by Mackenzy Fox
I stare as they shake hands and she looks up at him like he’s Adonis of the Greeks.
“Y-yes,” she stammers. “I’m M-Morgan’s P.A.”
I stare at her wordlessly. She’s never stammered or introduced herself as my anything in her entire life, much less my P.A. The world’s gone mad.
I would also like to remind Jolie she was literally crying in the toilets just last Friday due to her fuck wit boyfriend but you wouldn’t know it now. She bats her eyelashes at him and I refrain from throwing something at her head to remind her to get a grip.
“Pleasure to meet you and thank you for the schedule. I’m Jaxon, the new guy.” He gives her a wink and now I want to chuck something at his head too.
“H-Hi, th-thanks… I mean… it’s no trouble, if you need anything banging out in a hurry, just let me know… wait, that sounded wrong, not banging… um… I meant like knocking out… getting it done, you know like printing, emailing, faxing… that kind of thing.” She trails off as I look at her like she’s lost her mind. I want to face-palm myself and her at the same time.
Could this get any worse?
“Sorry, Jaxon, clearly Jolie’s had too much coffee this morning,” I say through gritted teeth.
He ignores me and smiles down at Jolie like she’s the most important woman on the planet, he never looked at me when we met like he looks at other girls, that kind of irks me. Like I know we hate each other and all, but still.
“Not at all, in fact, I’d like to come and check out the coffee run tomorrow, I guess you’re the eyes and ears of this place and know everything that goes on, that should come in very handy.”
“If these walls could talk.” Jolie nods as I stare at her with wide eyes.
Great, so now all it takes is one handshake, a cheeky wink, and a coffee run from hell and she’s going to spill all of our secrets in one foul swoop. I need to shake some sense into her, she’ll be singing like a canary before the day is out.
I feel like banging my head on the desk repeatedly but I fear that won’t help.
I clear my throat. “When the two of you have finished, I’d like to point out that anything you need to know, Jaxon, you can just come outright and ask it, to me… the CEO.”
Okay, I know I sound snotty and childish but he acts as if I’m not even here. This is my domain, my office, my workplace, and he can’t come in here and try to take over that as well. If he doesn’t like it, he can go jump out the window.
He gives Jolie a grin and turns his gaze to me where he loses the smile real fast.
“As you wish, Miss James.” His lips twitch as I glare at him.
Jolie’s pager sounds and she jumps in the air in fright, forgetting where she is. “Got to go,” she says, giving Jaxon a big smile as she gets out of the chair. “Coffee run is at seven-forty-five tomorrow, see you there.”
“I look forward to it,” he replies as she sashays out of the office. Honestly, she’s lost her mind. I’ve never seen her sashay anywhere, especially back to her desk. And she’s always moaning and groaning about the coffee run, now it’s suddenly the highlight of her day.
“You have some lovely staff here, Morgan.” He turns back to me and tilts his head to one side. He’s so damn delicious and he knows it. “Really friendly bunch.”
“Thank you, I have impeccable taste in all things, though it seems you make friends easily, especially of the female variety.”
He shrugs. “Just getting to know the crew.”
Just getting to know the crew? I think he likes the attention more like .
“Yes, well, you might do well to not distract all of them in future,” I say, realizing now I’ve dropped myself in it by admitting he’s a distraction.
He stares at me wordlessly, forcing me to continue.
“Being the new guy and all,” I add.
“It’s impolite not to introduce myself since I am, after all, going to be spending a lot of time around you.” His insinuation just grates on my every last nerve and boy does he know it. “And it’s good to put names to faces, makes my job all that much easier.”
He’s unbelievable.
“Yes, well, girls are obviously fickle, plus… they don’t get out much,” I whisper that last part for his benefit as I smirk into my cup. “They’ll ruin you before Valentine’s Day.”
He purses his lips. “Anything else you’d like to discuss before your meeting?”
