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Liam sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to believe him, but lying was no way to start anything, and I hated that he’d fabricated a reference on my résumé.
But Elliot Levy was a brilliant businessman. He had to know I’d be an utter disaster as his assistant. I soothed myself with the surety there was no way I’d be hired for this job.
Chapter Two
Catherine
QuestioninghoworwhyI was hired would be looking a gift horse in the mouth, and I wasn’t about that life.
Three days after my interview, someone from human resources called to inform me I was to show up promptly at eight a.m. on Monday and would be shown the ropes by a woman named Davida.
I spent the ensuing three days gnawing on my nails and watching Liam walk in circles while claiming to be working on the kitchen.
He wasalwaysworking on the kitchen. I’d witnessed this man erect an entire house in a matter of days, but when it came to the house I’d sunk my life savings into, he had no sense of urgency.
By the time Monday rolled around, I was crawling out of my skin. Nothing had changed in the kitchen except the piles of material shifting from one side to the other. Liam wouldn’t let me help, not even with the light stuff. I had never been someone who did well with being told what to do, but the bean in my belly required me to take a step back and at leasttryto relax.
I had a feeling I wouldn’t be doing much relaxing once I started working for Elliot.
Davida was a British woman in her fifties with a stunning silver bob and thick, dark-framed glasses. Her no-nonsense approach helped me slip into my own professional mode. I’d filled out paperwork over the weekend, so the only thing I had to do when I arrived was to get my picture taken by security for my badge before I was shown to my desk.
My desk sat outside Elliot’s door. It was so pristine I was afraid to touch it.
Davida ran through the basics of the computer system Levy Development used and showed me where to find my email address and calendar.
“Jeffrey and Elliot use the same calendar system. When I get back to my desk, I’ll email you Jeffrey’s so you can see an example of how it’s done right.”
Davida had informed me she had been working at LD for five years as Jeffery Meyers’s executive assistant, though she was familiar with Elliot’s needs since she’d helped out when he’d been between assistants.
“Is he often between assistants?” I asked.
Her shoulders tightened, and she hesitated to respond, which mademyshoulders tighten. “Elliot is extremely exacting. He doesn’t tolerate anything half-assed. As long as you do things the way he wants, you don’t have to worry about your longevity.”
I smoothed my hair away from my face. “Well, I wasn’t worried about him firing me. I asked because I was curious about the turnover rate.Do people often leave—”
She held up her hand. “All you need to concern yourself with is the job you do. What other people have or haven’t done doesn’t affect you.”
She moved on without waiting for me to comment, making the switch to explaining Elliot’s schedule when something shifted in the air.
A hush fell over the already quiet space.
I raised my head from the computer, finding the cause coming toward us. Davida straightened as Elliot approached, his long strides eating up the space.
My new boss moved with efficient grace. His height and lean build had something to do with it, and the sharp cut of his tailored, charcoal-gray suit only added to his sharklike aura. He homed in on me behind my desk, and I was overcome with the sudden need to wipe my fingerprints from the gleaming surface.
“Good morning, Elliot,” Davida said with more cheer than she had shown me.
“Davida.” He nodded once. “Thank you for greeting Ms. Warner. I’ll handle the rest of her training.”
Davida smoothed her hands down the sides of her pencil skirt. “Of course. If there’s anything else I can do to help, I’ll—”
“I’ll let you know,” he stated.
At his clear dismissal, Davida gave my shoulder a perfunctory pat and made a swift exit to the opposite side of the executive floor.
Elliot waited until she was gone to shift his attention back to me. His assessing gaze raked over me, and I had to stop myself from tugging on the cuffs of my shirt to ensure my tattoos were fully covered. I knew they were, but the way he examined me ramped up my insecurities.
My button-down was black today. I’d ironed it at five this morning when I couldn’t sleep. Then I’d smoothed out the kinks in my rabidly unruly hair and painted my nailsprofessional pink. I’d felt good about my appearance. Until Elliot Levy had stared me down.
