“Dude, you don’t have an assistant.That’s the whole point.”
A chuckle burst from my lips.“Fuck.Okay, how about this: I’ll text you my address.Have your sister be there at 10 a.m.sharp on Friday for a formal interview.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded.
“I really appreciate it, man.”Wick threw back the rest of his drink and set the glass on the coffee table for the office cleaning staff to take care of.“Truly.”
With all the travel I had done over the years, it’d been a long time since I had a true friend.But Wick was closer than anyone to attaining friend status, despite the fifty-foot walls I had built around myself.Truthfully, it was easier to keep people out.Can’t lose something you never had.
“No promises that it will work out.”
“Of course.I appreciate you giving her a shot.”Wick was unfazed by my gruffness—probably because his demeanor wasn’t much different from mine.Though he had softened in the last few months since his relationship with Marco and Meghan had found more solid footing.I didn’t know how he did it.I’d never even managed to make it to the third date with a woman, let alone handled two partners for months on end.
Wick left my temporary office with a mock salute, letting the heavy door click shut behind him.
I swiveled my chair to face the window.What the hell did I just agree to?Taking on a new assistant was one thing.Taking on a friend's sister, a woman in the midst of a personal crisis?That was a whole different ball game.
I rubbed the tense knot at the back of my neck.I was already picturing the potential headaches.But I'd given Wick my word.And if there was one thing I prided myself on, it was following through.
* * *
After a few more hours ofwork, I left the Price Industries tower, my mind already racing ahead to Friday's interview with Wick’s sister.Christ.The revolving door of incompetence was giving me whiplash.But if Wick vouched for her...well, the man had good instincts.
The late afternoon sun beat down on the roof of the parking garage as I strode to my car.I always parked up here—less chance of some shitbag dinging my car with their doors.A group of interns scurried out of my path, their wide-eyed looks a mix of awe and terror.Good.Fear bred respect, and respect got shit done.
I slid into the driver's seat of my car, relishing the cool leather against my back.The engine purred to life, and I pulled out of the garage, muscle memory guiding me through the familiar Columbus streets.As I navigated through the rush hour traffic, my thoughts drifted back to the interview.What kind of woman was Olivia, really?Wick had mentioned she'd practically run the Humane Society.That took organizational skills.And a stomach for cleaning up other people's messes.Both vital qualities in an assistant.
But there was more to it.A niggling sense of...something.Intuition, perhaps.The same gut instinct that had guided me through countless successful projects.
I pulled onto the cobblestone streets of German Village, and neighbors waved as I passed.I managed a curt nod in return.After five years, they'd finally stopped trying to invite me to block parties and potlucks.Thank fuck for small mercies.
My house came into view.From the outside, it maintained its nineteenth-century charm.Inside, it was all me.I needed space.Light.Room to breathe.That’s why I’d gutted the place when I bought it, much to the horror of the historical society.
I parked in the garage and made my way inside.The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the central air.Exactly how I liked it.No roommates, no pets, no distractions.
I poured myself a drink and headed to my home office.The wall of windows overlooked a small courtyard, lush with greenery.It was my own private oasis in the middle of the city.A place to think.To create.
To brood, as Wick would say.Asshole.
I settled into my chair.My gaze fell on the framed blueprints adorning the walls.A legacy etched in steel and glass.
But lately, it felt… hollow.I was going through the motions, churning out cookie-cutter designs for soulless corporations.Where was the passion?The fire that had driven me to the top of my field?
I stretched, muscles crunching in my shoulders.Maybe I needed a vacation.A chance to recharge, find some new inspiration.But the thought of being idle made my skin crawl.
No.What I needed was a challenge.Something to sink my teeth into.To prove to myself—and everyone else—that I was still at the top of my game.
My phone buzzed, jerking me from my musing.
WICK FRIEDMAN
Thanks again for giving Liv a shot.She won't let you down.
I snorted, taking a swig of bourbon.We'll see about that.I'd lost count of the number of assistants who'd sworn up and down they could handle the job, only to crack under the pressure within weeks.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard.A quick Google search would probably turn up some basic information.But no.I wanted to go into this interview with fresh eyes.No preconceived notions.
