Always in My Heart (All For You Charity Anthologies #3)

One

I peek through the glass paned door to see my assistant’s desk is empty. She should have been here twenty minutes ago.

I, on the other hand, have been here since the break of dawn this beautiful Monday morning.

Our deadline is approaching and I seem to be the only person who gives a damn.

Being the Editor of a high society magazine is hard work.

Yes, I expect a lot from my employees, but they should love their jobs enough to make every page perfect.

“I’m sorry, but I need to finish going over this spread before our staff meeting.”

“Megan, that wasn’t a request. I need to see you in my office, now.”

He hangs up and with my head held high I exit my office and strut toward the elevators that open up to my floor—the executive floor.

Richard is the only one who’s one floor higher.

Even though I run this magazine, deciding every single detail from what goes on each spread, to what color font to use on the cover, Richard answers to the board and handles the business side of the magazine.

As the elevator doors open, Tanya, our Sections Editor, comes into view. She nods her head and steps to the side before sliding past me as she says, “Good morning, Megan.”

I nod curtly. “Morning.”

I enter the elevator, chalking her early arrival in the back of my head for when her review comes up.

I may be tough, but I’m always fair. They know if they keep their head down, do their job and do it well, they will be rewarded.

Step out of line just once and your fall will come down hard and swift.

Some people call me a bitch. I’m not. I’m a businesswoman.

I take my job very seriously. If I were a man no one would question my authority, but because I’m a woman, I get judged.

I don’t care. The end product speaks for itself.

The magazine has doubled in subscriptions since I’ve taken over and advertising dollars are rolling in.

When I get to Richard’s office his door is propped open. “Come in, Megan,” he announces.

“Good morning,” I say with a pleasant smile. “Do we have the final numbers for this issue?”

“Sit down.” He points to the chair in front of him.

He stands and comes around his desk. I hate the power role he tries to play. He wants me to sit so he’ll be taller than me. Two can play at that game.

I walk to his desk and lean against the dark oak wood crossing my arms over my chest. If he wants to play the power game then bring it on. I have the body and the breasts to silence any man trying to take advantage of me.

With my cleavage pushed together, my silk shirt falls loosely between the curves of each breast, and I know his attention will go straight there.

I cross my ankles making my pencil skirt hug my thighs all the way down my tone legs that look even leaner in my four-inch stilettos.

The expression I’m wearing would bring any man to his knees if I were here for any other reason than some kind of discipline.

“What can I do for you?” I ask.

He closes his eyes, changing his mind on coming to my side of the desk and takes his seat back where he belongs.

“Your assistant quit. Again,” he states matter-of-factly as he plops his slightly overweight frame in his leather-backed chair.

I walk to the window that looks out at the San Francisco skyline without a care in the world. “She was awful. I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did.”

He turns his chair to face me. “That’s the third girl this month.”

“So get me another.”

“I have to report staffing changes to the board, and they’re getting worried about the amount of assistants you’ve had. You’re creating quite a name for yourself. They don’t want news spreading that may shed you in an unflattering manner.”

I turn to him and raise my chin. “I’m judged by my work, not by the number of assistants your Human Resources team isn’t hiring correctly.

It’s not my fault these women can’t stand to be in the fire.

This is a national magazine, not some community rag.

If these women want to work here, they need to do the job correctly. ”

“Yes, but correctly and your way of running things seem to clash. They’re concerned an employee could sue us with the way they all quit so fast. They’re questioning how you treat them.”

“Don’t insult me. You know I treat my employees just fine. Yes, I’m stern but I’m also fair. I run a no bullshit production team, and I’ve made this magazine millions because of it.”

“Yes, millions that can be taken away with one good lawyer who claims you made it a hostile working environment. Get the right lawyer against you and no one will care what your numbers look like. Do you want your name run through the mud like that?”

I step toward him, not caring one bit that he’s my boss or taller than me. “Hostile working environment? How dare you make such a claim!”

“I’m not making the claim.” He stands slowly, seemingly to try to calm me down. “But with five assistants quitting after only four months the board is starting to wonder.”

“Then fire someone from HR. Obviously they aren’t making sure these girls are qualified.”

He places his hands on my arms and I pause, questioning why he’s touching me as he levels his eyes with mine. “I’m telling you this needs to stop. This next assistant has to work or the board will have major discussions on how to move forward with your employment.”

I brush his hands off of me as my heart races. I can’t believe they would even consider letting me go over something so trivial.

“Don’t threaten me,” I state firmly trying to hide the emotions running through me.

“It’s not a threat. It’s a warning. You and I have our differences, but overall you’ve been good for this company. I don’t want to see that happen, so this is me, telling you, enough is enough.”

I take a breath, trying to hide the anger racing through me. “Then I get to pick her.”

“Him,” he corrects me.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, him. I’ve already hired your next assistant personally. He’ll be here any second.”

Just then there’s a knock on the door. We both turn to see a man standing in the threshold.

He’s dressed in gray slacks and a bright blue button-up that’s tucked in and rolled up to his elbows.

His jaw is straight and his eyes are dark.

My stomach flips at how attractive he is, especially after I think back to how long it’s been since I’ve dated anyone.

“Logan Fisher, I presume,” Richard says.

Logan reaches out his hand. “Thank you for the opportunity.” He turns to me. “Wow, Megan Reynolds. I’ve read so much about you,” he says with a slight southern accent.

He strides toward me and I drop my arms to my side. I only try to seduce to get my way with the men above me, not below me. “Nice to meet you. Now, please, follow me.”

“Play nice,” Richard says to me with a pointed glare as I exit his office, but I pay him no attention.

I press the elevator button and feel Logan’s presence behind me. The doors open and we both enter. I reach to push the eleventh floor, but he gets there first.

“Allow me,” he says in a smooth voice.

I turn to him. “Let’s get this straight. I’m your boss. I like things done in a very particular way and I can press my own button”—I raise my eyebrows at him—“you got me?”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, I’m a southern gentleman. My momma raised me to always treat a lady with respect. As your assistant, I’m here to help you, including pressing a button if it needs to be pressed.”

His eyes never waver from mine as a smirk grows on his face. The doors open and I exit without another word.

“This is where you’ll sit.” I point to the desk outside my door as we walk by and enter my office. “If the phone rings, you pick it up promptly. No one gets to speak to me unless you have my permission first.” I turn to face him. “You do know how to work the phone system, don’t you?”

His lips quirk up to one side then he nods. “Yes, ma’am, there are many systems I can run, the phone being the easiest of them all.”

“Please stop calling me ma’am. This is San Francisco, not Georgia.”

“Shall I salute you then, like in the army? Is that how it’s done here in the big bad city?” his words flow off his tongue without a second thought.

I stare into his eyes. “I will not be disrespected in this office, am I making myself clear?”

He swallows hard and stands up a little taller. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you, Megan,” he says like he’s making a point not to say ma’am. “Quite opposite, really. I’m here to help you. I was just trying to lighten the mood as you seemed awfully uptight.”

“Uptight?” I pause, hearing Richard’s words in my head about losing another assistant.

“Sorry to let you down, but this is a place of business. The mood does not need to be lightened.” I walk around to my desk and take a seat.

“That will be all. Your duties are on your computer. I’m sure security gave you your passwords, correct? ”

“Yes, ma’— Megan,” he corrects himself. “I’ll be out here if you need anything.”