“Yes,” I snap. “Why do you have to be here all day? Can’t you come back at the end of the day and escort me to my car? It’s at least twenty yards from the front door of the building, just in case someone attempts to kidnap me.”
He raises a brow. “That’s not even remotely funny.”
“It is if you’re me.”
“For your information, I’m having an induction today, and tomorrow I’ll be assessing what plans are in place for emergencies and evacuation procedures, so maybe your wish will be granted after all, if you’re a good girl.” His gaze never leaves mine and his eyes dance with mischief. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he may be willing to dine out on this forever.
I sit up straighter. “Best news I’ve heard all day.”
His jaw twitches. “I meant to ask, how is Brandon these days?”
Brandon?
Oh. My. God.
The sound of his name makes my blood run cold. Immediately, I can feel the pumping of blood in my ears and my heart racing, my lips part but no sound comes out. I’m totally caught off guard.
Brandon was my high school boyfriend; we went to prom together which ended up being the worst night of my life. A night I wish I could erase from my memory forever. I feel instantly nauseous.
I look down at my laptop because I can’t meet his eye. “I don’t know, we broke up right after prom.”
He watches me curiously. “I thought the two of you would have ridden off on a float together into the sunset and made beautiful, perfect babies.”
He makes it sound like a fairy tale rather than the nightmare that it really was.
Brandon Thomas was a star quarterback and a big shot—good looking, rich, and popular. He’s still in New York, he’s made a name for himself in real estate broking, he’s Mr. Big Time now.
My hands shake and I occupy myself by pretending to get to work so he doesn’t see how jittery I am. I actually feel all the blood drain from my face as I think about him.
“No, nothing like that,” I manage. “He was more like a big mistake.”
When he says nothing else, I glance up at him.
Something flashes across his eyes but he blinks it away quickly. It’s impossible, of course, that he would care anyway because Jaxon Westbrook cares about nothing but himself and reliving the good old days that he claims to have put behind him, that much is certain as he can’t seem to let any of it drop.
“Are you alright?” he asks as I begin to pretend to type an email.
“Of course I’m alright,” I snap. I pray he doesn’t ask me any more questions about him or I may actually lose it. “I’ve got work to do, so if you don’t mind…”
His eyes narrow as I go back to my screen. I need to talk to my father. He has to go. I can’t take any more of his judgey eyes and everyone thinking he’s better than sliced bread.
“See you at lunch.” He turns to leave and I hear the door close gently behind him.
As soon as he’s gone, I let out a sigh, I’m a prisoner in my office now as well, as if being followed around my whole life hasn’t been enough of a burden, now I’ve got a full-time security A-hole. I refrain from having a meltdown and, instead, I pick up the phone calmly and dial my father’s office. Surely, if I have to have full-time security, it can be someone else, anyone else. I don’t need a goddamned babysitter and I don’t need Jaxon Westbrook all over everything.
Patti picks up after the third ring. “Mr. James’ office.”
“Hi, Patti, it’s Morgan. I need to speak to my father please, it’s urgent.”
Look
s like someone’s about to get fired.
7
Jaxon
The sneaky little bitch.
I get off the phone from John James and pinch the bridge of my nose, not because I got fired… as if, hell will freeze over before that happens. Morgan, being the stuck-up snob she is, can’t handle any simple question much less criticism of any kind. She’s impossible.
Morgan’s not happy. Well, boo fuckin’ hoo. Morgan doesn’t think it’s fair. Well, somebody should send her a memo that life isn’t fair. Sometimes you get told no, though in her world, that’s a dirty word, one she clearly hasn’t heard too often.
I’ve honestly never had this kind of reaction from someone whose life I’m trying to protect.
I told John that she isn’t making my life easy, reiterating how difficult she is making things and, of course, she’s used to Mac who’s impersonal and probably runs errands for her like some little junkyard dog, well, that ain’t me. It’s never gonna be me.
