Have Gown, Will Wed

by Killian McRae

  She both hated and loved when Kamakshi did that.

  She looked up from Strudel and opened her arms. “I guess, then, the only thing left to say is I can’t wait to meet him, and congratulations!”

  The Hunt

  “Mr. Hommes, your two forty-five is here.”

  Xavier looked up from his laptop to his assistant, Cory, hanging on the edge of the doorway.

  “Already that late?”

  Jet lag played havoc with the basic feeling of day and night. He was starting to wonder if he just shouldn’t open up a branch in Bangalore or Shanghai to make the recruiting from Asia less taxing on his body. He clicked out of the full-screen view of the document he’d been editing and double checked the clock on his task bar, confirming that a large part of the day had gotten away from him.

  “Yes, sir. Shall I send them in, or do you need a few minutes?”

  “No, I’m good.” His fingers went to work massaging his eyes, trying to push some blood into his muscles and give him a more alert appearance. “Show them in, please.”

  The fact that BetaHouse had a high-ranking position to fill came as no surprise. When his assistant had informed him that they were requesting a consult, Xavier almost half-expected it. A few days ago, the news burned through Silicon Valley circles about the big multi-million dollar contract it’d landed. The startup had new revenue streams coming out its wazoo, bringing with it an influx of cash and newly-created positions. If it wasn’t bought outright, that was. Xavier had seen the same play with different actors on more than one occasion.

  What he didn’t expect was that BetaHouse’s CEO would be arriving for the consult personally. The position she had to fill must be top tier. Three months prior, Xavier’s firm had been hired to headhunt Rosalind Betters’s personal assistant, and even then she’d been a tough fish for his top officer to grab on to. Still, Jack Colbon gladly dragged his ass up and down the west coast for the perfect candidate on suspicion that BetaHouse was apt to go supernova. Xavier Hommes knew that to get a bumper crop, you had to sow the best seeds early in the season. Now BetaHouse was booming, and thanks to Jack’s stellar performance, Hommes HQ—“Headhunters of Quality,” he joked that the name stood for—would be reaping green.

  His half-dizzy head pushed through the possibilities: CFO? CTO? An HR director? That Miss Betters was reportedly bringing Carmen Flor with her added another question to the queue. Perhaps Carmen had screwed up terribly, and Betters wanted to ridicule both the PA and him in parallel, or she would be looking for a right-hand man to help her with the expansion, in which case Carmen would be there to take notes in hopes of expediting the process.

  Cory returned a moment later with Carmen in tow. The brown-haired, tan-skinned woman extended him both a hand and a smile, though the gesture looked only skin deep. She walked a little bit too fast, and her eyes were a little too wide, to suggest her presence was totally devoid of apprehension.

  “Mr. Hommes, good to see you again.”

  “Ms. Flor, same. How are you?”

  “Settling in quite nicely, and arrived on the job in the nick of time,” the Latina noted. “I guess you heard our news?”

  Xavier nodded. “How could I not? Ms. Betters’s name has been all abuzz in the tech circles the last few days. Speaking of which, I thought she was here as well?”

  Carmen motioned toward the door with a lift of her chin. “Phone call. Japan. She’ll be in in just a moment.”

  As though to support the claim, he heard a woman’s voice, demanding yet professional, just far enough down the hall to render her words indistinguishable but her tone unmistakable.

  “Of course.” He nodded a dismissal to Cory before motioning to the black Aeron twin chairs that sat in front of his glass-and-chrome desk. Beyond, the San Francisco financial district gleamed in the angled sunlight of the late California afternoon, as demonstrated in the view from his fortieth floor office. “Won’t you sit?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He rounded his desk before settling in with a pen at the ready. “Must be exciting over at BetaHouse these days.”

  “That deal was a blessing and a curse. I don’t think Rosalind’s had two minutes in the past three days where she’s not either on the phone, in a meeting, or about to fall down.”

