The Secret Admirer, page 1
The Secret Admirer
by Marian Snowe and Ruby Grandin
Synopsis:
All Cara Parker wants is to be swept off her feet...
But the way her life is going, that’s not happening anytime soon. She’s got a humdrum office job and a self-centered boyfriend, but those things are stable and safe. Her comfortable routine is worth more than silly fantasies of travel and romance, isn’t it?
All that changes with the arrival of Ellery Chandler, a silver-haired corporate superstar and "most eligible lesbian in the business world." Cara’s encounter with this powerful, captivating woman starts off a series of events that challenge everything Cara thought she knew about herself, her life...and her desires.
In the midst of all this, gifts from a secret admirer start showing up on Cara’s desk. Will giving into her feelings set her free, or will it destroy everything she’s worked for? Because getting closer to Ellery Chandler comes with risks of its own.
"The Secret Admirer"
© Marian Snowe and Ruby Grandin 2018
Rose and Star Press
First Edition
All rights reserved
No part of this e-book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Rose and Star Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews. Please note that piracy of copyrighted materials is illegal and directly harms the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
More from Marian Snowe
More from Ruby Grandin
About Marian Snowe and Ruby Grandin
Dedication:
For Bethany, whose encouragement and support has been unflagging ever since Ruby met her outside their first history class together in college. We’re forever grateful that you didn't run for the hills when Ruby sat down with you and started talking about imaginary people.
Thank you for so many Writing Nights and over fifteen years of plotting, planning, and helping characters grow together. This whole writing gig wouldn't be possible without your constant love and support. We’re blessed to have you as a friend. Here's to many more Writing Nights, and thanks again for letting Ruby throw Henry off that cliff.
Chapter One
“A curse on whoever thought it was a good idea to have the supply room four floors below the executive suite!”
It was a delicate balancing act, carrying my Starbucks latte on top of a box of binders I’d brought up from the supply closet. Anytime I needed a pencil, I had to hike a total of eight flights of stairs, so I had to make the trips count. Even with the help of my fellow administrative assistant, Linda, we both had our arms completely full with what we’d need for the next few days.
“May the bird of paradise fly up their nose,” Linda proclaimed.
I snorted a laugh. “I shouldn’t really complain, I guess,” I said. “My temp-to-hire position went ‘to hire’ a lot faster than anybody else I know. I’ve got a lot of friends who’re struggling to even get a good temp job, let alone a full-time one as nice as mine.”
“It’s all well and good to be thankful, Cara,” Linda told me, “but nobody should have to climb this many stairs before eight in the morning. The person we should really be cursing is whoever broke the elevator.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “You’d think with all the ‘financial strength’ we gained with this new merger, they’d be able to keep the building in working order.”
That was another thing I shouldn’t let anyone catch me griping about. Enstar Global had just merged with Standard Index, and my job as a General Administrative Assistant for the newly formed Entex Global Industries was a great position. The merger allowed me to be made a full-time employee instead of a temporary one. It’d required me to move to Boston, where I didn’t know anyone, but in all honesty, I’d been looking for a change of pace. It gave me the perfect opportunity to get out of my tiny hometown in the back end of nowhere, Vermont.
My boyfriend, Jared, even moved here with me. He was now working at a little records store and making a fraction of what I did, which he wasn’t terribly happy about...but at least I wasn’t alone.
When the two companies merged, all the execs brought their own admin assistants. They each had little offices attached to their exec's own office, and they handled most of the stressful stuff. Linda was one of these, and I’d met her when I arrived in the city.
I was a General Admin, which meant I staffed the reception desk and all I really had to do was answer the phones, direct calls to the appropriate executive admin, and order lunches. I knew that my position description included a lot more, but this was kind of nice. I made enough money to live comfortably, the hours were great, and despite the horror stories I’d heard from my friends back home about office work, the management here was generally amiable.
Today I was assembling reports. It was every other admin’s least favorite job, but I didn’t mind it all that much. Linda helped me pile the supplies on my desk: ten stacks of printouts, ten empty binders, several packages of section dividers, and labels galore. One section from each stack went into each binder and then cover pages and labels had to be printed. I jokingly referred to projects like these as “arts and crafts day.” It gave me a break from just sitting and staring at a computer screen, right?
Linda headed back to her own office to handle whatever messes her exec might get into today, and I was about to get started when I felt an irritating jab in my eye. I reached for my purse and fished out my compact. An eyelash, probably; I held the compact up to check and blinked to clear it, being careful not to smudge my eyeliner.
I’d only just recently started wearing makeup. I knew exactly jack squat about it, so I’d gone to Sephora, where a consultant perfectly color-matched an eyeliner to complement my hazel eyes. Back in Vermont, the Enstar Global office where I worked before the merger was pretty casual. Now that I was in the big city, I felt the need to up my game a little.
