Guarded King (Empty Kingdom #3)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

CHLOE

S hading my eyes with one hand, I tilt my head back to take in the steel-and-glass behemoth towering above me. King Plaza. Headquarters of the King Group and the site of my interview this morning. It’s intimidating, to say the least.

When the recruitment agency called about an opening that needed to be filled quickly, I jumped at the chance. I needed to. It’s been two weeks since Geoff ‘let me go,’ and I’ve been scouring job pages and websites religiously.

For fourteen straight mornings, I’ve woken up with panic pinching my chest. It’s an unwelcome reminder of the months following Mom’s sudden departure from our lives when I was fourteen. Dad was still painting back then, but when she walked out on us, he and his artistic muse were hit hard. Until then, I hadn’t realized how quickly life can change. How easily the rug can be pulled out from under you.

But dwelling on the past won’t get me through those doors. Taking one more deep breath, I pull my shoulders back and stride as confidently as I can toward the entrance.

Once inside, I make my way to the security desk in the center of the foyer, my heels clicking loudly on the black marble floor.

“Hi,” I say to the stern-looking man behind the counter. “My name’s Chloe Callahan, and I’m here for an interview with Lena Harris.”

“Chloe?”

At the sound of the feminine voice, I turn and find an older woman with curly black hair and clever brown eyes holding out her hand. “I’m Lena.”

With a smile, I shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Come this way.” She gestures toward a bank of shiny elevators.

I follow her over, and once inside a stainless-steel car, Lena presses the button for the fourth floor. Before the doors close, three tall men stride in behind us. Three men I immediately recognize from the research I’ve done on the company. The dark-haired one with the piercing blue eyes is Cole King, the King Group’s chief of operations. The blond one with golden-brown eyes is Tate King, the chief of marketing, and the third is—my throat dries as I take him in fully—the third is Roman King, the CEO.

My potential new boss.

Photos don’t do any of the men justice, but especially Roman. From his height—easily six-three or six-four—to the breadth of his shoulders in that immaculately tailored charcoal suit, and from his perfectly styled, nearly black hair to the commanding line of his jaw, he’s by far the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in real life.

As the doors finally slide closed, his gaze flicks to me, sharp and unreadable. A slow sweep, wolf-gray eyes fringed by thick dark lashes burning their way down my body, sending a flash of heat sizzling through my veins. When that mesmerizing gaze meets mine again, a subtle charge crackles in the air between us. Though it must just be in my imagination; apart from a slight narrowing of those incredible eyes, his stony expression never changes.

“Good morning, Roman,” Lena says brightly, and his attention snaps to her as if he’s only now noticing her presence. “Looks like you get to meet one of your prospective assistants after all.”

He focuses on me with laser-like intensity once again. “Is that right?”

His voice is deep and smooth and almost as unreadable as his expression. And the tension in the air when he looked at me the first time has disappeared completely—if it was ever there at all.

Despite how dry my throat is, I force myself to swallow and hold my hand out to him, smiling as warmly as I can. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. King.”

He hesitates for a moment before his large hand engulfs mine. “Nice to meet you.” With his icy expression, I half expect his skin to be cool to the touch—like he might actually be some kind of sinfully gorgeous vampire. Instead, his palm is warm and dry. Though the contact does send a little shiver up my spine.

Before I have a chance to examine that reaction, he lets go.

A moment later, the elevator comes to a stop, the doors open, and Lena says, “This is us.”

I give Roman another smile, but he’s already turned back to his brothers.

Heat prickles through me at his disregard. He may be gorgeous, but he’s not exactly charming. Though maybe that’s good. Lack of charm I can deal with. Working for a man that attractive, who’s warm and kind as well, might be dangerous, the risk of developing a crush a little too high for comfort.

And everyone knows crushing on the boss is asking for trouble.

The doors slide shut behind us, and as I fall into step with Lena, I clear my throat. “Is Mr. King always so…” I struggle to find a word that will convey the impact of his presence.

Lena laughs. “Intense? The short answer is yes. But I’d say a better term is driven. He’s one of the best businessmen I know, but he’s very focused. Which means he expects everyone who works for him to be focused too.”

“That isn’t a problem,” I hasten to say, even as my ever-present concern over Dad’s care niggles at me.

She leads me into a small but luxuriously appointed room and gestures toward a pair of couches facing each other over a glass coffee table.

Once we’re both seated, I glance at the door. “Mr. King won’t be joining us?”

“No. Unfortunately his schedule is completely full. But he trusts me to choose someone suitable.”

I nod, unsure whether being relieved that my potential boss won’t be interviewing me is a good sign. But if he were here, looking at me the way he did in the elevator, I don’t know that I’d be able to think clearly, let alone speak without stumbling over my words.

“So,” Lena says with a smile. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

We spend the next twenty minutes talking about my education and my past employment. I respond as tactfully as I can when she asks about Geoff. I don’t want to be known as a person who badmouths their previous boss.

“So, you were with Talon for three years. What was your reason for leaving?” she asks.

The pressure in my chest that’s plagued me for the last two weeks returns. “The company was bought out, and a number of positions were cut during the restructure—including mine.”

She hums, the sound more like confirmation of something she already knew. I imagine it’s probably a detail the recruitment agency passed on.

“Now, have you?—”

My ringtone shrills from the purse at my feet, piercing the quiet room. Shit. I forgot to put it on silent when I arrived. It’s not something I’m in the habit of doing, because I usually keep it on in case Dad needs me.

“I’m sorry.” I scrabble in my purse, desperately hoping it’s just a random call that I can decline. But when I finally find it and Dad’s name is flashing on the screen, my heart sinks. “I’m so sorry,” I repeat. “I have to take this quickly.”