  So then, perhaps it was the second scenario that would play out. However, that didn’t explain what had Carmen so on edge. She might not notice how clearly she was telecasting her unease, but if she gripped the arm of that chair any tighter, several states would consider her in a common law marriage with it.

  “I can imagine,” is all he said, giving her a comforting smile. “Is she holding up okay with that?”

  Carmen shrugged. “Well, you know Rosalind.”

  “Actually, I’ve never had the pleasure.”

  Which was an unfortunate consequence of the needs of another client. When looking for Betters’s assistant, Xavier had been on a recruiting trip in Beijing. He’d heard all about her, of course, and spoken to her briefly on the phone to give his apologies for having to hand off the assignment to one of his staff, but he’d never actually set eyes on the infamous bombshell.

  “I hear she’s a force of nature.”

  “Like a hurricane in the middle of an earthquake.” Carmen looked at her watch. “And if I don’t get her in and out of here soon, she’s going to miss her next meeting back at the office. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, Mr. Hommes.”

  He didn’t have time to rise or speak, though he did the former only after Carmen had shot up and out. A moment later, he heard the droning voice in the distance fall silent. Then, the cadence of what he always jokingly referred to as “power pumps,” pounded up the black tile of the hall. The door opened fully, and in walked Carmen, and following her, a woman he was certain had wandered in accidently from the modeling agency offices down the hall.

  Even in the normalizing attire, Rosalind Betters had managed to pull off a unique look. Rather than a standard jacket, skirt, and lavishly expensive blouse, which seemed to be issued out to Biz School grads along with their diploma and briefcase, she looked as though she’d just walked off the set of a 1940’s noire drama. White slacks and a cotton shirt complimented a matching duster that gave her a style of perfectly melded modern sophistication with Gibson Girl grace. Her dark blonde hair sat in a loose bun atop her head. Her ivory skin surprised him, being a much healthier hue than what one expected from a successful CEO of a tech-driven company who likely spent more hours a day in the sunless shelter of a boardroom than the great outdoors in a month. The paleness of her ensemble suited her and almost made her look approachable, vulnerable. Likely a fallacy, Xavier thought, for fools were few among the lot who had achieved so much with so little time.

  Rosalind had been holding out her hand without reciprocity for the better part of ten seconds when Xavier realized that her lips were moving for more than just his entertainment.

  Blinking, he pushed himself back into the here and now. “Sorry, what?”

  Looking momentarily at Carmen, who in turn passed what could only be described as a reassuring nod, Rosalind again turned to him and said, “It’s nice to meet you in person, Mr. Hommes. I’m Rosalind Betters.”

  This time Xavier reached out in kind, wrapping his fingers around the heel of her hand. “Likewise, Ms. Betters. Please, sit.”

  Rosalind settled herself, Carmen following suit. Then—without pretense, precaution, or invitation—she launched into her agenda. “Mr. Hommes, when I contacted your agency to find me an assistant a few months ago, you delivered. Carmen has become an indispensable member of my team. I’ve grown addicted to her.”

  Carmen’s cheeks blushed as she fished out an iPad and stylus from her side bag.

  So, it wasn’t a case of Carmen’s performance being subpar then. Images of dancing dollar bills began to appear in Xavier’s mind when he imagined all
the new positions BetaHouse would need filled in the coming months. “I’m delighted to hear that, Ms. Betters. We were very particular about finding you a perfect fit. I’ve trained my team very specifically on analyzing a client completely to best understand not only their needs, but their personalities. While I do apologize for being unavailable to attend to that search myself, I’m delighted to hear that Jack Colbon’s selection of Carmen was spot on. I admit, however, when I heard you were both coming in today, I feared that, perhaps…”

  “Oh, no, not at all.” Rosalind’s hand landed on Carmen’s, as though reassuring the PA that the thought had never crossed her mind. “It’s just like you say, she’s a perfect fit to me. And that’s why I’m coming to you today, because I have a very… critical position that I need you to fill.”

  Xavier didn’t miss how Carmen shifted in her seat. He motioned continuance with his hand. “Of course, just let me know how I may be of assistance.”

