Mine to Keep, page 4
Her hair falls in front of her face, and she gracefully tucks it behind her ear. “I expect you to be here on time every day.” She nods at me. “The hours are from eight to five, Monday to Friday.” She nods at me, not taking notes. “There will be some times I will need you to stay after hours, depending on the workload or the case.”
“No,” she says right away, and I just look at her, not sure I heard her right. Also, I’m not really used to being told no. I mean, it’s happened occasionally through the years, but usually the boss is never told no.
“No?” I repeat what she just said, in case I misunderstood, but from the look she gives me, I know I didn’t.
“I made it clear when I was hired that I could do seven days a week, but I would have to leave by four, max,” she retorts, starting to get up. “I can’t budge on that.” She stands in front of my desk, her notepad in front of her in both hands. “I take it this is a deal breaker.”
“Why can’t you stay after four?” I want to bite my tongue the minute the words come out of my mouth. One, because it is none of my business and I know this, and two, because it looks like I care, and I don’t.
“I just can’t,” she says, not giving an inch. “I can even work before eight so I can catch up on whatever I was supposed to do after hours, but under no circumstances can I stay after four”
“This job isn’t a joke,” I tell her, and I swear to God, I can’t put my finger on why her working for me bothers me. “It’s a serious position in a serious company.”
“Did I give off that I thought this job was a joke?” she counters, not backing down from me. “Did I give off any indication from the time I walked in today that I thought it was a joke?” I just look at her. “I take your non-answer as a no. I’ve been nothing but professional since I walked into this office. I wish I could say the same about my boss.”
I’m about to get up and tell her thank you for coming and get out when I spot Nash over her shoulder. “Looks like I got here just in time.” He’s leaning against the doorjamb with his legs crossed at his ankles and his hands in his pockets. “Did you guys discuss the gala yet?”
“No,” I answer, looking at Grace, “we were going over a couple of things.”
“Good,” Nash says, coming in and sitting in the chair beside the one Grace was just sitting in. “Grace.” He looks up at her, and I swear, it’s like slow motion in my head of me reaching out and punching him in the middle of his face. “Our parents are looking at having our twenty-fifth anniversary for Cottrell Group.”
“Oh, fun.” Her voice is upbeat, and I roll my eyes as she sits down and looks at him.
“It’s Caine’s job to plan it, and well, between you and me, he’s a bit—”
“Dry,” she adds in as if I’m not in the room. She doesn’t even look my way.
Nash laughs at her as he turns in his chair. “Anyway, we were wondering if you could help get a list started.”
“Say no more. I’ve got the perfect person for you.” She grabs her pen and starts to write down things.
“Okay, hold on a minute.” I hold up my hand. “This is a gala, not prom.”
She just stares at me, or better yet, glares at me for a minute and then I see her eyes shift. “Ugh.” She slaps her pad. “There goes the balloon arch I was going to do at the entrance and the photo booth.” She snaps her fingers. “And the streamers and poppers.”
Nash throws his head back and laughs at her. “I don’t know why, that sounds like a lot of fun.” He points at her.
“I know the top event planners in the country,” she says. “If you want, I can give them a call and have them set up a Zoom meeting.”
“You know the top event planners in the country?” I repeat like it’s a joke.
“Happily Ever After Events,” she states.
“I’ve heard of them,” Nash says, and I pfft through my lips. “What? I have, look them up.”
“Anyway,” Grace goes on, “if you want, I can call in a favor.”
“You are going to call in a favor,” I repeat. “What? Did one of them babysit you?”
“Actually, she did.” She laughs, and she’s about to say something else when the phone on her desk rings. “Let me know if you want me to call her.” She turns and walks out of the room, leaning over the desk to answer the phone.
Nash whistles low when all we see is her ass. “Do you mind?” My hand goes into a fist on the desk, and Nash looks over at me. “Stop ogling my PA.”
“I’m going to see if she wants to go out with me,” he announces, and I shake my head.
“Immediately, no.” My head moves even faster. “Absolutely not, we aren’t allowed to date anyone in the company. We went over this when your last PA sued you for sexual harassment.”
“She didn’t sue us,” Nash denies, and my eyebrows shoot up. “She did it for attention.”
I look over to where Grace is and see that she’s not there anymore. My eyes roam the floor to see where she went. I can’t see her anywhere. “Whatever she did it for, we now have a no-fraternization policy.”
I’m about to tell him something when there is a knock on the door, and I look up to see Loren. “May I come in?” I just stare at her. “I’m here because there has been a complaint in the HR department.”
“No way,” Nash gloats, “I thought that only happened at my office.”
“There has never been an HR complaint.” I just look at Loren. “Who is it against?”
“Funny you should ask,” she says, folding her arms over her chest. “You.”
My mouth hangs open in shock at the same time Nash hits my desk as he howls with laughter. “Me?” I say, shocked. “By who?”
She tilts her head to the side, and just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, it does. It gets so much worse when she says the name of the person who reported me. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. “Grace.”
five
Grace
“It’s quitting time.” I look up from the notes I’m making to Kayla as she stops in front of my desk. “Week one down in the books.”
