Chapter 3
three
. . .
Georgia
I was grateful that I’d worn pants this morning because it was bone-chillingly cold today.
When I’d driven home from my interview yesterday, I’d passed the lot owned by one of my brother’s best friends, Brax, where a lot of the locals had their cars for sale.
Unfortunately, a car was well beyond my budget at the moment, but I did have some graduation money in the bank, so I’d purchased the cutest white scooter.
It even came with a matching helmet, and the whole thing was only two hundred bucks.
It was the temporary solution I was looking for.
I didn’t know how long I could pull off the excuse that my car was in the shop.
My brother, Hugh, was already annoyed that I’d left it at an auto shop in the city when his good friend, Roddy, would have worked on it here in Cottonwood Cove and given me a deal.
No, duh.
I wasn’t a dipshit.
I was a survivor.
I had a gift for buying time, and that was exactly what I was doing. My car was not in the shop. It had been stolen.
Well, stolen might be a bit harsh, seeing as I knew the thief all too well.
Dikota Smith, a.k.a. my insane ex-boyfriend, had taken my car and was holding it hostage. He’d refused to give it back to me until I agreed to start seeing him again.
I sure can pick ‘em, right?
I loved finding broken things and trying to put them back together. The problem with Dikota was that he was broken beyond repair. The guy never acted like he was into me until another guy showed me any kind of attention, or when I’d finally called off the relationship.
Then he suddenly couldn’t live without me.
So, he’d taken my keys the last time I saw him and had driven away in my car. He’d hidden it somewhere and wouldn’t give it back.
And this wasn’t even the worst thing that he’d done to me, but I wasn’t going to ruin my good mood thinking about it.
Obviously, I could go to the police or ask my family for help, but the whole thing was embarrassing, and I was just hoping he’d come to his senses soon. Unfortunately, it had been several weeks, and he was still blowing up my phone about getting back together and acting like a lunatic.
Block him?
Sure. I’d love to. But the guy had my car, and I wanted it back.
I parked my scooter behind Lancaster Press and rubbed my hands together, thankful for the white furry gloves I’d grabbed this morning before I left. My nose was frozen, and I reached for my bag that was sitting in the basket behind my seat and hurried to the front door.
I was obviously the first one here because the door was locked.
I’d come early, hoping to impress my grumpy boss on my first day on the job as well as sneak out of the house before Hugh or Lila discovered that I was driving a scooter.
I’d been forced to park it a few blocks away from the house so they wouldn’t see it.
Another downside to the scooter was the fact that it was freezing outside, and I couldn’t turn on the heat and wait inside like I would if it were a car.
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it from my coat pocket and jogged in place as I read the messages in our never-ending sibling group chat. I had three older brothers and one older sister, and we were all very close.
Brinkley
Good luck today, Georgie! You’re going to kill it.
Hugh
You left before breakfast? We wanted to feed you. I thought you started at 8:00 a.m.?
I wanted to make a good impression.
Had I known I’d be waiting outside, I’d have been less eager to be this early.
Cage
That is a winning attitude. Early bird gets the worm.
Finn
Tequila drinkers also get the worm. I’m on set this morning, or I’d definitely still be in bed. You’ve got this, girl! Dazzle the billionaire.
Brinkley
Did you tell him that you were the county pickleball champ?
Yep. He didn’t seem too dazzled.
Hugh
Did you share your ridiculous knowledge of seventies music?
Nope. I thought I’d pull that out at a later date.
I started jumping up and down because jogging in place was not working, and my eyes were watering. I feared my tears would freeze on my cheeks if I didn’t start warming up.
Cage
Just be yourself. You already have the job. And hey, if it doesn’t work out, you can always come work for me. I’ve got an appointment with a sick pig and a duck with digestion issues this morning. Does it get any better than this?
Finn
A pig and a duck walked into a bar…
Hugh
And the duck said, “Be sure to give me the bill.”
My head fell back in laughter as I continued sprinting in place as fast as I could.
