Page 9 of Last First Date

I nodded at those I made eye contact with. I knew my way around the office. I spent the weekend finalizing the takeover. My grandfather thought it would be easier if we took care of a lot of the little details without an audience. With the way everyone was staring at me, I understood why.

I walked to his—my—office. I opened the door and stepped into what felt like an empty space. I had yet to make it my own.

"Good morning."

I spun around and knew who the woman was standing inside my office. My grandfather had told me all about his assistant and just how valuable she was. By the way he talked about her, I figured she would have wings and a halo above her head. My grandfather never stopped singing praises of her brilliance and proclaiming her irreplaceable. If I was smart, he insisted, I'd trust her implicitly. I preferred to hire my own assistant. I needed someone that would mesh with me. I wasn't my grandfather.

"Hello," I nodded.

"I'm Waverly," she said. "Waverly Edwards."

"Knox Williams," I nodded, looking her over without being obvious.

"Can I get you a coffee?" she asked. "Or are you a tea drinker?"

I curled my lip. "Tea? Who drinks tea? That's for little old ladies sitting around in tea rooms."

Her shocked expression almost made me smile. Her big blue eyes looked even bigger against her pale skin. She had dark hair, pulled back in a ponytail. I wondered why her skin was so fair when she lived in the desert and the sun filled the sky pretty much every day of the year.

"I drink tea," she said in a tight voice. "Lots of people do."

"I don't want tea," I hissed. "Coffee. Black but bring me cream. I'll add it myself."

She pressed her red lips together. "Anything else?"

"Not this minute."

She turned and walked away. I saw the anger in her eyes. She didn't like me. I couldn't say I was all that impressed by her either. Waverly appeared too eager, too soft around the edges and too young. I found her curvier form out of place among the sleek figures of New York. I was used to women that spent hours getting ready in the morning and dressed in the latest fashions.

I liked my people a certain way. Waverly wasn't it. Not that I knew her, but from what my grandfather told me about her, I knew she wasn't for me.

The desire to reshape my team and hire an assistant more aligned with my vision surged within me. I needed someone sharp, business-minded, and profit-oriented. Those were the qualities I deemed essential for success. She was soft and probably nice. I was sure everyone liked her, but that didn't mean I did. I wanted to replace the old guard and bring the place into the twenty-first century. Unfortunately, for now, Waverly was under my grandfather's protection. He didn't want me making any changes, but more importantly, Waverly was not to be touched. His fondness for her was a weakness. I couldn't fire her right away, but eventually, my grandfather was going to have to cut the apron strings. Then, I could make my move.

It irritated me to no end that he treated her like his own granddaughter. I couldn't shake the feeling that he liked her more than me. I was the heir, but she was the one he really liked. That immediately made her my competition. If I wasn't careful, he would end up leaving the company to her. I would be damned if I let that happen.

Waverly came back into my office carrying the cup of coffee I had asked for. She set it down on my desk and looked at me expectantly. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked.

I took a moment to glance at her, taking in her soft features. There was a pleasant light in her eyes, but it wasn't the cutthroat ambition I would have preferred to see. It was too warm, too inviting.

"No," I said, drumming my fingers on the desk. "That will be all."

She studied me for another second before giving a small nod and turning to leave. There was an air of calm about her that irked me. This was business, and there was no room for softness. I wanted to take the company to the top event agency in the world. That required people with more drive. People that weren't afraid to be aggressive.

Just when I thought she was going to leave, she turned around and walked back to my desk. For a brief moment, I saw what looked like frustration.

"Is there something else?" I asked, my tone colder than I intended.

"I just thought I should let you know about the schedule for today. You have a meeting with the department heads at ten a.m., a lunch appointment with some potential clients at noon, and then a conference call with the board at three p.m.," she explained.

I sighed, realizing that my day was already packed with obligations. "Fine. Just make sure everything is set up for the meetings. And don't forget to send out an email to the department heads outlining the agenda."

She nodded, scribbling down notes on a pad. "I'll take care of it."

As she turned to leave, I couldn't help but voice my frustration. "And, Waverly, if you're going to be my assistant, you need to toughen up a bit. This isn't a place for the faint-hearted."

She shot me a defiant look, her eyes narrowing. "I can handle myself just fine, Mr. Williams. I've been running this office smoothly for years."

I raised an eyebrow. "Running the office for my grandfather isn't the same as working for me. Things are going to change around here, starting with the way business is done."