I know in her world she likes control—she’s a CEO and, technically, I work for her, but in my world, I’m in control. And I’m not exactly thrilled that she’s tried to throw me under the bus on day one on the job. I’m seeing red and I don’t want John to think hiring me was a mistake.
The conversation went something like this:
“Things are bound to feel awkward for her,” I said when John told me it will take some adjusting, as if I don’t already know she’s used to getting her own way and is as stubborn as a mule. “Mac did things differently but I don’t think we can be too careful, John, not where she’s concerned. I don’t cut corners and I don’t aim to please, I aim to serve and protect.”
“This is why I hired you,” he stated firmly. “She’ll make you want to scream because she can’t control you, that will be strange for her as she calls the shots in all areas of her life, but I know you can handle it, it should be a walk in the park compared to what you’ve had to do, I’m just asking that you cut her some slack.”
I don’t know. While I’m not in the Middle East on a secret mission, this does feel a lot like a jungle where I’m completely out of my depth. Cut her some slack? Why would I do that?
Then, he finished up by telling me to call him if she gives me any more trouble. Well, that’s inevitable, but I won’t be running to him every time she has PMS and wants to take it out on me.
Now, she’s also making me look incompetent.
Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck if she’s pissed off or not, but she’s drawn a line in the sand and there’s no going back from here.
I’ve worked security for some pretty major people after I got out of the military; politicians, celebrities, rich people, so handling this bit of fluff isn’t going to be a problem. It’s whether I can put up with the constant nagging before I want to kill myself or somebody else, that’s the real question.
I spend the rest of the day going over the schedule in the adjoining office next to Morgan’s, coordinating the rest of the measures I need to take for upcoming events and working with the current security team for what needs to happen. I liaise with Leon over the phone; John’s personal head of security who is as badass as they come. I’ll have two other men with me at large events and gatherings. During the day, it’s just me and I’ll be inducting Ryan, then, on weekends, there will be two of us in shifts.
I called a favor on my best friend, Chase, and I’ve roped him in for duty this weekend. He owes me one and I need all the backup I can get. He’s the manager for my two clubs but he delegates so well, no one will miss him for a night or two. I can only hope Morgan has some cute and un-annoying friends or I may not get a second shift out of him. He’s a tough son of a gun and with his Hawaiian and Japanese heritage, he’s more of a man about town than I am, which reminds me, it’s been almost five days since I had sex and this just won’t do. Now I’m babysitting a five-year-old with a penchant for temper tantrums. I can only hope I can hook up on my day off and let off some steam, maybe then I won’t feel so wired. I need sex and I’m not afraid to admit it—more people should, they’d be a whole lot less frustrated.
I glance through the clear glass into Morgan’s office, she’s typing furiously on her keyboard. I haven’t said anything about my phone call with Daddy dearest and I won’t mention it yet, that is until I have to or she pushes me too far. Whichever happens first.
I watch her pick up the phone, tapping her pen on the pad of paper in front of her as she occasionally brings it to her lips and chews on the end.
She’s a she-devil. I’m just coming to realize this information. She may be beautiful, rich, and smart but she’s really a Medusa in disguise. I pity the poor dude she ends up with, speaking of which, I haven’t learned anything about her private life, but her father tells me she doesn’t have a steady boyfriend which she already admitted last night. I know one-night stand kind of girls when I see them and she’s not it, so I ponder what little Miss Morgan James does for kicks if she’s not doing random hook-ups.
I make sure to grill Jolie the next morning as I make the coffee run with her, I need to check how good the security really is in this building and it’s also a good opportunity to charm the pants off her P.A. who knows all the dirt, or if she’s any good of a P.A., she should know all the dirt.
I don’t have trouble extracting information, especially from women; it’s easier than sliding a hot knife through butter and Jolie lets it all loose after I turn on the Mister Nice Guy charms the next day.
All it takes is a lopsided smile and the offer to carry the coffee tray. Sure, it’s an asshole move, but however I can get intel in the least amount of time with the least amount of effort is all that matters.
