Chapter 6
Maddy
“Hi, I’m Maddy,” I mutter under my breath. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Yes, I’m so excited to join the team.” I cringe inwardly at my own rehearsal, my nerves frayed before I even step through the door.
I came on strong with Adrian Frank, my stupidly hot boss.
And now, I have to actually live up to those standards.
I have no freaking clue what came over me when I acted the way I did in his office. He gave off this vibe that made me feel like I had to put on a show.
Now I’m completely out of my element. I don’t know how I’m going to do this every single day.
I stop outside the front of Modern Edge Development, just to the left of the main doors. I run my hands over the navy-colored pantsuit I borrowed from Riley. It’s not something I would usually wear, but it’s made by some Italian designer, and I want to make a good first impression.
I take one final deep breath and then make my way through the glass doors, forcing myself to face my first day. Ten minutes early.
Can’t complain about that now. Can you, Adrian?
I step up to the reception desk, where a woman with perfect posture and scarlet lipstick looks up, completely unenthused by my existence.
“Madison Williams,” I say, not sounding nearly as confident as I’d like. “I’m starting today—”
“New executive assistant. I know.” She gives a brisk nod, then checks her monitor. “Please take a seat. Mr. Frank will be with you shortly. He requested that you see him first before starting the day.”
Oh god, this is going to be fun. Or torturous.
I keep a smile on my face and nod, then sink into one of the chairs, which is apparently designed to punish tailbones. I clutch my bag and glance at my phone.
Riley: You’re going to KILL it. That pantsuit makes your ass look so good.
I heart the message, but don’t take the time to text her back. The last thing I need is for Adrian to walk out and see me on my phone. I slide my phone into my bag, and then balance the bag on my knees, hoping to hide the anxious bouncing.
But it only gets worse as the minutes tick by.
I read every word on the visitor Wi-Fi sign multiple times.
I count the number of black tiles on the floor and get to 156 before I give up.
And then I start to worry that the entire interview process was an elaborate prank, and that at any moment, someone will jump out from behind a planter and tell me it’s all a really mean joke.
But nope. Instead, the elevator dings, and Adrian fucking Frank steps out.
He is even more intimidating first thing in the morning.
His suit is charcoal and obviously tailored, and his dark hair is so precisely parted, I wonder how long it took him.
His face has the perfect five o’clock shadow, and his chocolate eyes only take a moment to find mine.
He laser focuses on me with a calculating look.
And it goes right to my lady bits, in the most embarrassing way.
“Ms. Williams,” he says, giving me a curt nod. “Glad to see you’re on time today.”
“Good morning.” I quickly stand to my feet and sling my bag over my shoulder. He gives me a once-over and then gestures for me to follow him.
He leads me toward the elevator, his stride so long I almost have to jog to keep up. “You didn’t have any problem finding the lobby this morning?” he deadpans as he smashes the up button.
“The lobby is… hard to miss.” I try for light, but it doesn’t land.
He doesn’t smile, but there’s a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. “We like to make an impression. I think that’s important.”
The elevator ride is silent. The only sound is the soft whoosh of air and my heart trying to hammer its way through my ribcage. I look at the elevator’s mirrored doors and, for a split second, I don’t recognize myself.
I look composed, calm, and not at all like I’m about to have a panic attack, my brunette hair up in a nice, tight ponytail. I’m totally playing the part.
Well, in appearance, anyway.
When the doors open, I recognize where we are. The office is an open plan, but the partitions are glass, so you can see everything—and everyone—at all times.
That’s one way to keep an eye on your people.
“Your desk is here,” he says, gesturing to a workspace tucked into a row near the partner offices. The desk is minimalist, a single monitor, keyboard, and one lone pen. I wonder what would happen if I wanted more pens. And are highlighters allowed?
I set my bag down in the white leather chair and turn to Adrian, who keeps talking.
“I’ll take you to HR now. They’ll collect all your paperwork and get whatever else they need from you.
” He barely slows as we move through the maze of glass.
He towers over everyone as he moves ahead of me, and it’s impossible to miss the reaction of other employees.
At every corner, people see him coming and subtly adjust their posture.
“I’ll see you in a bit. Just do what Karen says,” Adrian instructs, dropping me off. He then vanishes, leaving behind the scent of his cologne and the vague sense that I have already disappointed him.
