8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
She couldn’t believe she was actually here. Standing in the middle of the lobby, Golden stared down at the compass-like design the gold tiles made on the shining white floor. Last Friday, she got an email confirming she got the job at Rosebank Publishing. She spent the whole weekend in a state of shock as she practically went to every store in Stardust County piecing together a small but tasteful professional wardrobe. And now here she was at her new job on her first day of work.
The sound of heels hitting the tile pulled Golden from her thoughts and she turned to see Malinda coming toward her with a big welcoming smile. "Golden, welcome. I'm so happy to see you."
Golden greeted the woman and followed her along as she introduced her to everyone they passed as they made their way through the building, stopping on each floor to greet people. Golden said hi to reception, three different security officers on their various rounds, and countless junior editors until they finally stopped the tour on the fourth floor.
At first, Golden didn't really think of where she was, she was busy making small talk with a few people on the sales team when she turned and saw the big double doors at the end of the hallway. Panic fluttered in her chest while her stomach suddenly felt like wet cement. Those were the doors to his office. A memory of her and Gaige coming up here once after hours abruptly came back to her.
"Okay, and last but not least let me introduce you to Mr. Rosebank himself," Malinda announced as she spun on her heel in the direction of the ominous double doors.
Golden's pulse quickened with apprehension. "Umm, well, I actually know Mr. Rosebank…" she offered hesitantly, hoping to stymie this meet-greet. At Malinda's confused smile, Golden hurriedly explained. "Gaige, his son, is my best friend and I know Mr. Rosebank."
Understanding lit Malinda's eyes. "Oh, okay. Then that makes sense, I suppose. That must be why Mr. Rosebank moved your position from downstairs to up here with him," she said, and continued walking ahead.
Helpless, Golden couldn't do anything but follow as they made their way past the large secretary's desk, which seemed to guard the two towering doors. As Malinda knocked, Golden replayed the woman's words.
"Wait, what?! What do you mean moved my position?" Golden frantically whispered as they stepped into the large office.
Golden and Malinda entered the office. Large did not quite do the expansive space justice. Wide windows covering one wall framed the panoramic views of downtown Stardust Heights. Amidst the sleek, modern furniture, the subtle art deco touches from throughout the building graced this space as well. From the geometric patterns adorning the glass partitions to the sleek line accents embedded into the built-in bookshelves it all infused the room with an air of quiet sophistication.
Golden let out a small sigh of relief when she realized the office was empty. Desperate to get things resolved, she turned to Malinda with a nervous smile, silently prodding her to explain.
Confused, Malinda tried to clarify. "Actually, I got a memo early this morning from Mr. Rosebank about the change. You will be working with him directly."
If Golden was the type of woman prone to fainting, she would have done so then and there. Instead, her stomach just churned with anxiety. "But I thought I would get to-"
Malinda's phone dinged and she looked at the screen with a twist of her mouth. "Oh, I really need to go meet the supplier, he's downstairs waiting for me," she sighed. "Just wait in here and Mr. Rosebank will be in shortly. Don't be nervous, you said you met him before so you know he is fine. And welcome again to Rosebank Publishing, we're happy to have you."
Malinda gave her a brief hug and slipped back out through the door leaving Golden in shock and frozen to the spot.
He is fine. She repeated the woman's words in her head. It didn't matter if he was fine, she was not! Golden could hear her heart beating in the eerie silence of the office. What was she going to do? Any minute he would be here. Grayson Rosebank, the man she loved with her entire soul for four straight years, actively repressed for two years, and not to mention the man she made a fool of herself in front of and the man who let her down the most. It was too much.
No. Golden shook her head. She couldn't do this. "I will just tell her I can't-"
The door opened just as she reached out for it and Grayson stepped inside.
It felt like a beautiful rose vine crawling over her skin and encircling her as she beheld him. Yes, there was the satiny finish of the rose but it couldn't take away from the pain of the thorns.
He was powerfully made. Tall and strong, the years of swimming and training made his shoulders impossibly broad. There was a cloak of power and privilege to the man. But not in the annoying way most noted billionaires behaved. No, Grayson Rosebank was the epitome of silent wealth. His presence demanded attention and respect. Maybe even a touch of fear. It was hard to take a silent man's measure. Hard to know what he would and would not do if he rarely broadcasted his movements. Everything about Grayson Rosebank was cool, measured discipline. It was carved into the strong cut of his jaw and the commanding way he carried himself. He was a man to watch out for and a man currently looking directly at her.