“My god. How long have you been standing out here? It’s freezing,” Maddox Lancaster said, startling the hell out of me as I spun around. I gasped and dropped my phone before losing my balance and slamming my head into the brick wall and nearly falling to the ground.
Two strong hands found my shoulders and steadied me, and his dark brown eyes studied me with concern.
“Oh, hey,” I said, trying to pull myself together as I moved to reach for my phone, but he stopped me as he bent down to grab it.
He handed me my phone and unlocked the door, holding it open for me to walk inside ahead of him.
He flipped on the lights, and I pulled the gloves and hat off my head and quickly tried to pat my hair into place.
My lips were still frozen, and my teeth were chattering.
This was not the impression I was hoping to make.
He studied me for a few seconds, but it felt longer because he didn’t smile, and he looked… annoyed? Angry? Concerned?
“Is your head okay?” he asked, his voice deep and growly.
“Yes. Of course. My hat has a lot of padding.” I held it by the giant pom-pom on top and shook it in front of myself like a fool.
“Why didn’t you wait in your car?”
“I didn’t drive my car here. It’s in the shop.” I cleared my throat because the man had a way of making me feel like he could see through me. He narrowed his gaze like he wasn’t buying it.
He didn’t even know me.
How did he know I was lying?
Obviously, he was correct, but he didn’t know that.
“Did you drive that white bicycle I saw parked in the lot here?” he asked, and it came off very condescending and rude, which I did not appreciate.
I squared my shoulders. He might be my new boss, but there was no reason to be an asshole. I’d come early and had frozen my ass off outside, and I didn’t need to be treated like a child.
“It’s a high-powered scooter, and yes, it’s my temporary form of transportation.
It also has nothing to do with my job, so I don’t appreciate you acting like I’ve broken the rules when I was the first one to arrive today, on my bicycle.
” I glared at him, and the feeling started to come back in my hands because they were fisted at my sides.
The corners of his lips turned up just the slightest bit, and he nodded. “Fair enough. I’m impressed you beat me because I’m always the first one here. How about we get you a key, so if you ever arrive before me, you’ll be able to come inside?”
“Okay,” I said, my anger starting to dissipate.
I followed him through the bottom floor, and he showed me where the employee break room was, and I gasped that it was stocked with protein bars, fruit, nuts, and energy drinks.
“I take it you like snacks?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I shrugged as I followed him down the hallway, and he pointed out different offices. There were two offices for editors, a whole area for the marketing team, and even a big space to brainstorm ideas with couches and bean bags.
“Ah… I’m a big fan of the bean bag. I had a huge hot pink bean bag in my room in high school, and I would sleep on it most nights,” I said.
He paused and looked at me. “Interesting. You drive a high-powered scooter and sleep on a bean bag.”
He was such a pompous ass sometimes. But damn, he was good-looking.
He wore a black trench coat, a gray scarf, and he looked like he’d just stepped off a photo shoot for a fashion magazine.
I had a feeling there was a more casual guy beneath this facade somewhere, and if anyone could dig him out, it would be me.
“What can I say? I’m a girl of many talents—” My words were cut off when we turned the corner, and I came to a screeching halt.
“What’s wrong?” He shoved his hands into his coat pockets as he watched me.
“There is a ping-pong table here? I told you that I excel at unusual sports.”
“Let me guess. You’re the county champion of ping-pong?” He was trying to be sarcastic, but there was humor in his tone.
“I guess you’ll just have to see for yourself. Do you play?”
“Ping-pong?” He raised a brow. “That’s a hard no.”
“Then why do you have a table at the office?”
“Because studies show that creative people need outlets. I had the team vote on what they wanted brought in, and this was the winner. But it’s only used when there is something to celebrate, at lunchtime, or after working for several hours when the whole team takes a break.
I don’t micromanage my employees. I trust them.
If they do their job, I’m happy. So, they have a space to have a little fun, and they appreciate it.
This was similar to our setup in the city. ”
I glanced over to see a large whiteboard with names listed and numbered. I couldn’t wait to jump in and get on that list.
