Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Gigi
Big tears fill Emma’s eyes as I kiss her cheek. Standing in front of us is her new teacher, Miss Clemons.
She’s young and pretty with a gentle smile, and I’m sure Emma will do wonderfully in her care, but right now, Emma doesn’t want me to leave.
Her little arms wrap around my neck, “Don’t go, Mama.”
My heart breaks. If there was one perk when I was still with Vigo, it was that I could be there for her all the time.
I’ve used up my inheritance, supporting her without alimony, and now there’s no choice. I have to work. “Don’t worry, M&M, you’re going to love this school.”
“Let me show you your cubby, Emma, and then we can join the morning circle,” Miss Clemons takes Emma’s hand, gently removing her arm from around me.
My daughter’s lip juts out, but she goes with Miss Clemons after one backward glance. I sigh with relief and turn, glad I won’t be late for my very first day with Mr. Smith. I hurry up the elevators, using my special key to access the floor with the Smith offices.
The doors slide open, and a very polished looking redhead stands on the other side of the door. She sticks out her hand, her gaze assessing me. “No wonder he picked you,” she says as she winks. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Right back at you.” I take her hand. “I’m Gigi.”
“Rachel. I’m the New York assistant to the other Smith brothers. A floater…” She waves her hand. Then she leans closer. “I fill in with Mr. Smith when he’s between assistants, but I prefer not to work for Big Bad Bossman too often.”
Big Bad Bossman…great. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“I’d tell you, but you’ll understand by the end of the day. Come. First order of business, learning how he likes his coffee. It’s an easy one, since he drinks it black. But there are specific brewing instructions.”
I give a tight nod, already dreading the day.
It turns out, the brewing instructions are the least of it.
Just like yesterday, Rushton Smith arrives in the office on the phone and irritated. He’s no less handsome, his dark eyes sweeping over the room like he’s taking in every minute detail, even as he speaks into his phone.
If what’s he’s doing can even be considered something as civilized as speaking. It’s more like he’s barking orders as he passes by me and Rachel. His bag is slammed on my desk, as he storms into his office without a word.
“Follow with the coffee,” Rachel hisses in my ear. “He doesn’t like to sit until it’s on his desk.”
I turn, frantically following, moving as quickly as I can without spilling the very full, scalding hot beverage.
I make it into his office, and barely have time to admire the stunning view of the New York skyline, as I slide the cup onto his desk.
He’s still yelling orders into his phone, scowling as he does.
Coffee in place, I breathe a sigh of relief before I turn, hoping to exit as quickly as possible.
“Miss Hope,” he says, pulling the receiver from his ear. “Come back in five minutes.”
“Of course, Mr. Smith,” I breathe, trying to decide if I should curtsy. Which is stupid. He’s not royalty. Or is he? I think I heard that his brother is an actual duke in England and that he’s related to the king.
I settle for dipping my chin, turning quickly, as I leave his office and then proceed to hover outside his door.
I hear him barking into the phone, and I listen intently. I’m not eavesdropping as much as I’m just trying to learn about the contracts he’s working on and where he might need assistance. I feel like I’ve just been dropped in the middle of a war zone.
He hangs up the phone, and then sharply calls out, “Ms. Hope.”
I jump and then scurry back into his office. “Mr. Smith.”
He eyes me again, his assessing gaze making me shrink a little. He starts at my feet, encased in the heels I scrounged from a thrift shop, and moves up to the pencil skirt from the same store.
I’ve got a decent eye, and both pieces are from designer labels. I bought some new blouses thinking they’d help me look fresher and professional.
His eyes move up my neck and stop at my hair. I resist the urge to finger the shoulder-length bob. It still feels strange.
“You’d look better as a brunette.”
I blink a few times, my lips parting. “All right.” I don’t exactly want to argue, even if his comment is heavy handed, and I definitely don’t want to explain my choice of hair color.
He opens a desk drawer and pulls out a manual from its interior. “This is our employee handbook. I’ve marked the pages I’d like you to review.”
“Of course,” I say, taking a step toward him to retrieve the book.
He pulls it tighter to his body, leaving me angled toward him. “When you are here, you are on my time, Ms. Hope. No personal calls, no long lunches, no excuses.”
My back molars clench together. Keeping that standard while being a single mom is going to be challenging, if not impossible, but I nod anyway. What choice do I have?
