Chapter 5
KATE
“This is fantastic. Late on the very first day,” I mumble to myself as I dart into the elevator of the high-rise building downtown.
I couldn’t believe my luck on Saturday when I got the request for a phone interview and was hired on the spot as a personal assistant. Apparently, my résumé had everything they were looking for.
It’s warm out, and after taking forever to find a space to park, I’m finally headed up to the fifty-sixth floor. I never did collect my belongings from my previous residence, so I’m wearing one of Mel’s only dresses suitable for an office.
It’s solid black and form-fitting. She bought it for her great-aunt’s funeral three years ago but hasn’t touched it since.
The length is questionable for my long legs, so I’m hoping they aren’t too strict on the dress code at Bradshaw Enterprises.
My fingertips go right past the hem. I’m having high school flashbacks of being forced to measure the length by standing up straight and reaching down.
“Which floor?” a woman with red cat-eye frames and a short, round figure asks me.
“Fifty-six,” I reply.
Several others crowd into the space, and I move toward the woman to make room.
“Oh! Me too. Are you new at BE?”
“Umm, Bradshaw Enterprises? Yes, I start today.”
I form a weak smile as she inspects my attire. I shift on the low heel of Mel’s black pumps, which thankfully fit better than the dress.
“Well, that’s nice. BE is a wonderful place to work.” She extends a hand with talon-shaped red acrylic nails. “I’m Becky. I’m not even surprised Georginne failed to inform me we have a new hire.”
“Kate.”
We shake hands. She smiles at me silently for the rest of the trip up, and I shift on my feet under her gaze.
The doors finally open to the fifty-sixth floor.
“Let me show you to the woman who will train you. I’m the head of human resources, so we’ll get plenty of time to chat later when we do your paperwork.”
I follow her head of short, curly brown hair to a shiny black desk outside of a door with a plaque that says Mr. Bradshaw.
We pass his secretary’s desk, but I’m not introduced to her.
She’s already busy, fielding phone calls.
I’m curious about why a CEO would need a personal assistant and a secretary.
The entire office is polished and luxurious.
I know nothing about the company. I hadn’t even heard of it until Saturday.
We continue down past the secretary’s desk until we arrive at a small desk beside a black door.
People were chatting and walking through the halls, but this section seems to be reserved for the boss man and his PA.
“Georginne is always late. She’ll be training you. Between you and me, honey, I truly don’t know why he hasn’t let her go yet.” Becky smiles at me, a tiny smudge of red lipstick stuck to her teeth.
“Oh, um, that’s fine. I can wait for her.” I stare at her for a second before pointing at my teeth. “You got a little . . . right there.”
She uses her index finger to rub her teeth but only ends up spreading it onto the side of her mouth.
“Oh, you just . . . you should go check in the . . . mirror.”
She laughs. “Okay, I’m off then. See you soon! Don’t forget to share all the details of your first day with me!”
She scurries away, her red-and-white polka-dot blouse making her stand out among the mostly grey and black attire of the employees we passed by.
“Just getting coffee and making copies. That’s all I’ll be doing,” I mumble.
This place feels out of my league.
I set my purse under the desk, opening one of the drawers to inspect the contents. There’s a white Mac desktop computer on top of it and nothing else. I bend down to press the power button.
Footsteps begin clicking toward me. My eyes trail up to see a well-tailored navy Armani suit with a matching tie on a fit, muscular frame. As I stand up straighter, my eyes meet the very familiar gaze of a man I never expected to see again.
We both freeze instantly. The strong jawline is no longer stubbled. He must have shaved it this morning. His ebony hair is smoothed back loosely. The unforgettable, intense pale green eyes burn into mine.
My body shuts down. Am I having a heart attack?
A muscle tics in his jaw as he stares at me, unsmiling. He has a phone pressed up to his ear. After the obvious pause in his steps, he resumes making his way toward the office door of Mr. Bradshaw. It clicks shut a moment later.
My jaw is nearly resting on the top of my desk.
There is no way in hell . . .
Did that man just walk right past me like he didn’t have his face between my legs three nights ago?
I blow out a steadying breath, closing my eyes in hopes that I’ll wake up from this nightmare. What is happening?
“Are you Miss Dawson?” a female voice says, jolting me back to reality.
I turn to face the speaker, an elderly woman in all black. Her expression is pinched as she observes me.
“Yes . . . I’m Kate. Kate Dawson.” My voice is weak.
I walk toward her with wooden steps. The shock of seeing Mr. Bradshaw hasn’t worn off yet.
She takes my outstretched hand in her cold one, her vise grip nearly making me wince.
“I’m Georginne, the chief of staff. I conducted your phone interview.