He started walking again, and I followed him as we made our way up the stairs to the top floor.
“These are the administrative offices. This is your space here.” He motioned to the desk outside his office.
It was a large, white modern desk, L-shaped, with lots of drawers and storage cabinets on the wall behind it.
It wasn’t enclosed, so I’d be out in the open.
I set my briefcase down and unzipped the top and pulled out the photo of my family and set it on the desk, before reaching back inside and finding the gold “G” that looked like a paperweight and setting it in the corner before pulling out my pad of inspirational sayings and setting it on the side of the desk.
I liked to start the day with a positive mantra to kick things off.
He smirked. “You came prepared. Is that your family?”
“Yep. That’s all of us.”
“There’s a lot of you.”
“You can never have too many Reynolds,” I said, biting down on my bottom lip.
“I don’t know about that. One seems like plenty, so far.”
Ouch. He really wasn’t a fan of mine. I’d have to work on that.
“So, will I be working for everyone on this floor?”
“Absolutely not. You are my admin. If anyone starts tasking you, let me know. Grab a notebook—there are a few in the drawer—and meet me in my office. We’ll go over everything you’ll be doing for me.”
I glanced in the drawer and saw the bland spiral notebooks and shut it immediately. I reached into my bag and pulled out my cheetah notebook, along with my pink pen. I slipped off my coat, dropped my keys in my top desk drawer, and hurried into his office.
He’d taken off his coat, and his fitted black dress shirt strained against his broad shoulders. He wore black pants, black expensive-looking loafers, and a black belt.
“Wow. Someone’s channeling their inner Johnny Cash today.”
“Is that a cheetah notebook?” He completely ignored me as his eyes scanned my face and then moved down to my waist. He slowly perused my pink silk blouse, and I nervously pressed the nonexistent wrinkles out of my cream dress pants.
“It is. Do you have something against the cheetah?”
“Are you always a smart-ass?” he asked, folding his hands together and resting them on his desk. He was an intimidating man in a way, but for whatever reason, he didn’t scare me. I imagined most people squirmed under his death glare.
“Well, it depends on who you ask. Most of my family members would probably say yes. My friends would probably agree, too,” I said, in a bit of a ramble.
He groaned and held up his hands. “You do understand that I’m your boss, correct?”
Obviously, I knew he was my boss, as he’d interviewed me, and he was the president of the company. Bossman really wanted to drive this one home.
“I do.”
“Then let’s leave the smart-ass comments at the door.” He raised a brow, and I nodded.
Think of what Mom always says… You do not need to share every thought that runs through your mind.
“Got it, Mr. Lancaster,” I said, plastering a wide smile on my face.
He leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat. “Good. Tell me why you’re driving that ridiculous contraption in the cold.”
“My car is in the shop.” I’d already told him that, but I was trying not to be a smart-ass, so I wouldn’t remind him that he already knew the answer to that question.
“When will it be ready?”
“Soon, I hope.”
“And you can’t borrow a car from one of your many family members?” he asked, and there was that condescending tone again. But I would not react.
“I don’t want to ask them. I’m trying to prove that I can do things on my own. I just graduated from college, so it’s time to be a grown-up.”
His lips twitched the slightest bit, and if I was reading Maddox Lancaster correctly, I’d say that he liked my answer. But I had the feeling that he’d never admit it.
“I understand that. So, let’s go over your duties.”
I pulled the feather cap off my pink pen and slipped it onto the back, crossed my legs, and balanced the notebook on my lap.
He proceeded to spend the next thirty minutes giving me the most exhaustive list of duties.
I would be doing everything from getting coffee, ordering lunch for the office, sitting in on his meetings and taking notes, to picking up his dry cleaning and setting dinner reservations.
He would also occasionally have me read blurbs and give feedback, and we’d be adding in other things as he saw fit.
So, basically, I’d be a coffee and errand girl if I didn’t prove that I was up for more.
But I planned to impress the hell out of him.
Odd sports may be my specialty, but difficult men were a close second.
Game on, Bossman.