Chapter 2 Paya
FORTY-SEVEN DAYS EARLIER
I’ve always been a good liar, except when it comes to Celeste Ashford. She’s the boss from hell on Monday mornings, but she looks like heaven to me. Which is only mildly irritating since I have to lie to her face in sixty seconds. And I didn’t wear this red dress to hear no.
Showtime, Paya.
After hearing the okay to enter, I step into Celeste’s office and close the door. At least she’s sitting down now.
At her desk, her gaze snaps up to meet mine. “You’re late.”
“Am I?” I fire back with an innocent tone.
I tilt my head with a grin. Flirting is a part of the plan, not because I can’t help myself.
Another lie. I raise the to-go cup and brown bag.
Something I know she won’t refuse. Her favorite: café con leche and cardamom churros. “Good thing I came prepared, then.”
When her attention returns to her computer screen without response, I promptly glance at the mirror hanging on the wall and wait. I watch her mouth curl into a half smile. This little game we play is the real reason I haven’t quit being Celeste Ashford’s executive assistant.
I stroll toward her desk and search for a vacant spot to deposit the food, but the organized chaos of stacked papers, magazine cover mock-ups, sticky notes, and the horror of me spilling liquid all over them makes me think twice. That’s one way to get the time off I need.
Whatever she’s working on must be urgent based on how tightly knitted her brows are.
I catch myself staring, captivated by the scent of teakwood and bourbon vanilla from her perfume filling the space between us.
She looks as irresistible as she smells.
Devastatingly dapper, her quiet confidence commands respect in every room.
When she leans forward, the morning light illuminates her dark amber complexion.
My sight dances up and down her toned frame.
With a body like that, she belongs on our magazine cover, not just running the company.
I recall my first week on the job. Dess, the security guard who’s worked here since the building opened, pulled me aside. “All the other assistants quit within three months,” she said, like she’d placed a bet on how long I’d last. “Celeste Ashford is a tough nut to crack.”
Luckily for me, there are two things I love in this world: A challenge, and a hot masculine woman in a business suit.
Nine months later, I’m still here and Dess and I have a special handshake.
Every Monday, without fail, I show up with coffee and churros.
And every Monday, Celeste pretends not to care. It’s fine. I know she does.
Remembering I’m on a deadline, my mind jumps back to the task at hand. I clear my throat. “Ms. Ashford?”
She finally looks up, but not directly at me, only grabs the coffee from my hands.
Her fingers brush mine for a fleeting moment I try not to think about.
She mumbles a barely audible thank you, then she’s engrossed in her screen again after transferring two empty paper cups to the trash bin to make room on her desk.
I learned pretty early on that Celeste is not one for small talk, but I try anyway. “How are you this morning? Is everything okay?”
“No. But it will be better once I have a conversation with Jill.” She shakes her head, seemingly exasperated. “Can you set a meeting up for today when you leave here?”
I nod. “Of course.”
A few clicks of her mouse later, she rubs her temples and straightens in her chair. “You now have my full attention.”
I’ve worked for her long enough to know that’s not true, but I embrace the spotlight.
I take a moment to gather composure, lower into the leather chair across from her, and cross one leg over the other, ignoring the hem of my dress inching higher.
Her eyes flicker downward before snapping back up.
Not quick enough to go unnoticed. I bite back my smile.
“You’re not making this easy for me.” Her low tone catches me off guard.
Heat floods my cheeks. I guess my dress hasn’t lost its touch after all.
“You know I can’t resist the cardamom ones. Thank you,” she continues, taking a bite from a churro. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as a taunting, satisfied sound falls from her perfect mouth.
A devious response slips out before I catch myself. “I didn’t think you liked things easy. Guilty pleasures and all.”
She pauses and our eyes hold. “You’d be surprised what I like, Paya.”
My pulse quickens. Hearing her say my name in that particular tone does something to my brain.
