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Obviously, it’s been nothing short of interesting.
As I head back into the office building, I pray to God the rest of my first day will go a lot smoother. But the instant I step off the elevator with a bag full of groceries in hand, my ears are graced with the sounds of a phone ringing. My new office phone ringing, that is.
Shit.
I run for the assistant’s desk and pick up the call as quickly as possible.
I’m a little out of breath and the greeting could use some work, but at least I answer the phone.
“Cap…Mr. Cap…I mean, Mr. Caplin Hawkins’s office. How may I be of service?”
Gah, I’m an idiot.
“I have Kline Brooks calling,” the efficient voice says in my ear, her assistant experience clearly on an expert level. To be fair, though, just last night, I had no idea I’d be doing this job. And I’ve also had next to no sleep.
Fortunately, I’ve read enough papers to know the name Kline Brooks, the famous billionaire mogul who started that dating app called TapNext, so I know this is a call I’m supposed to forward right into Cap’s office.
“One moment, please.”
I pull the receiver away from my ear, glance down at the phone, and…screech to a halt.
Jee-sus. What is this thing, the motherboard for the Starship Atlantis?
I scramble to find the button to the intercom or the call transfer—freaking anything related to my objective in a sea of overzealous options—and come up blank.
In a panic, I drop the phone to the tabletop, jump up from the desk, and push open Cap’s door without knocking.
He looks up from his monstrous workstation—mahogany base and filigree accents and just about everything you’d expect from a motherclucking billionaire—a pair of reading glasses perched on his perfect nose. “Yes?”
“There’s a call for you from Kline Brooks, but I have no idea how to switch it to your phone.”
He glances quickly at his phone on the desktop, just to see for himself that I really don’t know what I’m doing.
It’s like men need to be the ones to be right, even when we’re saying we’re not right. They want to prove we’re right just to prove we’re wrong. It’s very complex, and I don’t think I’ll ever understand it, but it’s happened to me too many times to ignore it.
But there are no blinking lights or beckoning calls, just as I knew there wouldn’t be. I haven’t had enough time to get my spaceship pilot’s license.
In a rush, he shoves back from his desk and makes the brisk walk to me and out the door.
I follow like a puppy and kind of hover over his shoulder as he picks up the phone from my desk, turns around, and puts it to my ear. I’m shaking my head, which should make my ear a difficult target, but somehow, it doesn’t deter him.
With him holding it, the proximity between us is…disconcerting, to say the least. As much as I’m a fish out of water with the phone call, taking the phone and holding it for myself seems like the best option possible.
“Uh, Mr. Brooks?” I finally ask as I take the receiver into my own hand.
Cap nods with a smile and a laugh and then sits down in my chair as Kline Brooks answers in my ear. “Yes?”
“I have…uh…I have Mr. Hawkins for you.”
“Thank you…”
“Ruby,” I supply when it’s clear he’s searching for my name. I never would have thought someone as successful as Kline Brooks was the kind of guy to worry about calling an assistant by name, but I guess that only proves you can’t assume things about people because they have a different life than you do.
Cap reaches up and takes the phone from me, putting it to his own ear nonchalantly. “Yeah. Liz’s out on maternity leave. Yeah, yeah. I know.” He pauses and laughs. “Oh God. Don’t you start too. You’re all a bunch of hogtied pricks.”
He puts his feet up on my desk and really relaxes, and I stand back in his doorway, unsure what to do with myself. My hands are like those robots that wander the grocery store aimlessly looking for spills. He laughs again, but thankfully, it’s not at me. He’s facing the other direction.
“Yeah, I’ll be there tonight. No, I know. For fuck’s sake, I told you I would, didn’t I? I’ve got three contracts in front of yours. It’ll be done tomorrow.”
He takes his feet off the desk and sits up straight before grabbing the small mirror someone else must have left behind on the desktop surface and angling it toward me.
Ah hell.
Immediately, I cease all robot-hand activity. Unfortunately, though, due to their locations at the time of eye contact, I have to settle for crossing my arms over my chest like I’m preparing to go down a water slide. I try to smile anyway, and Cap swivels around in the chair to face me.
