Chapter 3
Chapter Three
BANE
S he was already there when I arrived on Monday, her coat draped over the chair behind her desk, but the office empty. I glanced at my watch, surprised. It was barely seven-thirty. I looked around, wondering where she was, when she cleared her throat from behind me. I turned to say good morning, the words freezing in my throat.
She wore another old-fashioned blouse. Lace at her throat and wrists. It was a soft mossy green, and the skirt she wore was perfectly modest yet, on her, was sexy as hell. It fit her perfectly, molded to her hips and thighs as if it was made for her.
Her hair was up, swept away from her face. I had a vision of pulling it down and burying my fingers in it as I kissed her. I had to take a step back and shake my head, the lure of her was so strong.
I dropped my gaze to her feet, then met her confused gaze. “Managed to keep your shoes on this time,” I observed, my voice clipped.
She smiled, and I instantly regretted my words. I didn’t want to have any sort of relationship or inside jokes with her. She was simply someone to make my life easier at the office.
That was all.
“No missing the bus this morning. I’ll get your coffee, then head to HR. I was told to come back at eight.”
“What time did you get here?”
“Oh, about seven. Pete let me up. We made friends Friday when I left. Lovely man.”
She turned and walked away, and I almost groaned at the slit up the back of her skirt and the way the material hugged her ass.
I headed into my office and hung up my coat, then sat at my desk. Ms. Myers walked in, carrying a steaming cup of coffee and setting it down, then took a seat in the same chair she’d been in on Friday. She opened a notebook, her pen poised.
“What shall I call you?” she asked.
“My name,” I said drolly.
“First or business?”
“Business.”
“All right, Mr. Bane. I have my morning mapped out, but is there something you need?”
I pushed the coffee toward her. “Very pretty coffee, Myers, but I like it black. No milk, no sugar, no foamy designs needed.”
She frowned, looking disappointed. “I thought so, but I wanted you to see how great I can make a cup look. I’ll drink it and bring you a plain black one.” She paused, then grinned. “If you want to impress a client with my coffee skills, just let me know.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” I replied dryly, trying not to notice how lovely she was when she smiled. “Normally, the only things needed to impress them are my skills, but I’ll keep that in mind.”
I stared at her, waiting. She met my gaze. Her dark eyes were warm, framed by long lashes. Very little makeup again, which somehow suited her more than a heavy hand with the eyeliner.
I sighed. “I still have no coffee.”
“Oh, right.” She sprang from her chair, rushing away.
I shook my head and, curious, took a sip of the foamy coffee. I had to admit, it was tasty. There was a slightly creamy edge to it, as well as a flavor I couldn’t place. Both countered the normally bitter brew that wasn’t unpleasant. My phone buzzed, and I looked down, scrolling through the messages. One was from my mother, demanding to see me. I went past that one, not wanting to deal with her and her orders at the moment. The rest, I could handle later.
Myers walked back in, carrying a steaming cup and setting it down in front of me. Her eyes widened. “You drank the first one!”
I glanced down, surprised to see I had indeed drunk it all.
“I was desperate,” I said dismissively.
“Did you like it?” she asked eagerly.
“It was passable.”
I picked up the fresh mug and took a sip, pausing before speaking. “Much better, Myers. Now, sit. I need to go over my expectations.”
She sat down, clearly unhappy, but picked up her notebook.
“Ready.”
MAGNOLIA
The office hummed around me, a constant background noise. People were in and out of Mr. Bane’s office all morning. I met the partners, other assistants, and some staff members. Most seemed pleasant. A woman came from the IT department, looking hesitant as she walked into the office.
“Hi,” I said brightly. “I’m Magnolia.”
“Rylee Jenkins. I have a new computer for you that Mr. Bane ordered.”
“Great. This one is awful.”
She grimaced, setting down the laptop and speaking quietly. “The last temp kept destroying the equipment. Like, daily. I refused to give her new purchases. But Mr. Bane says you’re good.” She met my eyes with a droll wink. “Coming from him, that is high praise.”
I decided right then that Rylee Jenkins and I were going to be friends.
She departed after giving me a quick run-through of the new machine. I sighed in happiness, trailing my fingers over the keyboard. I would be so much more efficient with this one.
