by J. P. Comeau
I snickered. “I’m unemployed. I’m free anytime.”
“Well, are you free this afternoon?”
I looked down at my robe as my unwashed hair sat on top of my head. “Maybe not today. What about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow morning would work. How does eight sound?”
I smiled. “Eight is perfect.”
I heard him typing away. “Wonderful. And, like I said, they’re very motivated to hire because they’ve got some big projects coming up and there’s no one to answer the phones or keep everyone on track. You highlighted those in your application as two big things you do well, so this should go very well for you.”
I was still in shock. “Thank you. I--I can’t thank you enough for this.”
“No, no. Thank you. I didn’t think I’d find anyone up to par to fill this position. Oh, just to ask so I don’t assume-- if they hire you, when can you start?”
I shrugged. “Whenever they need me.”
“So, if they offered you the job tomorrow and needed you to work tomorrow as well, you could do that?”
My heart slammed against my chest. Was that possible? Because it felt much too good to be true.
“Yes. I’d be more than up to that task,” I said.
“Perfect! I’m sending everything over to the employer now. You’ll get an email in your inbox from me with the address and the time of your interview. I wish you the best of luck!”
Then, the recruiter hung up on me, leaving me standing in my kitchen, dazed, confused, and excited beyond belief.
For once, there was a light at the end of that seemingly endless tunnel.
12
_____
ZANE
ONE DAY LATER
My fingers clicked away on my keyboard as I solidified my deal with Mrs. Daily. A grin spread across my face as I sent off my last email to her, signaling the end of our deal. The paperwork had been signed, Mr. Walsh was out of the picture, and I had struck the best deal on the face of this planet for a prime piece of property.
While still giving the client what they wanted.
Well, Mrs. Daily wasn’t technically my client. But, I thought of her as one. Once I got Mr. Walsh to step off to the side, it had been smooth-sailing. And I got to learn about why she was selling her business in the first place. Despite her age, she seemed very spry. However, her husband had fallen ill, and she could no longer keep the business running as usual. I felt for her story, and I certainly didn’t want to screw her over. If that was the last leg of the race she’d ever have with her husband still alive, I wanted to make sure the time they spent together was comfortable.
So, I offered her fifty grand over her asking price.
It might sound like a lot of money to most, but I’d easily make that money back plus some with the renovations and the flipping of that establishment. Vegas real estate--especially real estate so close to the Strip--was in high demand. The money Stonewater Realty brought in every month was seventy percent flat-out sales and thirty percent rental fees.
And we only had six rental properties.
Leaning back in my chair, I sighed with relief. Another job down, so now it was time to start on the next project. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, taking a couple of minutes to center myself before I sat back up again. I had some time to work on my passion project, so I switched over to my laptop. I opened it up and listened to the morning chime as I waited for the thing to load.
Time to branch out.
Vegas was becoming crowded with wanna-be hot-shots like Mr. Walsh, who wanted to come at us with personal vendettas in order to make a name for themselves. And while Brenden had no interest in branching our company out past Vegas, I knew that was simply foolish. Companies either had to evolve with the times, or they’d get drowned in the race. That was business. It was one of the first things I ever learned from my father.
Move or be moved.
His voice rang out in my head as I pulled up the prospective properties surrounding Vegas. The rental market was a strong one. A lucrative one. And while I enjoyed snatching up properties and reselling them to others, that got old after a while. The idea of managing multiple rentals and bringing in that monthly residual income really appealed to me. Mostly, because it was much more hands-off than what Brenden and I did now.
Which might free up some time for me down the road.
What the hell requires you to free up time?
I pushed the thought away from my mind as my fingers started flying across the keyboard. One day, I didn’t want to be a workaholic. One day, I actually wanted to look at my father and point out how we were different instead of the same. One day, I wanted to look at myself in the mirror and see a man who was happy with his life instead of the man I saw now.
But, a knock came at my door, ripping me from my trance.
“Come in, Brenden.”
The door whipped open. “How’d you know it was me?”
I looked up at him. “You’re the only one stupid enough to interrupt me in the middle of my workday.”
He grinned. “Just wanted to make sure you spotted the last-minute addition to your calendar.”
“Yes. I saw where you snuck an interview into my schedule without asking.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve been bitching up a storm because you don’t have a secretary yet. And now, you’re going to bitch at me for setting you up an interview with someone that’s got a pretty sweet ass?”
I blinked. “Seriously? Those were your qualifications?”
Brenden shrugged nonchalantly. “And I saw her resume. The headhunter I used really found a good one for us.”
“But, you also know what her ass looks like.”
“Hey, I could be hiring a guy. You never know.” He put both hands out and his shoulders up.
I raised an eyebrow. “You look at dude’s asses now?”
“What?”
I put up my hands with a smirk. “I mean, not that I’m judging, but--.”
Brenden waved his hand in the air. “Anyway. Can you just hire the girl and be done with it? We’re up to our ears in projects and really need the help.”