Lena arches a brow but merely nods.

I slide my thumb across the screen to answer and press the phone to my ear. “Is everything okay?”

Susan’s slightly nasal voice sounds through the earpiece. “Your father took a little tumble. I’ve given him some painkillers, and he seems okay, but I thought I should let you know—in case you were planning to take your time getting home.”

My hand tightens around the phone. She knows I don’t go gallivanting around the city for no reason. My social life has been mostly on hold since Dad’s condition worsened a couple of years ago. But I need her help, so rather than snap back, I keep my tone even.

“Okay, thank you for letting me know. Do you mind staying with him until I get home? I won’t be too much longer.”

She begrudgingly agrees, and with my stomach in knots, I hang up. It’s not Dad’s fault, but the timing of his fall couldn’t have been worse. There’s no way I’ll get this job now. Not after Lena’s comment about focus earlier.

I slip my phone back into my purse and give her an apologetic smile.

“Kids?” she asks, her tone laced with a thread of sympathy I wasn’t expecting.

“My father, actually.” I let out a sigh. “He has rheumatoid arthritis, and he fell.”

“You live at home with him?”

“Yes, I moved in a couple of years ago to help out.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry again for the interruption, and I understand if I’ve wasted your ti?—”

She holds up a hand. “Not so fast. You have someone depending on you at home. That’s understandable, and I’ve been there.”

“I appreciate that, but I assume the situation isn’t ideal.”

She shrugs. “No situation is ideal, and we all have people who rely on us—children, parents, even employees. To be honest, knowing you’ve stepped up to help your dad makes me like you even more.”

The knots in my stomach loosen a little.

“I do need to ask, though. Does this kind of thing happen frequently? Is it likely you’ll need to leave the office often in the middle of the workday?”

“No. Normally he’s very careful. This is only the second time he’s fallen since I moved in.”

“Okay.” She looks down at the notes in front of her. “You’re young. Probably younger than we’d normally consider for an executive assistant position. But your college transcript is impressive, the HR department from your last job gave you a glowing reference, and you’re caring for your father. All of that tells me you’re dedicated, hard-working, and, in my opinion”—she gives me a wry smile—“you have your priorities straight. Which is more than I can say for some people in this building.”

The quirk of her lips makes me wonder if she’s talking about her boss.

She tilts her head, scrutinizing me. “I like you for this position, Chloe. I think you might be a much-needed breath of fresh air in the office. But if you get the job, you may have to work longer hours than you’re used to. With the responsibilities you have, would you be comfortable doing that?”

My mind whirrs, working overtime to weigh the intricacies of the situation. This job might have longer hours, but the pay is significantly better than what I made at Talon. If I get the position, I can afford Dad’s medication—and maybe even some of the more advanced treatments, which might help improve his independence. That has to be worth asking Susan to help out a little more often, even if she does annoy him. And I know she’ll be happy to take the extra money.

“I’m comfortable. I have a care arrangement in place, which should be able to accommodate early starts or staying late when needed.”

She smiles. “Okay. I have a couple more interviews to do this afternoon, so, I’ll let you know my decision at the end of the day or early tomorrow.”

“Of course, that’s fine.”

I’m feeling buoyed as I descend the steps outside King Plaza a few minutes later. This could be the break we need. But remembering Susan’s call, I pick up my pace. With his joints as stiff and painful as they are, a fall can take quite a toll on Dad.

Luckily, when I get home, his crotchety mood and Susan’s general irritation tell me everything’s okay. As I walk her to the door, I broach the subject of possibly working longer hours.

She grumbles a little but eventually agrees when I reassure her that she’ll be compensated appropriately. She’s retired and at home most of the day anyway. When she’s not checking in on Dad, she’s usually sitting by the window, indulging in her role as the unofficial neighborhood watch. At least this keeps her busy and helps break up her days.

After she’s gone, I fuss over Dad, making sure he’s comfortable. When I notice that his knee is puffy and warm to the touch, I grab a fresh icepack from the freezer and gently place it over the swollen joint. I make lunch, then sit on the end of the couch closest to his chair and tell him about the interview.

When I mention my brief exchange with my potential new boss, he frowns. “Are you sure you’d be okay working for someone like that?”

“Of course,” I reassure him. “No matter how driven and focused he might be, I’m sure he won’t be unreasonable. Lena’s worked for him for several years, and she seemed lovely.”

Dad doesn’t look convinced but nods anyway. “Okay, love, let’s keep our fingers crossed that you get the job, then.”

I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to distract myself. I even limit myself to checking my phone only twice to make sure it’s fully charged and not set to silent, the way it should have been during my interview.

When it rings just before dinner, I leap at it.

“Hello?” My voice is only slightly breathless.

“Hi, Chloe. It’s Lena.”

She sounds cheerful, but I hold my breath anyway, unwilling to get my hopes up prematurely.

“I’m so happy to tell you that you’ve got the job.”

Relief slices through me, sharp and sweet. “Thank you so much.”

“Since you’re not working at the moment, could you start first thing on Monday?”

My pulse kicks, but I don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course.”

“Great. I won’t be there to show you around and help you get acclimated, but Sophie, one of the other executive assistants, will show you the ropes.”

“Of course, that’s fine.”

She hesitates. “Look, I think you’ll be a great assistant for Roman. But as you’ve already experienced, he can be a bit… abrupt. Don’t let him intimidate you. He’ll discover quickly enough that you can do the job, but until then, you may have to show him what you’re made of.”

Nerves ripple through me as an image of those steely gray eyes flashes in my mind, but I nod firmly, even though she can’t see it. “I think I can do that.”

She chuckles. “You’re going to get on just fine.”

As she goes over what to expect on Monday, I can only hope she’s right.