His handsome face which she had dreamed about far too much, softened as their gazes met. "Hello, Golden."
The sudden captivation was second nature at this point. The urge to sigh dreamily up at his beautiful face was like muscle memory, instinctual and pointless to fight. But deep down underneath her undying affection for the man she couldn’t help but recall the day he let her down when she needed him most, when she had come home early one morning to find her aunt’s still body in her chair.
Stunned and shaken, she had dialed Grayson's number, instinctively turning to the man she knew could help her.
"Mr. Rosebank I…I…need to talk to you-"
She would never forget Grayson's deep almost cold-sounding voice as he cut her off . "Golden, I can't speak right now, I'm getting on a plane. I have to go. I'm sure Gaige can talk to you about whatever it is."
It had been so unlike him, so distant. But she knew why, she thought bitterly even now as she unwillingly recalled that day. He had been disappointed in her because of what happened the night before, she was sure of that.
Blinking, Golden forced herself back to the present, stepped back, and glared at him. "What's going on? Why am I up here?"
Grayson's eyes scanned her, and Golden felt a small shudder pass through her. His devastating blue eyes took in her emerald green wide-leg pants and white button-up blouse. She hated herself for the satisfaction she felt for picking the outfit. She looked good in it. The tucked-in shirt with the high-waisted pants accentuated her curves while also lengthening her legs. Resisting the urge to raise her hand and check the short curls framing her face, she maintained her determined stare at the handsome bastard.
Unfazed by her accusing look, Grayson smirked and walked over to the seating area in front of his desk and sat down in one of the chairs. "You're being reassigned. I want you to work with me as my assistant."
"What? No." She shook her head, rebuking his words. "I'm supposed to be working as a production assistant in the basement."
The corner of his mouth quirked. "You mean far from me."
Golden looked away from him as she answered. It was like staring at the sun, she couldn't look at him for too long or it hurt something deep inside of her she thought she pushed away years ago. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."
"Golden-" he began, his velvety voice rich with patience.
"No, this was not what I agreed to." She held up her hands. She wanted to stamp her feet. She couldn't believe she was already seeing him like this. She wasn't ready, dammit. Not now, maybe not ever. If she was working in the basement, like she had been promised, this wouldn't be happening.
His mouth tightened as he stared back at her and the subtle movement made her feel a little weak. Golden was only ever used to Grayson's calm composure. Not once had she ever seen the man truly angry. With an unwavering calmness, his expression was always reserved, rarely betraying any emotion beyond the dignified mask he wore. But this one minuscule twitch of a muscle in his jaw silently commanded her compliance.
Slowly, she sat down in the chair across from him despite every instinct in her body telling her just to abandon the job and run back home.
The muscle in his jaw relaxed as she sat down and he gave her a considering look. "You ignored me for two years. I understand, I wasn't there when you needed me. I can't undo that, but I hoped we could at least try and go back to the way it was before that," he continued gently. "I know you've always been my son's friend, but I like to think you and I were friends, too."
Guilt lanced through her with longing. Did he not know how much her decision to distance herself from him hurt her? She had loved him. She had seen him multiple times a week for four years straight. There had been countless times in New York she laid in bed crying over the loss of their friendship. She desperately wanted him back in her life. But how could she ever forget what happened that day?
Golden cleared her throat. "We were friends…until…"
"Say it," Grayson lifted his chin and looked down at her, a challenge glinting in his clear blue eyes, daring her to put it all on the table. "Until what?"
"No." She shook her head and got up. "I don’t want to do this." Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest. This was not what she had planned for the day. She was just supposed to start a boring little job as a production assistant, not rake up the past and its painful memories.
"Golden," her name sounded like a lash of a whip cracking in the air, commanding her body to stop moving.
Angry at herself and shocked at his gall, she spun around on her new wedges and glared at him with tears shimmering in her eyes. "We were friends until you left me alone!" she yelled at him. "You turned me away when I really needed you." All because I made a stupid mistake that night , she thought.
She hadn't even taken two steps back before he was standing in front of her grasping her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I would do anything to go back to that day and fix it all, but I can't. I'm sorry for letting you down when you needed me most."
As his warm hands gently enveloped her shoulders, Golden felt a surge of solace seep through her, like sunlight thawing frost. And she couldn't fight it anymore. She buried her face against his broad chest, letting the tears she had been fighting spill freely in quiet sobs. In response, Grayson pulled her closer, his arms strong and reassuring, forming a fortress around her, shielding her from the outside world. The steady heartbeat beneath her face served as a comforting lull in the storm of her emotions.
