this. That stings, but I need to respect their boundaries. I’m the newbie here. “Look, at least let me help you get cleaned up. You’re bleeding.”
At first I think Max will refuse my offer, so it surprises me when he nods in agreement.
“Where’s your first aid kit?”
“Upstairs bathroom.”
We venture up there together. Behind us, Trevor lets out an exasperated breath, making me think he wasn’t finished with whatever he’d been saying. That could be why Max agreed to come with me, to get out of the hornet’s nest, so to speak.
He’s quiet the whole way up. Once inside the bathroom, he still doesn’t say a word. I search underneath the sink for the first aid kit, shuffling toiletries and cleaning products around. When I finally find it, I’m pleased to see it’s packed full of supplies.
“Can you, um, lower yourself?” I ask, taking in Max’s towering height.
He sits down on the edge of the tub, waiting for me to proceed.
I take out antiseptic and a Band-Aid, feeling nervous for some reason. Max is staring at the floor, resting his elbows on his knees, brows pinched together. I don’t press him for conversation, figuring it’s best just to get this over with.
After removing the antiseptic from the package, I reach for Max’s face. He catches me by my wrist. “I should probably do this,” he says.
“I won’t accidentally poke you in the eye.” I hope teasing him will ease some of the tension. “I can do it.”
“I didn’t think you couldn’t, it’s just,” he lets out a short breath, “Never mind, go ahead.”
Leaning down, I dab at the corner of his brow, wiping away the blood. He stiffens when I touch him. I try to be as gentle as possible, noticing how his shoulders and arms are strained. This must be bothering him more than he’s letting on.
“Oh, it can’t hurt that bad.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
I rip open a Band-Aid. “Certainly looks like I’m hurting you.”
The moment I stick the Band-Aid on him, he reaches for my waist. “That’s not the problem.”
“Then what—”
He pulls me forward, his lips brushing against mine. I’m too shocked to move or do anything. He’s kissing me. Actually kissing me. By the time that hits me, I’m too caught up by the sensations he’s making me feel to form a coherent thought.
His lips are warm and gentle, prying mine apart with his velvety tongue. I like the way he kisses, the way he makes me feel connected to him through every little movement. I feel his heart racing inside his chest. I can almost hear the blood pumping through his veins. My heart is racing just as fast, my blood pumping just as quickly.
I’m still in shock, but I don’t want to think about what it means. I just want him to keep going. Because this feeling is…this feeling is…everything.
Without breaking the kiss he lifts me up, tugging my legs over his, leaving them to hang on the other side of the tub. I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist, my skirt rising up as I do. A small part of me thinks to pull it back down, but Max stops me by scooting me toward him, leaving no space between us.
He’s hard beneath his jeans. Every inch of that hardness presses against my panties; a wave of tingles spasm
within my lower belly. “Oh, God,” I gasp out as Max’s lips move away from my lips, his tongue running down the side of my neck.
“You taste like heaven,” he whispers next to my ear. “Tell me to stop.”
I shake my head.
The last thing I want him to do is stop—is he crazy?
He brings his lips back to my mouth, and his tongue attacks mine, more frantic than before. I feel like I could lose it right here and now. I’m vaguely aware that this is happening in a bathroom—on the edge of a tub no less—but I don’t care. He could take me in here on the floor, and I would welcome him. I might even demand that he do it.
“Maximus Archer!” Trevor yells from the other side of the bathroom door. “You get your ass back here as soon as you’re patched up. This conversation is not over!”
Our lips break apart.
No.
It’s like the blaring alarm clock shattering the most beautiful of dreams.
Both of us are breathing heavily, staring into each other’s eyes. I think we’re both hoping we didn’t hear anything, or at least I know I am. I want to go back to sleep, back to my dream.
“Did you hear me?” Trevor shouts again, this time sounding closer than before.
Max groans. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” He stands, and I slide off of him.
I attempt to collect myself, pulling my skirt down and straightening my clothes. I look in the mirror, fixing my hair to do anything but look Max in the eye. The way he so easily maneuvered me is slightly embarrassing. My cheeks are red now because of it.
I’m wondering if what happened was an attempt for him to escape whatever he’s going through. But if it was, would I really care?
Max lightly touches my arm. “Charlotte, I—”
“Do not pretend you don’t hear me, Max!”
“Give me a fucking second, Trevor!”
Max turns to me again, but I still can’t manage to look at him. “Sorry about everything, Charlotte. It won’t happen again.”
With that said, he leaves. Almost as soon as he’s out the door, I hear him and Trevor arguing. Their voices are too low for me to hear what they’re saying.
Rebounding Page 12