“I’ll hire her if she’s competent enough to take on the job.”
“She is. Trust me.” It felt like he was hiding something.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He sighed. “Seriously. I don’t want to listen to you moan and groan about it any longer. Hire her, get her working, and let’s get back on track. We’ve wasted enough damn time with this.”
I blinked. “It’s been five days.”
“And do you know how far behind that’s set us? Just do it, please?”
“I will. If she’s competent.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll get another interview on your calendar by the end of the week.”
Brenden slipped out of my office, and I winced. Was that what people really thought of me? Fucking hell, I was turning more into my father by the second. I shivered at the thought and drew in a deep breath. My eyes fell back to my laptop, but my heart was no longer in the project.
I closed the laptop and pulled up the calendar on my other computer.
“Damn it,” I murmured.
The interview was in ten minutes. Of course, it was in ten minutes. How in the world did time get away from me so quickly? I nibbled on my lower lip, feeling the chapped skin that caused me to reach into my desk drawer. I pulled out my chapstick and rushed it over my lips, hoping that might do the trick. I couldn't stand the sensation. Nor how it looked. And as I capped it off, I closed my eyes.
Trying to center myself for the damn thing.
My calendar dinged.
“What now?” I murmured.
I looked over at my computer screen and saw another addition to my schedule. Another interview, right after the one I was expecting. Then, another popped up. And another. Until my entire schedule up until fucking lunch was booked with nothing but interviews.
I picked up my office phone and
dialed Brenden’s number.
“Yeah?”
“You can stop now,” I told him.
“Hey, I’m just planning for contingencies.”
I rubbed my hand over my forehead. “If you put one more thing on my calendar, I’ll find a way to fire you myself.”
He snickered. “I own half the business. Good luck.”
Then, my calendar dinged one last time.
“Have fun! I expect you to have a secretary by the end of the day.”
“And I expect you to do work other than bossing me around.” I growled.
I slammed my phone down into its cradle before I heard a squeal at my door. My eyes whipped up, and I saw her standing there, a sparkling purse slipped up her shoulder. The dyed-blonde hair the woman sported on her head looked more like straw than anything else. Her breasts moved even though she didn’t, and the slim contour of her waist boasted of multiple visits to the plastic surgeon.
Not to mention the makeup she had caked on her face so badly it was running down her neck with her sweat.
I’m going to kill you, Brenden.
I held out my hand. “Please, have a seat.”
In classic Brenden fashion, the woman was definitely hot. But, she was also as smart as a tin can. She had no experience. She had no schooling. She had no transferable skills, nor could she keep her attention on me. Her phone kept vibrating in her purse because she didn’t care enough about the stupid interview to even turn the damn thing off.
“All right. That’ll be all. Thank you for coming in, and we’ll be in touch soon.”
I stood up and shook her hand, then watched her walk out the door. I made it a point to not look at her ass, either. Drawing in a deep breath, I watched shadows lining up outside my door. There were so many that I saw Brenden bringing out chairs into the hallway just so the women would have a place to sit.
Brenden grinned at me from beyond my office door before I strode for it, slamming it in his face.
I’m going to kill that man someday.
I looked at the clock on my wall, and it wasn’t even eight in the morning yet. I swore, if Brenden put as much effort into torturing me as he did his actual job, we’d be worlds further in our business than we were. Yet another reason why I wanted to get my own rental business up and going. Someday, I hoped to pull away from the place. Someday, I hoped to keep enough ownership of Stonewater Realty to bring in a monthly paycheck before moving on to do something else.
Something of my own doing.
Where I didn’t have a lazy brother as a partner.
Then, a knock came at my door. “Mr. Hearthstone? I’m here for an interview.”
I sighed. “Yes. Of course. Give me one second, and I’ll welcome you in.”
“Yes, sir.”
I girded myself before I slid a hand through my hair. I straightened my back and put on my best face before opening the door I was leaning against. The woman smiling back at me seemed much more personable than the blonde. So, I ushered her in with fervid anticipation.
“So, tell me. Why do you want to work as a secretary?”
She smiled. “I’ve always enjoyed helping people. I suppose this is another way I can do that.”
“It says on your resume you were a teacher for several years in…”
“New Mexico.”
I nodded. “Right. New Mexico. Why Vegas, then?”
Her face darkened. “Why is that relevant to the interview, Mr. Hearthstone?”
Finally, someone interesting. “Just curious, is all. You don’t have to answer if you don’t feel comfortable doing it.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you. I had a feeling you wouldn't be so cold-hearted.”
An odd statement, but I glossed over it. “It also says you enjoy volunteering at the local animal shelters.”
“I do, yes.”
I gave a polite smile. “Do you have any pets? Or any service animals?”
Her eyes narrowed. “He’s called you, hasn’t he?”
I blinked. “What?”
She stood from the chair. “He’s called you. He knows. Be honest with me. Did you hear from him?”