For minutes, they just stood like that until her tears finally subsided. Being in his arms felt so good, she wasn't sure how she managed to pull back.
Wiping her face, Golden looked away embarrassed and more than a little angry at herself. "I still don't think I should work here," she mumbled.
Grayson didn't move away; she could feel his gaze burning into the side of her face. "And I still disagree," replied calmly.
Exasperated, she ran a careful hand over her short curls to make sure they were still in place before pacing across the large office to stop at his desk. She desperately searched for a reason to leave that he would listen to.
"I don't want to take someone's job who would be more qualified for a position like this. Besides," she smirked in growing triumph as the argument solidified in her mind. "If I work directly for you, it would be blatant nepotism!" she pointed out. Surely, she had him there.
"It would," Grayson agreed, with not an ounce of shame. He walked around his desk and sat calmly in his chair. "I can assure you, however, that you wouldn't be taking anyone's job nor should anyone feel slighted. Every single employee gets paid well for their position and knows exactly what is required to move to another position. Besides, your job at my side didn't exist until today."
How could he be this stubborn?! "But that just proves my point. People will think-"
Grayson regarded her with a thoughtful expression. "When did you start caring what people think?"
The question hit her like an arrow finding its mark. Memories of just a few months ago flooded her mind. The snide comments, the whispers, the sharp glances from teachers whenever she slipped up in rehearsal—all these haunted her. Two years at Juilliard had forced her to care.
Pushing all of that back down deep inside of her, Golden let out a humorless laugh. "You're right. A nasty little habit I picked up lately."
Grayson looked at her as if he wanted to say more on that topic. She was grateful when he didn't.
"And why can’t I work in the basement as a production assistant?" she pressed.
Something passed over his eyes and for the first time Grayson looked away but the moment was fleeting. His expression hardened back into the stoic mask she was used to and he gave her that gentle, friendly smile she had seen far too many times over the years. "Truthfully? Because I want to redeem myself to you. Although I know I can never make up for not being there when you needed me, I want to try. And to be honest, I missed you. For four years, you were like a member of the family and then you were gone. I heard nothing from you for two years and now suddenly you're back. I want to make up for lost time."
She felt the overwhelming urge to cry and rush into his arms, but she held herself back. Golden didn't want to feel that same need for him, that longing for his presence in her life. What if he changed his mind again? Then where would she be? She could only pick herself up off the floor so many times.
Knowing she was losing the battle, she tried once more in a last attempt. "I still don’t think this is a good idea."
Unmoved, Grayson fixed her with a steely look. "I disagree."
This time she stomped her foot in aggravation. "Stop saying that!"
A triumphant grin spread across his lips. "No."
Golden couldn't help but laugh. "Fine," she sighed, throwing her hands in the air in defeat, and turned to go sit in the chair again.
"You will need to unblock me."
The calmly spoken words nearly had her stumbling over the soft carpet. Rolling her lips between her teeth to keep the embarrassment at bay, Golden nodded, avoiding his gaze. Pulling out her phone she quickly found her block file and stared at his contact. Grayson with two pink hearts next to it. Stupid high school self, she thought. She would have to delete those later. She could still vividly remember the day she blocked him, sitting on the plane to New York crying. Now look at her. Golden almost laughed. Her past self would've never imagined this turn of events. Not too long ago she was crying in self-pity on the plane back to Texas. Just how many flights was she going to cry on in her life?
"I don’t even know what being your assistant means," Golden tried another tactic. She had to make this man see reason. She belonged in the basement not at his side. "I never really had a job like this before. I wasn't really qualified for the production assistant job, to be honest. I think I only got it because of Gaige."
Grayson shook his head. "You got the job because I told HR to approve you no matter what. Gaige just sent in your application."
"Okay, first of all, that isn't boosting my confidence at all," she said, her tone deadpan as she stared at him flatly. "And secondly, are you and Gaige working together on this?!"
He didn't even bother lying. "Partially," he admitted with a grin. "And you shouldn’t feel self-conscious. You were studying opera a few months ago; I don't expect you to be a master at this."
Just as it always did, his gentle understanding wrapped in his velvety deep voice wound around her like an embrace. Golden wanted to shiver, to run over to him and hug him and bury her face in his chest for a second time. Looking away from him, she walked over to the windows and stared down at the street below. Mercedes, Jaguars, and other luxury vehicles drove down the street, no doubt coming from the large upscale shopping district up the street.
