6. Sean
6
SEAN
M y frustration with Edith and, more importantly, Gary Chalk was on my mind as I walked out of that room.
If only Gary Chalk had taken care of Chloe.
Taken her along with him to his next venture perhaps.
Or even—and I hated myself for even entertaining the thought—fired her before the acquisition, then I wouldn’t need to sort out this mess.
But all thoughts about Gary disappeared when my gaze stayed on her through the glass window in the wall.
She was sitting by the table again.
She had gotten a haircut in the six weeks since we’d met.
Her hair was short now, and it suited her even more.
She was darn pretty all right.
She had azure-blue eyes, flecked with gold, and a sprinkling of freckles on her nose.
Even those eyes hadn’t dulled in the aftermath of discussing the termination of her employment.
She was surveying the termination papers in front of her with a vulnerable look on her face.
A look that stirred something primal in me.
A damn frustrating desire to protect something or someone.
I shook my head. No, no, no.
I’d had a moment of weakness at the café six weeks ago.
Telling her personal details about my failed relationship and laying bare one of my bigger wounds.
In hindsight, it was more than embarrassing.
I didn’t want a woman at work who had seen me be weak and emotional.
I’d shared personal details with Chloe, things an employee shouldn’t really be privy to, and it couldn’t be a professional relationship when she knew the exact words my ex had said to me.
I threw my shoulders back, reminding myself of how unmoved I’d been at various points in my life.
My first failed business venture, my dad’s death, and my divorce.
I wasn’t one to be swayed by the trivial trembling of a woman’s lips.
I hadn’t been swayed in the past, and I wasn’t about to start now.
Even with lips as red as full-bodied wine.
Mom had taught me emotions were worthless, and it was the only thing I’d learned from her.
I found Edith waiting for me, and aware that her office was just down the hallway, I asked, “Can we step into your office?”
She nodded with obvious reluctance, and hobbling on her broken pump, she led the way.
In a minute, I entered Edith’s office, where she reached for the gym bag in the corner, from which she dug out sneakers.
While she swapped shoes, I looked around.
The rest of her office was decorated simply with a potted azalea on the floor and a single purple orchid on her table.
It was sparse—exactly how I’d encouraged all my employees to keep their offices.
No unnecessary family photographs or memorabilia to distract them.
Edith was a model employee, and I ought to cut her some slack even if she did often—sometimes rightfully—bring up her concerns about my personal life interfering with my professional one.
Like picking up Lucas from his games or school, which was sometimes a last-minute request from Helen.
I’d had to scramble during meetings to call the nanny, delaying our meetings in the process.
Her shoes finally on, she gestured for me to take a seat.
The last time I had been here, I’d brought up a request—reasonable, I was sure—of hiring a company mascot.
I’d wanted a tiger—fierce but loyal—to represent our company, but Edith had quietly fought back on that, citing resource issues, and suggested getting a parrot instead.
Needless to say, I had not appreciated it or given her the go-ahead.
This time, I didn’t wait to let her speak.
“Before we fire Chloe, I wanted to ask you one last time, isn’t there any other job we can find her? Dave Walker, our CFO, I bet he could use an assistant.”
“Blake Jones and Martin Shepherd,” Edith responded with an impassive face.
When I gave her a look of confusion, she explained, “Those are Dave’s current assistants.”
“What about?—”
“She’s got two assistants already,” Edith interrupted.
I frowned and leaned forward, my hands on her desk.
“You don’t know who I was going to ask about.”
“Was it, by any chance, Kelly Townsend, our COO?”
“No—” I began in swift rebuttal even though Edith was right.
Damn it, was I really so predictable?
“Okay, yes, I meant her.”
Edith eyed me carefully.
“You’re the one with only one executive assistant. I’ve been trying to get you to accept an administrative assistant forever.”
“Nope. I already have an assistant, thank you.” I knew Edith’s plan.
The admin assistant would double up as my personal assistant, and I hated letting anyone into the details of my personal life.
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my pants in frustration.
I cursed myself silently.
Why did I have to let this inconsequential, jilted bride change my mind?
“Surely, there has to be someone else who needs an assistant.”
Edith cleared her throat.
“Amelia spoke to me earlier today and told me that she’s been advised bed rest.”
I raised my eyebrows at her.
“Amelia didn’t mention anything to me,” I said, thinking back to our interaction.
Amelia had definitely been hasty with me today.
“She’s expecting a baby, as you know, and she needs to spend the rest of the three months of her pregnancy in bed. She’s reluctant to do so, because she’s worried about her job. I told Amelia that her job is safe?—”
“Damn right it is. She’s good,” I growled.
“And that she can work from home, if needed, as long as she’s comfortable. But we’ll need to hire a temporary assistant to handle things in the office.”
“A temporary assistant?” I asked, hands off the table as I considered this.
“Until Amelia is back,” Edith added with a hopeful look on her face.
My hands balled into fists as I considered that infuriating option.
Chloe would work for me for the next three months and perhaps another three months while Amelia began her maternity leave.
Could I handle seeing Chloe at work?
I’d have to forget about that image of Chloe in her wedding dress for six months if we were to have any sort of professional relationship.
I’d have to stash that image away, only to be retrieved half a year later.
God, I couldn’t handle that.
I liked that image, like a child fixated on a toy that held no sad memories.
I wanted that image to remind me of my one good day.
Most people always held their true selves from me, oftentimes being fake—less often being overly eager to say the appropriate thing and coming off as trying too hard.
But Chloe had been raw, honest, and open, confiding in me.
Back at the café, she’d looked breathtaking, and I had the selfish thought that she shouldn’t be marrying any man.
She ought to be single.
Ten minutes later, voilà.
Only, I didn’t have the heart to ask her for her number, given what her fucked-up fiancé had done to her.
I would find her later, I decided.
Haunt that café perhaps.
Well, I’d haunted it a few times with no luck.
And now, she was here, exactly where I didn’t want her to be.
Employee number 2560.
I wanted her working some job in our basement perhaps.
To not have her out of a job and possibly on the streets, but, God, I sure as hell didn’t want her working for me.
I ran my hand through my hair, feeling frustrated that my moment of kindness had backfired on me.
This was why I didn’t do nice.
This is what you get for being nice, Sean.
Unless she voluntarily left early.
Assistants had done that.
Women had done that.
If I could temporarily make her life miserable, she would quit.
By then, I’d have found her another job on another floor in this building.
One that involved no interaction with me.
I turned to Edith. My hand went down to my side.
“Edith, I think you’ve just convinced me. Let’s hire her as my admin assistant.”
Edith narrowed her eyes.
“Are you sure?”
I waved her concerns aside.
“It’ll all work out. I really ought to listen to you more, Edith,” I said, waggling a finger at her as I stood up.