My eyes blinked rapidly. “From--from who?”
“I have to go.”
I cocked my head. “Ma’am’. Miss--.”
“I have to go!”
She rushed out of my office in a tizzy, clutching her purse. When Brenden peeked his head around the corner, he shot me a look.
“Seriously?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Can you make sure she gets to her car okay? And if she needs any help, call the police.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“Just do it, if you’re going to be so damn nosy all day. Least you can do is help.”
He sighed, but he did as I asked. One by one, the interviews rolled in. And none of the candidates were up to snuff. They did all have one thing in common, though.
They were very nice to look at.
One woman simply wanted to meet me, while another wanted to know if I could offer her a part-time job working fifteen hours a week. I almost laughed at her, had Brenden not been glaring at me from the doorway behind the poor soul. I wasted my entire morning with women Brenden would’ve hired. Some were easy on the eyes but didn’t know a lick about the business side of things. It pissed me off more than anything. But, I knew that if I entertained him long enough, he’d step aside and let me do it correctly.
Until finally, we came to the last interview of the day.
Brenden rubbed his hands together. “All right. Last one. You ready for it?”
“Which one are you hiring?”
He paused. “What?”
“You’ve been standing at my office door all morning listening to the interviews. I can only assume it’s because you’re listening to their interviews, so you know how to hire for your own secretary. Right?”
He shrugged. “I mean, two birds one stone?”
“I hate you.”
Brenden smirked. “You love me.”
“I’m going to leave you one day for my own business.”
He chuckled. “Finally. This place might be able to run the way it needs to, then.”
I rolled my eyes as Brenden laughed. I didn’t need his bullshit. What I needed was for the hellish day to be over. My mood had tanked four interviews before. I no longer had the patience to tolerate another faked-titted, dyed-haired, unqualified candidate with a nice ass.
I just wanted someone capable.
Was that so much to ask?
“Come on, have a bit of fun with this,” Brenden said.
I shook my head. “That’s your problem, man. You’re always having fun. You’re never business-oriented.”
“Why be business-oriented when I have a workaholic partner? I mean, I can always count on you to pick up the slack.”
And there it was -- the true divide that separated Brenden and myself. While I loved my brother, and he was the best friend I’d ever known, I also had learned from him that I’d never get into business with anyone ever again. If I couldn't run it on my own, it wasn’t worth trying.
A knock at my door pulled me from my trance.
“Come in,” I said.
Brenden patted my shoulder. “Good luck. Can’t wait to see who you pick.”
“I’d say the same about you, but I really don’t care.”
“Sure, you don’t. Come on in!”
My office door opened, and I stood to my feet. I buttoned my suit coat and drew in a deep breath, preparing myself for this last interview. If I was lucky at all, it’d be over quickly. In and out, so I could lock my damn office door and let no one in for the rest of the week.
“Before you say anything, Mr. Hearthstone, I’m so sorry I’m late. I know the interview was scheduled for eight this morning, but I had a personal emergency. They don’t ever happen, and I swear it won’t happen again. Thank you so much for still taking my interview.”
Her voice stopped me in my track
s. Even Brenden stood there, immobile, as she slipped beyond my office door. With her beautiful locks of hair spiraling in soft curls down beyond her shoulders, she looked positively radiant. A bright red color donned her lips, bringing out the color of her eyes. Her clothes were professional. Sensible. Yet, somehow, they made her even more beautiful than the number she wore at the club that night.
“Karina,” I said.
Her eyes whipped over to me. “Zane?”
Brenden snickered. “Holy. Shit.”
“You’re Mr. Hearthstone.” Karina whispered.
I nodded. “Zane Hearthstone, yes.”
Her eyes moved to Brenden, then back to me. Over and over, until it finally sunk in. And when she sighed, it almost sounded defeated.
“Brenden, I need to conduct my last interview,” I said.
“I bet you do.” Brenden smirked.
I glared at him. “Out. Now.”
He held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry. Okay. I’m going.”
And as my brother made his way out of my office, I stood there. Dumbfounded. Staring at the one girl, I never thought I’d see again after the awkward weekend we spent running into one another.
“Your apology is accepted,” I told her, smiling.
But all she did was stare at me.
She stood there, straight-faced with her resume clutched in her hand.
13
_____
KARINA
How did I miss this? How in the world did I not know this? So many things crashed through my mind as Brenden slipped by me, brushing his shoulder against my own. How had I not caught the man’s last name? How had I glossed over asking him about the name of his company? I felt like an idiot. And the only saving grace I had was that Zane looked just as shocked and idiotic as I felt.
He put out his hand. “Please. Take a seat.”
The office door closed behind me, and I jumped. Then I whipped around, staring at the thick wooden door before I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding. I slowly turned to face Zane, and I watched him sit down in his own chair, his eyes imploring me to move closer to him.
You need this job, Karina. Come on.