  Again, Carmen’s hand reached into her bag, this time pulling out a manila folder, which she passed to Rosalind. Rosalind opened it, removed a piece of fine linen paper, handed it to Xavier, then proceeded to jump to her feet and pace a path back and forth in front of his desk. Memories of lecture halls and college professors teased his recollections.

  “My expectations and requirements for this position are very high, but each one, very critical,” she began. “This individual will be working closely with me, on an intensely intimate level, for—well, hopefully—a very long time.”

  But she already had a PA. Did she need a second? It wasn’t unheard of for high-profile CEO’s to have a retinue of support staff reporting directly to them, but Xavier wondered if BetaHouse had truly gotten that big, that fast.

  The list, handwritten, indeed included very specific requests.

  “Fluency in at least one foreign language?” he asked as he read. Such a skill could be critical if she was looking to expand into overseas markets. “Any particular language or languages?”

  She paused, her head tilting as though confused. “I hadn’t thought about that. Something useful, I suppose. I mean, I don’t think fluency in Latin or Creole will quite cut it, but I’ve always believed mastery of a second tongue demonstrates a certain level of intellectual diversification and engagement that will be quite important to me.”

  Fair enough. He made a few notes before moving on to the second item. “Degree from a prestigious university, advance preferred. Any particular field of study that is more useful to you? Business, engineering, marketing?”

  Again, a chin bob, as though he was suggesting to her possible wines. “Yes, any of those would work.”

  The remaining requirements had been written out in the style of a sixth grade theme statement, and sent his own head on a sideways conk of confusion. “‘The most desirable candidate will have a proven track record of success in his field, be well read, and cultured. Have a willingness to travel, and is punctual. Has a sense of humor and a nose for detail and discretion. No applicants with children from previous relationships need apply.’”

  Xavier lowered the paper along with his excitement.

  “Ms. Betters, the other qualifications you’ve listed are what I would expect to see for a senior position of a globally-minded company. Unfortunately, under California employment law, you cannot take an individual’s household situation or marital history under consideration when evaluating their qualifications. At least…” He leaned forward over his desk, lowering his voice. “…not in writing.”

  A grin the size of the San Andreas Fault broke across the blonde’s face. She halted her pacing, planted her hands on the edge of his desk, and matched his tone and composure. “This is an exception, Mr. Hommes, I assure you. While we’re on the subject, and though this might just be tripping down the path of logic, it should also be obvious that only male candidates need be recruited.”

  To say her voice was filled with a suggestive tone would be overstating the truth. What it was, more precisely, was some level of mischievousness. As Xavier stood slowly, feeling like he was about to take all his marbles home when he realized the ground was too muddy for play, he exhaled before pulling a full drought of air infused with Rosalind Betters’s intoxicating fragrance. On his feet, he had a good four inches of height over her. As though they both realized how his stature dominated hers, she pulled back her hands and visibly faltered, even if just for a moment. Then, almost as if she noticed her own actions, Rosalind straightened her spine and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Is there an issue with my expectations, Mr. Hommes?”

  Xavier knew well enough someone with the tenacity to build the sort of empire she had in so little time wouldn’t be intimidated by him, but something about him set her off kilter. Part of him wanted to let go of his well-disciplined restraint and professionalism and tell her that sexism wasn’t made proper by its practitioner being female. Of all the people he’d ever thought he’d have to school on the importance of gender-neutrality in employee recruitment, the high-flying woman CEO in an industry dominated by men wouldn’t have been one.

  “Ms. Betters, I’m afraid I can’t assist you with what amounts to an illegal recruitment,” he managed to proclaim in an indifferent tone. “The law is very clear on this sort of thing. And if you don’t mind my adding, I’m a little surprised a woman in your field, whom I’m sure has encountered her share of sexist asses all her life who thought her reproductive organs meant she was inferior, would have such an idea.”