She was silent for a few more moments before she finally summoned the courage to ask. "Are you going to ask me about Juilliard?" The softly asked question drifted into the air like snow on a dark winter night, silent and ethereal as it lingered.
"Are you ready to talk about it?" Grayson countered gently.
Turning to look at him, she could see the understanding in his eyes and it only made her want to run. She didn't want his pity. She didn't want him to know how she turned tail and ran from the dream college that had turned into a nightmare. "No," she breathed out.
"Then we don't have to talk about it—yet," he added.
"Ever," she corrected him loftily, finding her confidence again. "I'm pretty sure I never want to talk about it."
Grayson nodded, but she could see the spark in his cobalt-blue eyes. "Then let us discuss the position instead."
By the time she got home later that evening, Golden was exhausted. They discussed everything about the job, which was completely different from anything she had in mind. Since Grayson already had an executive assistant, a woman who had been working there for over ten years, Golden's role sounded more like a glorified intern mixed with a Girl Friday role. Surprisingly, however, it wasn't the abrupt assignment change or their discussion of her changing to part-time hours during the fall semester that took up the most time, it was Grayson's demand that she refer to him as Grayson and not Mr. Rosebank as well as his preference to have her picked up and dropped off for work in a private car. For a solid hour, they argued back and forth on the ludicrous proposition. Well, she argued and he coolly denied each of her objections.
"That's fine, if you don't want a car to come pick you up each day, then I can just come and get you myself." His eyes glinted with challenge.
"My God no!" Golden cried in horror, sitting at the edge of her chair. "You cannot do that under any circumstance."
"Why not?" Grayson's brow rose. "Gaige picked you up for school and dropped you off at your house for years."
Sitting on the other side of his desk, she drummed her nails against the wood, beyond irritated at his stubbornness. "But that was different, it's Gaige. It's not my boss and practically the King of Stardust chauffeuring me around.
His gaze narrowed. "You're doing it again."
Golden knew immediately that he was referring to her caring what people think. And while true it was also not applicable. She could not have Grayson Rosebank pick her up and drop her off from work. In no universe would that be okay.
"This is different. You are Grayson Rosebank for goodness sake," she stressed his name, hoping to remind the man just exactly who he was. "Besides, a boss cannot pick up their employee for work, it's just not done. It's that simple, end of discussion."
Grayson laughed softly but the glint of defiance never left his eyes. "By your logic, I run this town so I can technically do what I like."
"Mr. Rosebank," she whined his name, her knee bouncing with frustration.
"Fine. I will let that go, but you will need to refer to me as Grayson," he continued, ignoring her attempt to interrupt with an argument. "You called me Mr. Rosebank for years and then nothing for two years. Now that you're back, I prefer to hear my first name and that's it. Or I will be at your house at eight-thirty sharp tomorrow morning. You choose."
By the time everything was done and she was saying her goodbyes to the other staff, she was forced to accommodate their earlier bargain.
"Bye, Shelia," Golden had waved at a passing editor she met earlier as she walked toward the elevator.
"Bye, I'll see you tomorrow," Sheila said just as her gaze looked past Golden. The woman's eyes brightened and she raised her hand to wave to someone behind Golden. "Goodnight Mr. Rosebank, see you tomorrow."
"Good night, Shelia," the smooth masculine voice sounded from behind Golden.
Sheila held open the elevator door and watched her expectantly as Golden walked forward. Golden winced at the tangible feeling of social expectation in the air. She couldn't just not say anything to the head of the company, in front of other staff no less. Golden forced herself to turn around and meet the waiting blue eyes staring directly at her.
"Good night Mr. Ro-" Her words died on her tongue as Grayson's eyes narrowed dangerously. Letting out a cough, Golden turned and gave Sheila an apologetic smile before stepping back. "You go ahead."
Waiting until the elevator door shut firmly, Golden looked back at Grayson with a scowl and looked around to make sure there wasn't anyone else around. Satisfied, she looked back at him with a tight smile. "Goodnight, Grayson," she whispered his name just in case anyone walked by. "See you tomorrow.
Satisfaction glittered in his eyes. "Goodnight, Golden."
Now as she lay on her bed thinking of the day's events, she realized something. She got outmaneuvered on all accounts. First with Gaige and Grayson teaming up like an evil father and son duo and getting her the job, then with Grayson and his unceremonious use of power, and then with his overwhelming manipulation to get her to use his name.
She was playing checkers against someone who was clearly playing chess.