From the drawer, he also pulls out a set of keys and sets them on top of the book. “I work long hours. Any time I need you after five will be time and half for you. But to make certain you’re available for after-hours work, I’ve arranged for you to have an apartment in the building.”
My heart jumps in my throat, as I breathe out, “Thank you.” It’s what I’d hoped for, though the part where he mentioned working a lot of overtime has my toes curling in my heels.
Balancing Emma’s needs and this job is going to be a challenge for sure.
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, handing me the keys and the manual. “Rachel can show you the filing system, the phone system, and then take a few minutes to look over the marked pages. I’ve got a meeting with the city planning board at ten, I’d like you to take notes.”
I nod, drawing in a slow, steadying breath of air as I hug the manual to my chest. “Of course.”
“Would you like to know why I hired you?” he asks, looking down at me with those dark eyes that I can’t read and that make me want to run and hide.
The honest answer is…no. I don’t want to know. But I also know that I’m supposed to say yes. I can’t quite bring myself to ask the question, though, so I just give a tight nod.
He eyes me for a moment, taking his time, before he finally answers, “You’re clearly smart enough, but don’t seem to have a chip on your shoulder. There is only room for one of those in this office.”
Noted.
I turn, manual in hand, and scurry as fast as my heels will allow, back to my desk. Rachel is waiting, her brows up. “How’d it go?” she whispers, eyeing Mr. Smith’s door.
“Big Bad Bossman,” I whisper back.
She cracks a smile before she gestures for me to sit. I do and she spends the next forty -five minutes showing me the digital files, the hardcopy filing drawers, and the phone system, schooling me on the greeting and other pertinent details.
“The Jersey deal is all anyone is talking about. The Smiths are buying a major piece of land right on the waterfront. They’re hoping to develop it into condos, shopping, luxury offices, the works.
It’s going to be an even larger version of this place, bigger and better in every way.
But they’ve had major competition, and they seem to be hitting every snag known to real estate. ”
I grimace. I know that my ex-husband is one of those snags. Maybe he’s all of them.
He wanted that land for himself. A project like that can wash endless amounts of money and provide legitimate W-2s for his crew, as well as huge kickbacks.
But I push Vigo out of my mind. I’m here to build a life without him.
It’s ten before I know it. Mr. Smith strides out of his office, and I pick up my brand-new office-provided laptop, doing my best to keep up with him on his way to the conference room.
Before long at this job, I’m going to have to learn how to run in heels.
We’re the last to arrive, and I’m so relieved when I see Erika in the corner. One of the lawyers she works for must be at this meeting as well.
I settle next to her, pulling out my laptop.
“Ms. Hope,” Mr. Smith’s dark, sharp voice cuts through me. “Let’s offer our guests some beverages.”
My eyes go wide as I stand so quickly, I nearly drop my new computer. Setting it on my chair, I meet Erika’s worried gaze.
I try to give her an encouraging smile as I cross to the mini fridge that’s tucked under a countertop and assess what I can offer. I wish he’d mentioned this as a duty prior to entering the room. I would have prepared, but I’ll know for next time.
Still, it feels a little like being set up to fail.
The men quietly talk as I move about the table, offering bottles of water. Before I’ve finished the lap around the room, Mr. Smith calls the meeting into order.
I rush back to my computer, attempting to take the notes I’ve been assigned, but I’m behind before I’ve even begun.
Still, using some shorthand because the meeting is a lot of legal jargon, I catch up. “Are you getting this, Ms. Hope?” Mr. Smith asks so suddenly, the entire room stops, turning to me.
“Yes, Mr. Smith,” I answer quickly. “We’re filing a motion for a variance with the zoning board of appeals in order to expedite the sale.”
A few men tuck their chins, hiding smiles. Did I pass the test or fail?
“Not bad, Rush,” one of the men murmurs. “Certainly better than your last.”
“Prettier too,” another mumbles, but I hear it. I dip my chin to hide my frown. I don’t want to be seen like that. I don’t want to be seen at all.
When I lift it again, I meet my boss’s stare, his gaze intent upon me. It’s probably only a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity until he looks away.
Drawing a jagged breath, I go back to taking notes.
Next to me, Erika quietly clears her throat. I can’t even look at her, I might cry.
This is going to be the longest first day ever.