I smirk at her. “Going to be really honest,” I say, looking over my shoulder at my boss sitting at his desk, leaning back in his own chair on the phone. His door has been closed since Monday afternoon, only opening it when he has to come out to go to the kitchen or to bark orders at me. “Didn’t think I would make it past day two.” I shake my head. “Actually, day one.”
“Well, some of us are hitting up a bar around the corner,” she states, “you should join us.”
“I wish.” I lay my elbows on my desk, folding my hands together. “I’m moving into my new place this weekend,” I tell her. “Family is coming up to help, so I’m thinking it might just turn into a circus.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you are more than welcome to join.” She smiles at me one last time before something behind me catches her eye. “Incoming,” she mumbles before she walks off.
The door to Caine’s office opens and I look over my shoulder. “I need you to see if you can schedule this client in sometime next week.” He hands me the folder. “I think I have some time Wednesday to do it.”
“You have all afternoon Wednesday free,” I say, shocking him I know his schedule by heart, but it’s a reason I’m good at what I do. “I can put them in after one, so you have time to eat.”
“Fine,” he huffs before turning and walking back into his office.
“Is that all for the day?” I ask him before he shuts his door in my face.
“Yeah,” he confirms, and I grab the file and place it on top of the to-do pile for Monday.
“Okay, if you don’t need anything else.” I start to shut down my computer. “I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything to me; he just stares at me with his dark blue eyes. His shirt is rolled up again to his elbows, something he does every single day the minute he takes off his jacket. I get up and smile as big as I can, hopefully knowing that it’s going to annoy the fuck out of him. “Have a great weekend.” I bend to grab my purse from under my desk when I hear the door slam shut. “You too, Grace. I hope that you rest, and I’ll see you Monday,” I tell myself, pretending I’m him.
As I walk around my desk, I peek into his office, seeing him looking at me while he holds a piece of paper in his hand. I hold up my hand and wave it side to side, knowing if I was as pissed and irritated with me as he is, it would make me even more irritated. “Bye,” I sing out and I can see him gripping the paper so hard in his hand his knuckles are white.
Only when I know he can’t see me do I look down at my feet and mumble out, “Dick,” before heading to the bathroom before leaving. I quickly pee and wash my hands before pulling open the door and then finally walk to the elevator. Pressing the button before looking up to see if it’s close, I watch the numbers climb up on the screen coming toward my floor. “I survived a full week.” I look over to make sure no one is around to hear me talk to myself. “I deserve a medal.” The ping of the elevator arriving makes me look up to the golden doors opening. I step in and press the P1 button before stepping to the side in case someone else gets in on the way down. The doors are closing as my phone beeps in my purse, and I’m fishing it out when a hand slips between the doors to stop it from closing.
It’s almost as if my body inwardly groans when I see the watch. I’d know that watch anywhere. The doors open back up and there he stands, the dick of my life. Caine. The minute his eyes find mine, I see them darken over. His jaw gets tight, and I can see the vein in his forehead start to throb. He steps in and his cologne hits me right away. Why does he smell so good? He should smell the way he acts, like an asshole.
I ignore him as I look down at my phone and see my brother just texted me.
Charlie: Due to land in an hour. Heads up! Grandpa Casey is joining us.
I put my head back and groan, not sure I’m doing it out loud or not.
“What’s the matter, frat party got canceled?” I hear from beside me and look over at him.
Instead of telling him to go fuck himself, I just nod my head. “Yes,” I reply, putting my hand to my chest, “and I was preparing for that wet T-shirt contest all week long.” I stomp my foot like a child would do. “All that work for nothing. Also, did you use an abbreviation?”
He ignores what I said and only sticks to the fact he thinks I was going to a party. “That’s why you can’t stay late?” he asks, and I tilt my head to the side, about to tell him that it’s none of his fucking business. The two of us have a stare down until the elevator doors open. I’m the one who looks away first when I take the four steps out of the elevator and head toward my SUV. The phone beeps again in my hand but I ignore it as I walk to my vehicle. I can hear his footsteps not too far behind me, and I make a mental note to park on the other side on Monday, or better yet, on a different floor. Maybe outside. Maybe around the block. I pull the car handle and the car unlocks. “That’s a safety hazard,” he says from behind the SUV.
“What?” I turn, now pissed that I’m letting him get to me.
He points at the back of the SUV that is overflowing with boxes. “You can’t even see when you are backing out,” he points out the obvious.
“Well, then I suggest you don’t stand behind the SUV.” I toss my bag into the passenger seat.
“Do you live in your SUV?” he asks me, and this is the most he’s spoken to me all week. After I made an official complaint with Loren about his inappropriate questions on what I do with my time that has nothing to do with work, his answers have been reduced to one or two words. Sometimes some grunts. I think once I brought him in his lunch and I heard a growl.
“Yes, I live in my SUV,” I answer him sarcastically. “I’m making extra money selling my feet pictures, but it’s been a slow month. My next step is OnlyFans.” I hold up my fingers and cross two of them. “Fingers crossed it takes off and I can be out of your hair.” His mouth hangs open, giving me the chance to end the conversation. I get into the SUV, and I can feel his eyes on me the whole time. I close my door, ignoring the need to look over at him and maybe flip him off before I pull out. I go through the motions of starting the SUV and then putting my seat belt on. I put the SUV in reverse and see he isn’t still standing behind the SUV. “Dick,” I mumble to myself as I pull out of the parking garage.