She babbles all the way up the street and into the elevator, I think she’s nervous being around me because I’ve never heard a girl talk so much, even if most of what she’s spouting is useless to me. When we’re back at Jolie’s desk with Morgan’s coffee just how she likes it, we go over this week’s schedule more in-depth. Morgan has a lot of business meetings. I’m surprised to see she actually does seem to work, and here I was thinking she was just pretending to be a graphic designer who dallied around with the press releases looking busy.
We go over the benefit she has coming up next month, it’s for some charity she runs called Hope Floats. I ask Jolie what that’s all about and she tells me it’s a refuge Morgan helped set up for women that have been the sufferers of domestic abuse and sexual violence.
I’m surprised to learn she has more than one charity she donates a lot of time and money to. It’s always a shock to see rich people doing good with their money, not that they can’t afford it but most rarely ever do, not without publicity.
We go over the seating list and guests invited. There are several more functions most weekends that Morgan is scheduled to attend, it is occurring to me as the day progresses that Morgan James may be a workaholic. I see names typed out on one of the pages floating around on the desk and pick it up; it’s for some young designer of the year awards night uptown in a couple of weeks’ time. My eyes scan some names slashed off in red. I cannot believe it when I see Brandon Thomas’s name scrubbed out with an angry cross.
I play dumb to Jolie.
“Why’s Brandon Thomas been given the kiss of death?” I ask innocently. I know he’s a real estate broker now and probably still an asshole.
“Oh. He’s someone Morgan used to know. She doesn’t go to any events where he’s going to be so I have to be careful when RSVP’ing to stuff in advance.”
I glance back down at the list, then look back up. “Why not?”
She shrugs. “I have no idea, but he seems very nice. I’ve met him a couple of times, think he might be an ex-boyfriend but I’m not really sure. She doesn’t say anything about him.”
Okay, Brandon Thomas is a problem. I cast my mind back to yesterday when I brought him up and she paled under the mere mention of his name. Yeah, there’s some history there that is causing her some angst, eno
ugh to not want to run into him, like ever.
I was so jealous of them in high school. The beauty queen and the quarterback, such a cliché but that was my life.
When Morgan ditched our friendship for the plastic group and started dating Brandon, it was the first time I ever let anybody truly hurt me. It hurt worse than the name-calling and beatings I got because we had some good conversations going. When we were alone, she was sweet, kind, and funny, but the minute she got in with Carly and her group of poison ivy’s, she changed.
I shake the memory off. No good can come from reminiscing down memory lane where that’s concerned, I know where that road leads and it’s nowhere good.
I don’t know why I can’t let it go and I also don’t know why I took this fucking job.
Three million dollars. I remind myself. Yeah, I need to keep telling myself that like a daily mantra.
My phone rings and Chase’s name dances across the screen. I excuse myself from Jolie’s desk to mine, telling her I have to take the call.
“Finally, you call me back!” I say, shutting the door behind me, I sit back in the comfiest office chair I’ve ever sat in; it’s as big as a Buick.
“Saturday night security at your service,” he replies, trying to sound serious. “Though I’m not sure if these girls are ready for After Dark, you sure you thought this through, dude?”
That’s my club in SoHo and I’ve just suggested it to Jolie since she’s organizing the girl’s night out this weekend. It’s a sexy place, a young person’s haunt; I have girls and guys dancing in cages and one of the best dance floors and DJ’s in the city. None of them will know it’s my place, of course, but it makes life easier when I have my own security in my own club.
“Morgan James will never be ready for After Dark,” I mutter. “Unless she’s cooking up something to poison me with in her magic cauldron, then she’ll fit right in.”
“Woah, wait, is that the sound of Mr. Big Shot meeting his match?” he laughs.
“Hardly,” I scoff. “She’s a brat, just got off the phone to John, she wants me gone, tried to fire me this morning, can you believe this shit?”