I checked my curly red hair, which I wore in that fashionable tousled look, and tucked a ringlet back into place. Then I smiled and allowed myself a moment of vanity: paying more attention to my looks did me plenty of favors. My curves were displayed quite nicely in my fitted skirt that hit just above the knee and the tailored button-down shirts I preferred for the office.
“Don’t worry, Miss Parker, you’re looking just fine.”
I glanced up, somewhat abashed at being caught checking my makeup by the VP of Marketing, Ted Mason. “Stray eyelash,” I explained with a little shrug.
He smiled at me, showing off his perfectly white teeth. “I hear those things can be tricky.”
I smiled back at him in return and tried not to roll my eyes. Oh, yes, those wily eyelashes. I made an effort to let the male execs think they were oh-so-clever and witty; they liked to feel smarter than me. Things ran more smoothly when they got their way. Ted continued on into his office, and I gave myself a final once-over in the mirror and then put it away.
I sat down at my desk to do a preliminary e-mail check before I started putting together the report binders. The only new e-mail I had told me nothing I didn’t already know: today was the first day our merger consultant would be here.
The large conference room near my desk was booked from ten a.m. onwards. This consultant was being brought in to help the execs from the two different companies work together better. The e-mail read something like “our goal is to strengthen our market influence through leveraging strategic teamwork,” but after a couple of months, I was starting to learn how to decode the corporate buzz-speak. What the e-mail really said was “we want to make obscenely large amounts of money, so we’re spending a bunch to teach you how to work together without bruising all your massive egos. Also, we’re feeding you all lunch! Yay, catering!” I myself had called the catering company and they would probably be arriving around eleven so they’d have adequate time to set up.
I double-checked the Outlook calendar in case any frazzled managers came by asking where the meeting was.
Conference Room 220: Reserved from 10:00 a.m. until 4:00 p.m. Consultant visit - Ellery Chandler.
Ellery Chandler. That sounded like an old man’s name. Probably yet another balding dude with a bad comb-over and a fat belly straining the buttons on his suit coat. I sighed. They always liked to flirt with any woman who looked under forty. I resigned myself to pasting on a big smile and pretending to laugh at his jokes when he arrived and I’d have to unlo
“Excuse me, I’ve got a meeting here at ten. Could you tell me which room I’m in?” A smooth, feminine voice made me look up. “My name is Ellery Chandler.”
A woman in an expensive black Armani suit stood there in front of my desk. Her jacket had a slash of gray silk trim around the lapels that drew the eye and gave it a touch of elegance. It fastened with one sleek black button on her left side. Her pants had creases so sharp they looked like they could cut you. But the suit was nothing compared the woman wearing it.
Ellery Chandler had sculpted cheekbones, a pointed chin, and stunning silver hair. It wasn’t gray, it wasn’t white: it was silver, and I swear it almost seemed to glow. She had striking deep blue eyes surrounded by lush charcoal lashes, and she was tall, maybe almost six feet—it was hard to guess from my seat. It was actually hard to think anything at all, faced with this woman.
She just asked you a question, dummy. “Um... Room 220.” I forced myself to stop staring and opened my desk drawer to retrieve my keys. “I’ll just unlock it for you.”
“Thank you.” She looked down at my nameplate. “Ms. Parker? Nice to meet you.” She extended a hand over my desk.
I swallowed once and stood up, leaning in to shake her hand. I don’t know what I expected, but her hands were warm and a little rough, not at all like most other executives I’d known. It should have been a sign that Ellery would never be like anyone I’d ever known. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Chandler.”
Her perfect mouth twitched into a little smile as she obviously noticed my staring. Her lips were painted with a deep red lip color that somehow made her hair even more radiant. My cheeks warmed with embarrassment.
“Please,” she said. “Just Ellery. I’ll save the ‘Ms. Chandler’ business for your bosses.”
I ducked my head, hiding a smile. “If you’d care to follow me.” I gestured towards the conference room. “I’m sure you need some time to set up.”
I unlocked the room and held the door for her. I was surprised that she wasn’t pulling some kind of cart or even a rolling suitcase. All the other consultants we’d had came with practically an entire box car’s worth of stuff, from flip charts to hand outs to baseballs and boxes of keys they used as metaphors for corporate issues. All Ellery had was a slim black attaché case that was as sophisticated as she was. She went into the conference room and paced around it as if surveying her stage.
The room was long and rectangular. An elongated oval table dominated the space, flanked by leather rolling chairs. Plate glass windows lined the longer walls: one side looked into the reception area, my desk, and the fancy art and waiting area chairs and coffee table; the other side looked out over the city. We were on the thirtieth floor, so the view was really amazing. You could see over the tops of the buildings, and it was absolutely breathtaking at sunset.