I make my way over to my apartment, instead of going to the hotel. I pull into the parking space before grabbing my purse and my carry-on luggage. I’m so excited, I’m almost giddy. I can’t wait. Living in a hotel for a week has been a nightmare. I’ve had to eat takeout all week long, then I had to do homework in the bed, it was just so uncomfortable.
When I slide the key into the door and turn it, hearing the click, a smile comes to my face. A huge-ass smile on my face. Opening the door, two things hit me right away, the smell of fresh paint and then the sound of the alarm beeping. I rush in and turn toward the beeping, putting in the year I was born, expecting it to shut off but it doesn’t. Which makes me panic just a little, okay a lot, as I put in the code again, this time the beeping sounds like it’s getting louder. “Think,” I tell myself, thinking of what the code could be when the phone rings in my hand and I see it’s my grandfather Casey, who we call Pops, because we have my great-grandfather Billy who we call Grandpa.
“Hello,” I answer, putting one hand in my ear so I can hear the voice on the other end.
“Having trouble?” he asks me, chuckling.
“I don’t know the password,” I say, looking at the keypad, seeing the red light blinking.
“It’s twenty twenty-three,” he shares, and I press in the code, “the year you broke my heart and left home.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, dear God, Pops.” I walk into the apartment. “Laying it on a little thick there, don’t you think?”
“My favorite granddaughter up and left me,” he pouts, and I laugh.
“Sofia got that same line when she moved out,” I remind him. “Trust me, I know, I was in the room.”
“And then you became my favorite. We should be landing in about twenty minutes.” I walk into what is going to be the living room. “And the movers should be there in thirty. Don’t do anything until we get there. We’ll change the code once I get there.”
“Roger that,” I reply, ignoring him and bringing my carry-on luggage into the bedroom. “See you soon.” I hang up the phone before opening the suitcase and grabbing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I undress, putting my work clothes aside when my phone rings, and I see it’s my cousin Sofia FaceTiming me. I smile when I press the green button and watch the little white wheel go around.
“Hello, helloo, hellooooo,” she sings out when I finally see her.
“Hello, helloo, hellooooo,” I sing back to her, and we both start laughing.
“Have you started unpacking yet?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“The cavalry is going to be here in thirty minutes. I’ve been given instructions not to touch anything.”
“Well then, did you grab a bottle of wine to watch it all?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“I’m hoping Charlie is going to be bringing me some sweet tea from Grandpa Billy,” I share, and she snickers.
“So how is work?” she asks me. “The full first week. How did you like it?”
“I love the work,” I start to say, “love the people.” I look at her. “Hate my boss.”
“What do you mean, you hate your boss?” She laughs.
“I hate my boss. He’s a sexist pig,” I spit out, even though I’m not sure he’s sexist.
“What did he do?” She gawks at me.
“Well, the minute he met me he thought I was just out of high school.” I hold up one finger. “Then he thought I couldn’t handle getting snacks for his meeting.” I smirk at her.
“What did you do?” she gasps.
“Me?” I point at myself. “I didn’t do anything. I got him juice boxes and animal crackers.” She howls with laughter. “Then he sat me down, and when I told him I couldn’t stay after hours, he accused me of not taking the job seriously. He wanted to know why, and well, I was annoyed with him, so I went and filed a complaint with HR about him being sexist.”
“You did not.” Her eyes go big as I nod my head.
“I did too,” I confirm to her.
“What did he say?” She brings her face closer to the phone.
“There was a lot of ‘I did not say anything.’” I try to remember, listening to the conversation from the other side of the wall. “Then he said, ‘She’s a child and I can’t work with her.’” I roll my eyes. “Then he grunted, I think, or maybe growled. He apologized for asking inappropriate questions and said it would never happen again.”
“What’s his name?” she asks me, and my eyebrows pinch together. “I’m going to look him up and see if he’s hot.” Yes, my head screams out, he’s hot and probably doesn’t get enough sex from his wife, which is why he’s always so frustrated. I even tried to find a picture of the two of them together in his office, but all I see is him and a precious little girl.
“I’m not giving you his name,” I tell her. “You’ll meet him sometime next week.”
“Why am I going to meet him?” Now it’s her turn to pinch her eyebrows together.
“Well, he needs a party planner to help him with a gala,” I inform her. “Obviously, I said I knew the best one in the country.” I walk to the kitchen, opening the fridge and finding it fully stocked, probably thanks to my parents. “He asked if you used to babysit me.”
“Great, I’ll look forward to it.” Her phone pauses. “I have to go. I have a client trying to call me.” She picks up the phone. “Love you. Don’t kill your boss.”
“No promises.” I smile at her. “Love you too.” I hang up the phone, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and twisting the top open, bringing the water bottle to my mouth. “No promises,” I repeat to no one, trying to forget him, but the more I try to push him away from my mind, the more I see his eyes just staring at me. “Dick.”