Chatter from the hallway shatters whatever fantasy I’m experiencing of my boss and I flirting.
I really should start the lifetime warranty process for my favorite vibrator. Damn thing broke sixteen days ago.
“I just wanted to follow up on my PTO request and I’ll be out of your hair,” I say, back to business. “I know you’re swamped, but did you have a chance to look at my email?”
“Right. Your email.” She unlocks her computer. “Could you remind me how much time you need, exactly?”
My mouth goes dry. “Two…and a half weeks.” I’ll figure out an excuse for the rest later. Assuming I last on the show long enough.
“Really taking advantage of the unlimited PTO, huh?” The way she’s looking at me right now tells me requesting three weeks would have gotten me fired.
“My grandmother isn’t doing so well, and I actually like this family member.” A contemplative noise leaves her mouth, not the chuckle I was hoping for.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Which dates do you need?” A chime sound steals her attention. She’s peering at her monitor again, typing at record speed.
At this rate, I’m never going to make the deadline.
I wouldn’t be in this mess if I would’ve responded to the last three emails.
This is my last resort to get back into acting and I don’t want to squander the opportunity I’ve been given.
What if she changes her mind and denies my PTO request?
I shift in my seat, toying with my fingers.
Grandma GG’s voice from her pep talk echoes in my mind.
Don’t overshare. There’s confidence in stillness.
Say what you need and be quiet. Don’t talk too much. Don’t talk too much. Don’t talk—
“Before Grandma GG got sick, she was having a difficult time after her partner passed, so I would come over to help around the house and we’d have game nights.
We got a lot closer when I moved here after my breakup.
” A nervous chuckle slips from my lips. “Don’t get me started on dating in Charlotte in your thirties.
My ex was a musician from LA. She had groupies.
Apparently, everyone is poly now. Anyway, my grandmother hates losing more than I do, and that’s saying something. ”
More words tumble out before I can halt this train wreck.
“On second thought, if you need me for the launch, perhaps I can work remotely.” Jesus fucking Christ. I can’t work remotely while participating on a survival reality TV show.
This is a disaster. Stop talking. “Actually, I don’t know when I’ll be available to check emails, so maybe that’s not ideal. ”
“Paya.”
To my despair, I dig myself deeper into a web of talking too damn much.
“We never know when it’s the end, you know?
Then again, maybe she’ll miraculously improve from being bedridden.
With modern day medicine, anything’s possible.
” I swallow my last shred of self-respect and stare out the window.
“This opportunity—I mean, she is important to me.”
“Paya.” Celeste repeats my name once again, then I face her. “No explanation is needed. I simply asked for the dates.”
“Oh. Sorry. Of course.” I fumble with my phone in my lap and mutter a response. Staring at the calendar, I can’t believe I leave for the island in a week. “I don’t want any regrets in this lifetime,” I add, my voice small.
That part’s true. And technically Grandma GG is important to me, but she’s also in pristine health for a woman in her eighties. Why did I let that old bat talk me into this? I’m going to hell. I pull myself together. At least Celeste appears distracted enough today.
One thing I’ve learned from Grandma GG is that you seize every opportunity that terrifies you.
The producer said this “secret role” would put me back on the map in a big way.
Whatever that means. All I know is it’s my shot at redemption for my acting career that was stolen from me, and I’m taking it.
I don’t know how much time has passed since sitting here, but I don’t plan on sticking around for Celeste to change her mind. I stand and face the door, then locate my draft email confirming my attendance. I press send. Done.
“Paya.” Celeste’s serious tone halts my footsteps.
I turn back, heart thudding in my chest. “Yes?”
Her eyes meet mine, piercing, almost cautious. She studies me for a moment. “I don’t say this often, but I trust you. I’m glad you're here.” She leans back in her chair slightly. “Don’t screw me over.”
The air in the room shifts. My stomach twists with guilt. Too late. Despite the knot forming in my throat, I manage a tight nod and smile. “Understood.”