Mr. Always (Kings of Boston #4)

Prologue

The espresso machine whirls to life as people talk and music plays in the background. The coffee shop is packed with everyone on their way to work. While usually I take this time to people-watch, I can’t help but fret today.

I need this job.

On paper, I’m a shoo-in. I have all the right training and experience. On paper, I am perfect, but that doesn’t mean anything. Not in the world of being a personal assistant. It doesn’t matter how good I am. If my boss and I don’t get along, I’m screwed.

Which is the position I find myself in now. I hate my current boss. He’s always running behind on projects due to his lack of time management skills and blames it on me. If that isn’t bad enough, he has me order gifts for his side pieces and his wife at the same time.

I just can’t keep doing it.

If I get this job, I’m going to write his wife an anonymous note and give her all the proof she needs to divorce his ass and take him for all he’s worth.

I just need to get this job first.

A steam wand hisses to life as a barista calls out someone’s order. A man bumps into me from behind.

“Sorry,” the man murmurs.

I look over my shoulder at him, and my breath catches.

His dark hair is short on the sides but messy on top. He’s got on a suit, looking the part of a businessman, but his tie is askew. His eyes are brown with hints of gold and scream kindness.

If you looked up my type in the dictionary, his picture would be front and center.

“Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you when I bumped into you, did I?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I murmur, not able to take my eyes off of him.

He tilts his head to the side and studies me. “Are you sure? You look a little stressed.”

It’s the crooked grin that has my lips loosening.

Maybe if I speak my worries out loud, they will fade away.

“Actually, I’m so far from okay, it’s not even funny,” I blurt out, my nerves over this morning getting the better of me.

Before he can say anything, I spill my guts out to him. I tell him how I’m on my way to an interview. How I hate my current boss and how horrible he is. I tell him everything.

“So you see, I really need this job. I need to nail this interview like my life depends on it.” My eyes widen. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I just told you all of that. I am so, so sorry.”

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t laugh at me.

He steps forward so he’s next to me and gives me his full attention.

“Are you qualified for the job you are going for?” he asks.

“One hundred percent. I worked as an assistant all through high school and college. After I got my degree in business management, I moved on to a bigger company. I got my foot in the door and hoped it would lead to a management position, but when the man I worked for retired, there was nowhere for me to go since they eliminated the position, so I had to start all over. That’s how I ended up with this job. ”

“The one you hate,” he muses.

“Yes,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush.

“What makes you want to work for the company that you are applying for?” he asks.

For a moment, I contemplate telling him the name of the company, but choose not to. He’s a stranger, but he doesn’t need to know where I might end up working. That would be going a bit too far even if part of me hopes that if I got the job, he might come looking for me.

“I did a quick Google search, and not a single negative thing popped up. The company has a solid reputation. The listing also said that there would be a possibility of travel from time to time, which sounds fantastic. I love Boston, but sometimes it’s nice to get out and explore for a day or two.”

He smiles then. “Even better when it’s not on your own dime.”

I laugh as I nod. “Exactly. Plus there are places all over the world with this company, so that means more room for advancement. I don’t want to be an assistant forever.”

We walk up to the counter to order our drinks. I’m pleasantly surprised when the man offers to pay for mine.

“A good luck coffee,” he tells me.

I accept it, my cheeks warming.

After we step to the side, he continues our conversation from before.

“Did you look up who you could be working for?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No. I thought about it but decided not to. I figured I would save myself some time and not focus on that until I know more. If I get hired, though, I’ll do a deep dive then.”

He shakes his head. “You’re brave. I don’t know if I could do that.”

“I’m sure you could. You look like a guy who doesn’t like to waste time,” I tease.

His eyes darken, but before he can say anything, a barista yells my name.

“Iris!”

“That’s me,” I tell him as I point over my shoulder.

“Beautiful name,” he whispers.

“Thank you, and thank you for letting me spill my guts to you,” I tell him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me my name?”

“No, I’d rather remember you as the coffee shop guy,” I say, making him smirk. “If I’m meant to know it, we will meet again. I have faith.”

He smiles and nods.

I leave him and grab my coffee.

As I pass by him, he says, “I hope you get the job, Iris.”

“Thanks.” I flash him a smile as I leave.

As I walk down the street, I replay the encounter in my head and groan. I had a hot dude in front of me, and instead of flirting with him, I told him all about my employment troubles.

Only I would do that type of shit.

My best friend Bethanie is going to get a kick out of this when I talk to her later.

I glance at my watch and see that I still have more than thirty minutes before my interview time, so I take a stroll through the park to waste some time. The last thing I want is them thinking I’m overeager.

Fifteen minutes later, I walk into The Williamson Hotel.

“Welcome to The Williamson, Miss,” the doorman greets.

“Thank you.” I smile kindly at him.

I head over to the front desk and tell her I’m here for an interview. A few minutes later, a security guard leads me to the back of the hotel and up an elevator that leads to the offices.

A woman sits at a desk near the elevators and looks up as I get off.

“Hello, you must be Iris Howard.”

“I am.” I smile warmly.

“Awesome. If you will have a seat, Mr. Williamson will be with you shortly.” She smiles up at me as well.

“Thank you.”

As I walk over to sit down, my legs shake.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

Mr. Williamson? I’m interviewing to work for the head of the company?

Before I can work myself up too much, an older woman calls my name.

“Iris.”

I get up and approach her. “Hello,” I tell her softly as she eyes me.

“Before I take you back, I want to make sure you know this position is for a job, not a love connection, yes?” She gives me a stern look.

I tip my chin and fight back a smile. “Understood. I have no interest in love. I want to build my career. This is the best place for me to do that.”

She hums and spins on her heel. I follow behind her, and she leads me down a hall. She knocks on a door once as I come to a stop next to her.

“Come in,” a muffled voice says from the other side.

She opens the door and steps to the side. When I step forward, I freeze.

It’s him. The hot guy from the coffee shop.

How in the hell is this real life?

“It’s you,” he says, eyes wide.

“It’s you,” I repeat.

“You’re hired,” he says without hesitation.

For a split second, I contemplate turning down the offer, but that would be stupid. This is my dream job. I have to take it, even if my boss is attractive.

I can keep my hands to myself. I’m a grown woman.

“When should I start?”