Story of my life.
Karen, the HR woman with a perpetual frown, goes through the remainder of the paperwork I haven’t finished with the enthusiasm of someone who sincerely hates her life. “Sign here, initial here. This is for tax. This is for insurance. This is for the NDA, which you should actually read.”
I nod and scribble, trying to keep up and ultimately failing. As I sign the final line, I slide the massive packet back to her and slump a little in the chair.
She raises her eyebrows at me. “How are you feeling about your first day?”
“Excited,” I lie, pasting a smile on my face. “A little nervous, but excited.”
She hands me an orientation folder and a keycard. “You’ll need this to get to your floor, and also for the restrooms. Do not lose it.”
Yikes. That’s a warning.
But I take it with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Also, I hope you read the fine print. You’ll be assisting all three partners,” she explains. “It’s a high-demand role.”
“I’ve been told.” I hesitate as Karen stares at me with no expression whatsoever. “I’ll do my best.”
She studies me, then gives a small, pitying smile. “I’m sure you will. Best of luck to you, dear. You can head back to your space. In your orientation packet, there’s the login in for the system.”
When I make it back to my new desk, there’s a cute little welcome kit sitting on the black surface. I pick up the herbal stress tea tin and then set it back down. Carefully, I take a seat in the desk chair, and as soon as I relax just a fraction…
I see him.
Beck.
He is taller than I remember, maybe because last time he was naked and horizontal. He’s in a blue button-down, sleeves rolled up, tie loose in a way that looks so deliberate and sexy. He’s walking alongside another equally handsome man, head tilted in a half-listening, half-joking way.
And I can barely breathe as he closes in on my desk.
In a panic, I wave the mouse, waking up the computer monitor and trying to appear busy. But it’s too late.
He sees me.
For a split second, the world freezes, but I realize quickly it’s just Beck’s expression remaining exactly the same, as he walks straight toward me.
Oh shit. Shit. Shit.
“Hey there,” he says, voice casual and calm, just like the night at the bar. “You must be Maddy?”
Does he really not recognize me? Or is this a game?
Either way, my face is hot, and I want to die.
He sticks out his hand before I get a chance to speak. “Beck Prosser. One of your new bosses, apparently.”
His grip is warm, steady. And oh-so familiar.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, which is somehow the most humiliating thing I’ve ever uttered, given that he’s been balls deep in me.
He holds my hand for a second longer than necessary. “I’m looking forward to working with you,” he says, not an ounce of flirt in the way he talks to me.
I glance around, realizing that at least two people are watching us. One of them is Adrian, standing in his glass office with arms crossed and the curtains open. The other is a woman with sharp cheekbones and dark wavy hair, who doesn’t look like she has an ounce of kindness in her.
Beck’s gaze bounces to them, then back to me. “If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be in the corner office.” Then just like that, he’s gone.
As if we didn’t have sex like a week ago. And that’s when it hits me fully.
I am working for the man I had a one-night stand with.
And he’s pretending we’ve never met.
Holy hell. How did I get myself into this situation?
I try to focus on the orientation checklist, but the words are a blur. My brain replays the hotel room, the way he’d looked at me, the way his hand had cupped the back of my neck, how he’d fallen asleep with me—and then how I left without saying anything at all.
I want to crawl under the desk and never emerge.
But I can’t, because now Adrian is standing in front of me.
“How’s the setup?” he asks, voice questioning, as if he can sense that I’m seconds from a full meltdown.
“Great,” I choke out. “I just met Mr. Prosser.” I make my voice as neutral as possible, hoping like hell he doesn’t know what’s going on.
He sighs. “He likes to make the rounds.” There’s a pause. “Don’t let him distract you. He’ll try, and while I understand that you’re his assistant, too, it’s best to keep your head down and get your work done.”
I nod. “Got it.”
He leans in, his dark eyes penetrating mine. “This job requires attention to detail. I have high expectations for you.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, and immediately want to take it back because sir feels wrong. But he just nods and moves on.
I spend the next hour filling out digital forms, sorting office supplies, and reading through the employee handbook. There’s a line about maintaining professional boundaries with peers and supervisors that makes me want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
Does it count if it happened before I was hired?
Before I can think it through, my computer pings and I’m summoned to the partner conference room.