Then I turned my attention to the task at hand. Alexander Bane’s calendar was a mess. Obviously, someone had tried to fix it, only to leave it worse off than before. I went from window to window, checking emails, dates, times. Looking over previous schedules. The newer, faster machine made it easier.
The morning flew by. I had a list of things to do—reorganize the files, color code them, change the tabs, rearrange the file cabinet items. I had familiarized myself with the names and projects being worked on. When Mr. Bane shouted out for a file, I would know where to get it from.
He did that a lot. Shouted. Grunted. Made an odd noise of displeasure in the back of his throat. Please was not a word he knew or, if he did, chose not to use often. At least, not so far.
I did a final look-through of his new calendar. It was perfection. I needed to sync his phone with the revised information, and then he would get an updated version constantly. He had disconnected it when the last PA had screwed everything up. It had been my priority once I’d looked at the mess.
I knocked on the partially open door, waiting for the enter grunt. It was different from his displeased grunt or his exasperated sigh. This was one of anticipation, as if he was waiting for my mistake so he could express his displeasure.
I heard a muffled noise, which I assumed was him, and I walked in, finding him on the phone, his eyes shut, his voice pitched low.
“No, Mother, not today.”
He listened.
“Tomorrow doesn’t suit either. I’m very busy with revisions. In fact, I leave in the morning for a week.”
I frowned, glancing at my notebook. I had no notes about him leaving.
“I have a meeting. I’ll be in touch.”
He hung up, shaking his head.
“You’re going away on a business trip?”
“No. Unless my mother calls. Then I’m away.”
“You want me to lie?”
He looked at me, his eyes a chilly blue—like a frozen wave on the ocean. Unwelcoming and cold.
“You will do what I tell you.” His phone rang again, and he ignored it. “Dammit, that woman is pissing me off. I need her to lose my extension.”
He scrubbed his face. “What is it you want, Myers?”
He had started calling me Myers almost immediately. I had wanted to protest, but then I realized he called a lot of people by their last name. Saved him the wasted breath of adding Mr., Ms., or God forbid, the long word Mrs.
His partners called him Bane. Everyone else that I had met so far called him Mr. Bane. I chose to follow the masses. I wasn’t sure what he would do if I called him Bane.
But he was rapidly becoming the bane of my existence.
“I need your cell phone to sync your calendar.”
His desk phone rang again, and I thought he was going to throw it through the window.
He handed me his cell, and I turned, holding it in my palm.
“What?” he snapped.
“I need your thumbprint to open it.”
The phone rang again, and he cursed, answering it. “Mother, I said I’m busy.”
I sighed, crossing behind the desk. His hand was on top of the wood, and I grabbed it, shocked when he curled his fingers around mine, holding tightly. I had the strangest need to rub his knuckles. Smooth back his hair and comfort him.
Except he would no doubt throw me through the window, along with the phone he was gripping.
I set down his cell, uncurling his fingers. He seemed to realize he’d been clasping my hand, yanking it away. Calmly, I took it, pressing his thumb to the screen, ignoring his frosty glare and the angry words he was shooting at the woman on the other end of the line.
His phone screen brightened, indicating I now had access. I placed his now-relaxed hand on the desk and, without thinking, patted the top of it. I walked out, pulling the door behind me, daring to glance over my shoulder. I met his gaze, the piercing blue not as angry. Instead, he almost looked grateful.
Then he began to argue with his mother again, and the fury was back.
I shut the door behind me and went to work.
I knocked, waiting for the master to bid me to enter. I walked in and was met with a steely glare. “Where have you been? I called you twice.”
“I was getting things done.”
He looked at the tray in my hand. “What is that?”
I set it on the desk. “Your lunch.”
He watched as I slid the tray containing a turkey sandwich with a side of pickles and a fresh, steaming cup of coffee onto the side of the desk. “How did you know?”
“I told you I’m good.”
He indicated the coffee. “You figured out my lunch, yet again, you brought me the foamy coffee.”
“Which you drank this morning and enjoyed. You can have black next time.” I reached into the bag I was carrying and brought out a small device, looking around for a plug.
“Ah, there’s one,” I said, dropping to my knees and crawling under the front of the desk.