You’ll be with me part of the day and with Mr. Bradshaw’s secretary, Cheryl, some of the time.
Unfortunately, you’ll also have to spend time with our HR department head, Becky.
” She says Becky’s name like she just ate the last doughnut from the break room.
She seemed nice enough, but it sounds like there’s an office rivalry going on between the HR director and the chief of staff.
I nod in agreement, glad to hear I won’t have to spend time with Mr. Bradshaw.
“Of course, the majority of your day is spent in service to Mr. Bradshaw’s needs.”
My heart drops into my stomach at her words.
“He has various tasks that need to be fulfilled daily. His dry cleaning must be picked up at five p.m. and taken to his penthouse. You will be given a key. He has a small staff for his Dallas residence, but you will be in charge of making sure they get their jobs done correctly and on time. There’s a housekeeper, a chef, a personal shopper, a driver, a—”
“I have to . . . spend the day serving him?” I choke out.
Her stern expression hardens. “Well, yes. You were hired as a personal assistant. His needs and desires are your command. Mr. Bradshaw doesn’t like to be kept waiting for frivolous matters.
Your only responsibility is to ensure that his personal affairs are in order so that he can focus on the empire he runs every day. ”
Great, so I’m a glorified nanny for a prick who pretended like he didn’t recognize me.
Would it have been so hard for him to say, Hey, Kate. Nice to see you again? Or even, What are you doing at my office?
I cannot let this get personal. I need this job to pay for Dad’s care facility.
I form a practiced smile. “Of course. I just wanted to clarify so that I understand exactly what’s expected of me.”
Georginne turns up her nose and begins to lead me toward the CEO’s office door.
“I will introduce you to him now, and he might or might not have some tasks he already needs completed. You are on the payroll for Bradshaw Enterprises, but you’re more his private employee than the company’s.
He owns it, of course, but you understand, the legality of having your own payroll is messier than simply hiring through your corporation. ”
Her eyes travel over my frame once again, and I stand up a tad straighter, tugging on my hem.
“Yes, of course, I understand that. I answer to him.”
“Yes, directly. He’s not afraid to speak his mind. He has a particular way of doing things.”
I nod, not sure what she means by that. My mind immediately jerks me back to Friday night when he had his particular way with me, and I bite my lip at the memory as my cheeks heat.
“I would like to say, for the record, I have never . . . officially met Mr. Bradshaw before today.” My stupid brain word-vomits all over the place. Why can’t I keep my damn mouth shut? I hold my breath as I watch her reaction.
Georginne’s face looks truly astonished. She pats my shoulder, seemingly attempting to comfort me. “Oh, darling, he is quite intimidating. You will be fine if you keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.”
She offers a strained smile before knocking on the door.
“Come in,” I hear him growl from behind the black wood, and my stomach flips.
She opens the door, pushing it back to reveal him reclining against his office chair. A large desk separates us, and there are windows surrounding the spacious office, showcasing the city. The only other furniture in the room is four white leather chairs and a small black sofa.
“Mr. Bradshaw, this is Miss Dawson. She is your new personal assistant.”
His intense gaze has been trained on me since we entered, but his face gives nothing away.
“She is going to spend some time with Cheryl today and will be completing her paperwork with HR. Do you have any specific tasks you’d like her to do for you?”
I wish Georginne would shut up and leave us alone, but I realize that thought is irrational. This man is a stranger. I’ve never seen him before today.
Just keep telling yourself that . . .
He’s watching me with the same stare that I remember so vividly from that night at his penthouse.
My skin is crawling underneath my black dress, and I want nothing more than to replay the time we spent together, forgetting the world and our problems. This man has seen every inch of me, up close and personal.
He finally speaks. “Miss Dawson can take care of the usual duties my PA was assigned today, and when I have something special, I’ll call her in.” His eyes haven’t left me even though he’s talking to his chief of staff.
Georginne glances at me. “Very well, Mr. Bradshaw. You know where to find her. I’ll make sure she’s up to speed on the expectations of her role.”
He nods. “Yes, and please brief her on the rules in the handbook regarding the dress code.”
The burning trail of his eyes over the hem of my dress brings a tinge of pink to my cheeks. His mouth forms a hard line as he observes me from his position of power in the executive chair, and I know I’m at his mercy.
Georginne is mortified. “Yes, sir, absolutely. The issue will be addressed immediately.”
She shuffles me out of the office. “Well, you don’t have any time to go home and change, but I will make sure you are in possession of the handbook for future reference. Mr. Bradshaw will not tolerate repeat offenses. Let’s get up there and see what Cheryl has to show you.”
I want to crawl into a shell and hide for the rest of the day.