  “Oh, I’ve had my dealings with those types, I assure you. But I’m afraid you quite misunderstand me.” She back stepped to her chair and sat, crossing one delightfully long leg over the other. “I’m not looking for an employee.”

  His mind reached for another possibility. “Even for interns, this isn’t—”

  Her gray eyes narrowed. “Not an intern, either. What I’m after is—”

  “A husband!” The words exploded from Carmen’s lips along with a sound that was somewhere between a squeal and a sigh. “She wants you to recruit her a husband.”

  Xavier’s eyes dashed from Rosalind, to Carmen, and back to Rosalind again.

  “You must be kidding.” He wasn’t sure if he should laugh. He was sure he wanted to.

  “Not in the slightest.” Nonplussed, Rosalind pulled another sheet of paper out from her folder and passed it across the desk. This one was printed in ten-point Arial on ivory linen paper. “As you can see, I have quite an expectant timeline for this project. It’s already April, which doesn’t leave much time to plan for a June wedding. Given that, Carmen will be meeting with several wedding planners next week, so we can expedite the process.”

  An expectant time line indeed. “What, no dress?”

  Her features shifted for a moment to something approaching annoyance. “Actually, yes, I already have a dress. So, yes, that issue is already settled.”

  Xavier’s body forfeited; he surrendered to his chair, pushed down by mere shock. “I’m… I’ms…” When he caught Rosalind looking at him askance, he righted himself, sitting up straight. “What makes you think I’m the right person to see out this assignment? I don’t have any credentials or experience arranging anything like this.”

  “You found me Carmen.” Rosalind motioned to the PA behind her without turning. Had she given a glance, Rosalind would have witnessed a woman for whom not breaking into a round of hysterical giggles was becoming more and more difficult. “Anyone who can find me a PA so perfectly matched can help me with this. I consider myself a professional with the ability to diversify my approach, but you were able to find someone who grooves with me no matter the direction I turn.”

  “Nonetheless, I’m not a matchmaker,” he attempted to argue.

  Again, she leaned into his desk, bringing with her proximity a fresh wave of baby powder scent mixed with roses. “But you are.” She twirled around as though the very act closed
off that statement to argument and took a seat next to Carmen. “I admit, when the thought first crossed my mind about… well, let’s just say it, an arranged marriage, I dismissed it, too. But then I got to thinking. Finding a spouse isn’t so different from finding a personal assistant or filling any other high-interaction position. It isn’t as much about the skill set…” Her head dashed to the right. “And that’s not at all to say that you don’t have some mad skills, Carmen, as it is about finding a personality match. When I came to your firm a few months ago, I was really impressed with how much care your associate took. Jack Colbon really got a handle on not only what my needs as a professional were, but who I was as a person, in order to find me the perfect match.”

  The method, which Xavier called “human sourcing”—as opposed to “human resourcing”—made Hommes HQ the in-demand service for executive needs and recruiting. Still, to reduce its brilliance down to a wayward version of The Dating Game for executives…

  “I went back to Jack with this to see if he would help me,” Betters continued. “He said he thought, as the person who first mastered and then taught him the techniques that make you all so successful, you would be much better for this particular and very important, and highly confidential, assignment. I believe he was right about that.”

  More like Jack had found a way to pass the buck without pissing off or offending a potentially highly lucrative client, Xavier thought to himself. “That’s very kind of you, but still, I couldn’t possibly…”

  Rosalind stood. The woman clearly did not like to remain still. She cocked her hip and rested a crooked hand on her waist. Gone was the lighthearted, almost sympathy-inducing batting eyes. Now, steel-featured and solemn, she declared, “One year of exclusivity.”

  He looked back to her wish list. “Well, that is considerably longer than most high profile marriages are able to keep it up, but I don’t see that qualification on your list.”

  “I mean for BetaHouse,” she retorted through clenched teeth. “Take on this assignment for me, and I’ll give Hommes HQ one year as my exclusive go-to service for all my high level staff. You heard about the new contract we closed on last week, I trust?”