He pushed his chair back, crouching by my side. “What the hell are you doing down there on your knees?” he hissed.
I tried not to laugh. “Plugging this in. If you’d turn on your flashlight, it would make it faster.”
He mumbled something under his breath but pulled his phone from his pocket and did as I requested. I fumbled, not happy when I realized the plug was partially covered, but I saw another one farther in. “Aim it that way,” I instructed, tugging on his arm. He leaned closer, pushing me into the wood, and I had to wiggle to get my arm over to the right spot. It was a tight fit, but I got the plug in and was about to back out when a voice spoke.
“Alexander, I was…”
There was a pause.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Mr. Bane jumped, hitting his head and cursing. He stood, sputtering. “No. Myers was messing around. I mean?—”
I pulled myself out from under the desk and stood. “We were trying to find the right hole. It was tight.”
The woman in the doorway didn’t know where to look. I recognized her from HR this morning, but I didn’t remember her name.
“For the plug,” I added, holding up my purchase. “For the coffee warmer I bought.” I headed her way, my hand out. “I’m Magnolia Myers.”
“Jessica Aldridge.” She bit her lip, trying not to grin. “I was bringing Alexander some papers.”
I looked over my shoulder. Mr. Bane was standing, not speaking. I had a feeling he was in shock. “I can take them. He needs to sign them?”
“Yes. Review and sign.”
“I’ll drop them off as soon as he’s had his lunch.”
“Good.” She looked between Mr. Bane and me, then started to chuckle. “Good luck.”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
I could hear her laughing all the way down the hall.
I turned back to Mr. Bane. “You should eat.”
He blinked at me. “I can’t believe HR…you…me…under the desk.”
“It’s all good,” I assured him. “Now, I noticed your coffee got cold twice this morning. I got you this,” I explained as I connected the small device, turned it on, and set his coffee mug on it. “You put your cup on it like that, and it will keep it warm.”
He sat down, glancing at it. “Fine.”
I picked up my notebook. “Your calendar is synced. Check it out, see if there is anything you want changed.”
He took a bite of his sandwich, chewing. He looked at his phone, scrolling through the screens. He nodded, then swallowed. “Fine.”
“I’m going to work on the files now. They’re a disaster.”
I got another nod.
“And you don’t have to worry about your mother getting through to you anymore.”
That made him pause. “Why?”
“I had your direct line transferred to my desk. All calls will come to me, except your partners and HR. Rylee helped me when she was here, so I knew who to ask. You have an internal extension now that I will transfer everyone else to. When your mother calls, I’ll tell her you are unavailable and send her directly to voice mail.”
He stared at me. Looked down. Blinked. “Fine.”
I stood. “Now I’m going to eat my sandwich.”
“Fine.”
I scribbled a note.
“What are you writing?”
“To remind myself to get you a thesaurus. Or I could make you a list. Fine is sufficient, but there are other words—for instance, thank you or great job. They sound so much nicer than fine.”
He scowled at me. “Do your job.”
I smiled. “Fine.”
At the door, I paused. “See how boring a word it is? I could have said, ‘Right away, sir,’ or ‘Aye-aye, Captain,’ but I substituted ‘Fine.’ It doesn’t have the same ring, does it?”
I glanced over my shoulder, certain Mr. Bane was fighting a grin. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I was almost positive I saw his lips quirk.
I sat down at my desk, looking over my list of things to do.
I took a bite of my sandwich, looking at the scribbled notes I had found stuffed into desk drawers. One piece of paper noted my new boss’s lunch preferences, which had helped me this morning. Turkey, ham, roast beef. All made the same way, on seeded bread with mayo and mustard. Pickles on the side. The name of the deli where the sandwiches were ordered that had his credit card on file. The underlined note on the bottom made me grin.
No later than 12 or else he gets grumpy.
I tried not to laugh. He was always grumpy. I could only imagine his foul temper if he became hangry.
His list of likes reminded me of my father. He ate a sandwich every day, and those were his top three. Along with egg or tuna salad. I always brought him sandwiches when I went to visit on Wednesdays and Sundays. I left enough for him to have one every day as he said I made the best sandwiches ever.
An idea formed, and I made myself another list. I was going to be so valuable to Mr. Bane, he would never let me go. I’d make sure of it.