Chapter 12
JEREMIAH
Keeping things professional didn’t mean I had to be an asshole. “Let’s start over. Jeremiah Williams, it’s nice to meet you.”
I smiled at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, then dropped the act because I realized “let’s start over” would remind her of the start we actually had. Fat chance she forgot it.
A frustrated growl ripped free from my chest. I shoved my hands through my hair, smoothed it and adjusted my tie. The executive bathroom at my office was empty—thank god. I checked the stalls before embarking on this foolish mission.
I knew Neil invited the girl to come back. After the second round of interviews yesterday, he was convinced she was the best candidate for the job.
I, on the other hand, just wanted the chance to prove I wasn’t only the rich bastard she’d seen at lunch. Why I had this compulsion, I didn’t know. I was that guy more often than I cared to think about, yet I never felt bad about it after. Until now.
First time for everything. I sighed, forcing my tabloid-ready smile to my lips. “Jeremiah Williams, please have a seat.”
My voice reverberated around the empty bathroom, sounding insincere and full of shit even to my own ears. No way she would buy that. If she did, maybe Neil was wrong about her anyway.
The low hum of the unforgiving lights kept me company as I tried to think of a new plan. In the back of my mind, I also still wondered why the fuck I needed a plan at all. Insulting people wasn’t something I thought twice about. So why couldn’t I stop thinking about the hurt in her eyes and the angry, indignant set of her shoulders as she walked away from me?
I thought back to the interviews I endured after she left. Candidate after candidate left me questioning what little faith I had in humanity. Across the board, they were more interested in me, my family, press coverage and events than they were about the job they were here to interview for.
One guy seemed promising until I had him type up some memos I had sitting on my desk. I thought a practical test would be the quickest way to determine if he really was up to the task after he answered my questions relatively to my satisfaction.
Then he typed “whorehouse” instead of “warehouse” and despite my giving him three chances to catch his mistake before sending the memo off, he failed to see the problem. Thankfully, I’d given him my email address to send the thing too. Else I would’ve had some explaining to do.
“Jeremiah Williams.” I pulled my shoulders back and stood up straighter. “Thank you for coming back in. We’re going to work well together.”
Stop being so fucking forward. I just couldn’t help it. There was this need clawing at me to let her know that in the end, she was going to be mine, my secretary.
The bathroom door banged open, the sound traveling around the empty stalls. Neil strode in. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in confusion when he saw me standing there. “Dude? What are you doing?”
“Fuck knows,” I admitted.
He came to stand next to me, turning to face me and resting his hip on the counter, arms crossed. “What’s going on with you?”
“I fucked up.”
His head tilted questioningly. He always had been a good listener. “How?”
“That girl from yesterday, I’ve seen her before. I went out with Tanner and the guys on Friday, and she was there. We danced. It was fucking hot. I wanted to take her home, but she ran off. When I saw her again, she was waving at me from the back of a cab.”
Nodding slowly as he processed what I said, he shrugged. “Right. Well, I get wanting to take her home. If I met her in a club, I probably would’ve wanted the same thing.”
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind he would’ve gone after her too. The thought made shards of jealousy prick my gut. If anyone here was getting her under him, it was me. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a pissing contest to see who had dibs on the sexy girl. That, I would’ve won hands down.
This was business… and Neil was the one with the fancy degree and actual experience. “I’m sensing a but coming.”
He snorted a laugh under his breath. “But your dick isn’t what’s up right now. At least, I hope not.”
I smirked but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t right now, but it certainly had been a few times for this girl over the course of the last few days.
Neil rolled his eyes and turned to the mirror to straighten his tie, keeping his gaze on mine. “What’s up right now is that she has a solid resume and a great sense of humor. She didn’t freak out when she met you at the club or saw you yesterday, which means that unlike at least half the other candidates, she was here for the job and not for you. What she lacks in secretarial experience she makes up for with a business degree from NYU and great recommendations from previous employers.”
“And she’s sexy as fuck,” I pointed out, unable to help myself. Damn it. I really had to get it together.
Neil’s jaw clenched, and he gave me a pointed look in the mirror. “This is business, not personal. You need a secretary, and you need one urgently. We should’ve kicked off on that mall project on Saturday. Instead, we’ve been busy with this shit.”
“Dad fired Jannie, not me.” Not that I was absolved from responsibility, but surely, he could cut me some slack. I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger on her just before dumping this massive project into my lap.