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“Go figure. You didn’t feel moved by the shuttlecock?” He raised a brow, and I swear his lips turned up in the corners just the slightest bit.
“Ah, you’re familiar with it. Nope. It just wasn’t something I wanted to pursue full time. So, in college, I joined a pickleball league, and I’m proud to say that I was the county champ last year.”
“Pickleball? Who were you playing? Isn’t that an elderly sport?”
I rolled my eyes. “Do your research before you offend me and the amazing sport you’re referring to, please. Pickleball is open to all ages. And I won the gold, which leads me to my point.”
So what if a few of the people I beat used canes on the courts and had to chug an Ensure to have the energy to go one round with me?
A win is a win.
“Are you going to make said point today?” His gaze narrowed.
“I’m adaptable. I can figure anything out and make it work. I can find talent where no one else sees it.”
“You aren’t applying for a job as an editor. You’re applying for a job to be my assistant. And the talent is sitting right in front of you.”
“If you say so, Bossman.” I smirked. He was used to intimidating people, and it was important that he knew it wouldn’t work on me. Yes, I wanted the job. But I also had my dignity. “I’m a hard worker, I’m willing to learn, and I’ll do whatever I need to do to get this job.”
I leaned back in my chair and raised a brow.
The shuttlecock was in his court.
two
Maddox
WasI in some sort of alternate universe? First, I get moved to this godforsaken town to open an office here a few months ago, per my grandfather’s insistence. Many of our employees were now working remotely, so he didn’t feel the need to have such a large office in the city. Financially, this was a wise move. San Francisco is outrageously expensive. So, with my brother off the rails at the moment, and my dickhead father vacationing in Europe while he pretended to run our real estate company, I was sent to Cottonwood Cove.
I’d just experienced a secondhand high from the stoner kid who’d asked me if I wanted to come over later to play video games with him andget lit.
His words, not mine.
I didn’t mind leaving the city and the traffic behind, but I needed a good team around me to make this work. My father had failed at the helm these last few years, and my grandfather was looking to me to bring some life back into this publishing house. This company had been his baby, his pride and joy, and his passion. Sure, he was one of the largest real estate moguls in the country, but Lancaster Press had been one of the longest-standing pub houses in the world, even if our numbers were at an all-time low, and we hadn’t signed a big author in quite a while. So, my grandfather shifted my father into the real estate business and put me at the helm to lead this company.
And I was determined to bring us back to the top of our game.
But I couldn’t do it with a weak team, and not everyone had wanted to move to this small town. Luckily, I’d gotten a few good people on the marketing team to make the move, and our two top editors who lived in the city were willing to relocate immediately. Once they realized the cost-of-living advantages, they were all in.
But I needed more people, and so far, the pool of candidates in Cottonwood Cove wasn’t very impressive.
“Okay. We’ve established your ability to dominate a geriatric sport and shine with a shuttlecock. What else do you have?” I raised a brow at the gorgeous woman sitting in front of me.
Her skin was tan, her hair was blonde, and her eyes were a rare sapphire blue. She was the quintessential California girl, with dimples and white teeth and the whole nine yards. A personality for days, which probably scored her points with most people. Unfortunately, I wasn’t like most people. I needed a fucking personal assistant so I could stop wasting time setting appointments, ordering office supplies, and spinning my wheels. I’d grown up around assistants who managed both my grandfather’s and my father’s lives. And they sure as shit were not bragging about their badminton skills.
My last three assistants had been disasters. One had called in sick more often than she came to work. One had fucked up my calendar so badly, causing me to miss an important meeting, amongst a shit ton of other errors, which left me no choice but to fire her. And the last one had squeezed my thigh under the table at lunch with a client, moving her fingers dangerously close to my dick because she thought it would relax me.
She was wrong.
I’d sent her ass packing, as well.
I didn’t mix business with pleasure, and I needed an assistant who could handle more than one task at a time—and threatening to grab my dick was not one of them.
“Well, I’m very organized. I handled the entire Reynolds family calendar growing up. And let me tell you, five teenagers and two adults going in seven different directions is not easy to manage. I was a teaching assistant for two of my professors, and they both sent over excellent recommendations.” She reached into her bag again and handed me two letters that were also printed on peach floral paper.
Why in the world would she think this would impress me? It was distracting. Annoying even. I scanned the letters, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved to see that they’d sung her praises. They raved about her work ethic, and one professor called her a ray of sunshine. I suppose that trumped the cloud of cannabis that I’d just interviewed and the woman from hell yesterday who’d bitched about everyone in town and tooted her own horn about being a social outcast.
My options were limited, and time was ticking, so I’d need to bite the bullet and hire someone already.