“Just let me know if you need anything at all,” I said.
“Thank you, Cara. I’ll let you know.”
And then she smiled at me. Not a huge glowing smile that radiated joy and love or anything; just a very small, quiet, thank-you smile. Nothing special. Just an expression of casual gratitude.
And I swear, my knees went weak. My heart tripped over itself and I forgot what I was doing for a few seconds. I just awkwardly smiled back and sort of gestured at my desk through the window.
When that smile was directed at me, it was like the sun came out inside my chest. Everything seemed clearer, even though at the same time, my thoughts were muddled with the surprise of how strongly it affected me.
Ellery set her case down and looked out the other window, over the city. It didn’t matter that she was no longer even looking at me; I was still entranced. My eyes unfocused as I played that smile over and over, and I drifted back to my desk...at least until I bumped into the edge.
That jolt brought me a little closer to earth. I sat down and forced myself to look at my computer. Clearly I hadn’t had enough coffee yet today. Reports, I had reports to do.
It was mindless work, and as I put packets into binders I kept glancing up at the conference room window. The other execs slowly trickled in, and by ten o’clock on the dot, Ellery got to work.
And I got to watch.
She started by standing at the head of the table and talking. Her posture was very expressive; it wasn’t so much that she gestured a lot, but she had definite body language. I could tell that she intimidated the execs, which made me give a little evil chuckle of pleasure.
They’d come into the room distracted and inattentive, no doubt feeling that a consultant’s presentation wasn’t quite worth their time. Within minutes, she had them sitting up and paying attention. They were no longer checking their iPhones and looking out the windows. Every eye in the room was on her.
Including some just outside the room: namely, mine.
I tried to keep my mind on my work, but really, how much brainpower do you need to just put packets of paper in binders? I let my gaze follow Ellery as she strode back and forth in front of the projector screen.
When she pointed at things, her hands moved with such easy grace that for a weird moment I wondered if she was a dancer or something. Every move she made was full of confidence and elegance. Even the way she angled her head at one of the executives when he asked her a question gave me the distinct impression that she already knew what he was going to ask—and exactly how to answer it.
When I saw that I’d put several sheaves of paper into a binder backwards, I realized just how much of my attention Ellery had been stealing.
The meeting broke for lunch at noon. I helped the caterers get things set up and then I grabbed my purse to go out for my own lunch. On the way out, I stopped by the ladies’ executive washroom.
I always felt like a bit of a peasant when I used this one, even though everyone was allowed to. But it was on my way and I didn’t want to waste any time and be late coming back in case they needed me. It was easily the fanciest bathroom I’d ever seen.
There were finely upholstered couches and a bank of mirrors in a lounge area, and the restroom area itself was all dark gray marble and heavy wooden doors with perfectly polished brass hardware. The hand towels were fine linen. Sheesh, how the other half lives...
I stopped short when I entered the restroom section. Ellery was there. For some reason, my stomach did a little curious flip.
She was frowning down at her cellphone, and she looked up when she saw me enter. With a wry quirk of her mouth, she said, “Figures. I don’t plug it in one time and the batteries are completely dead.”
I instinctively reached for my own phone. “You can use mine, if you like.” I held it out to her.
And she smiled—again, that gently grateful smile. The expression really impacted her entire face, making it so captivating. She accepted my phone. “Thank you.” Ellery glanced down at it, and her eyebrow lifted. “Very nice. You must like gadgets. Is this the newest iPhone?”
I ducked my head. “My boyfriend gave it me. He’s the tech-head, but I do find it useful.”
Something passed over Ellery’s face that I didn’t catch. “Ah. Your boyfriend. Boys do like their toys, don’t they. Well, thanks for the use of the phone.” She passed it back to me and gave me a very different smile: more polite and professional, but somehow without warmth. “Have a nice lunch.” She exited past me quickly.
I stood there holding my phone, feeling dazed. Thanks for the use? She hadn’t even used it. Wasn’t she trying to make a call? I felt like I’d missed something important or that I’d said the wrong thing. And for some reason, that bothered me worse than a stray lash in my eye.
Chapter Two
Later that night over dinner with Jared, I found myself still thinking about Ellery. About the phone thing in the ladies’ room. Why had she given it back to me without using it? Probably I was over-analyzing the whole incident and making something out of nothing.
Jared had taken me out to dinner at the Olive Garden...which would’ve been nice back in Vermont, but here in Boston I thought it was kind of ridiculous. Our apartment was a fifteen-minute walk from the North End, where the local Italian families had tons of amazing restaurants. But Jared was intimidated by them. He always said that he could feel them looking at him funny.
