His Under Contract - Page 2

With a sigh of longing, I let myself into my apartment. There is no surprise to find my roommate on the couch in the middle of sex. I’m pretty sure she’s a sex addict. She brings people home for sex on a daily basis, having sex everywhere for hours. Men or women, she isn’t picky. I’ve actually been looking for a new place to live for the last month. I started looking only a month after moving in. If I get the job, I could stick it out for at least another month and save money for a studio of my own.

As I undress and get ready for bed, my mind is swirling with hope and fear. I don’t want to let Amelia down, yet her brother sounds scary. What I’m really worried about is my mouth getting me fired. I’m the third child and only girl of a Marine, with a mother content to be a doormat for my father. My brothers never treated me like a girl, we fought bodily as well as verbally—with a sometimes vicious streak. I give what I get and my mouth has gotten me fired before, stupid doctor. Lasting at the last place for two years only happened because of sheer determination to make it in Chicago. Now I know I love it here. I don’t want to leave, and working for Ethan Bishop will allow me to stay. Besides, it’s not like I’ll be locked into the job forever. Once I’m in a better financial position, I can find another job, hopefully one where my boss isn’t an asshole manwhore.

Chapter Two

My breakfast is interrupted by a knock on the door. Cora answers, my sister’s chattering almost the moment the door is open, can be heard clearly. Swallowing a sigh, I finish my remaining espresso in one gulp. I know I’ll need it. Amelia here now, when I would be at work in less than an hour, tells me something is up.

“Brother dearest, I’ve got her! I’ve found the replacement for Cora! You are going to owe me so big.” Amelia lays down a resume as if she’s laying down a sheet of gold. I love my sister more than any person in my life, my love for her is genuine and complete. It’s that love that tells me she is playing me. I know my sister. Setting down my cup, I look towards the resume without picking it up. Once she knows I know she’s playing me, she’ll turn into a pigheaded mule.

“Tell me about Cora’s replacement.” I invite.

Her smile is radiant, fuck me, she’s pulling out all the stops. “Well, her name is Holly Messina, and she’s the organizer of the book club I love so much. I’ve mentioned it, and her, before. Even though all she has is an associate’s degree from a community college, it’s because she had to work while she was going. It shows the determination she’s going to need to put up with you. Her degree is in medical assisting, but the jobs were low paying, with high stress. For the last two years she’s been working for an investment firm, she got her Series 7 the first try. She placed trades, and was a secretary for two men at once, so she can balance your schedule while working under pressure.”

I pick up the resume, two doctor’s office jobs, one in Jacksonville, North Carolina for two years. The second doctor’s office here in Chicago was for just short of two years. The name of the investment firm catches my e

ye, they were the kind of firm that gave financial firms a bad name. Rumors were the SEC was closing in on them to shut them down, with maybe even jail time for a few. “Cutting it close, Cora’s last day is tomorrow. Okay, schedule her for today. I’ll give her fifteen minutes.”

Amelia smiles wide. “Are you sure fifteen minutes is enough? She’ll be starting tomorrow.”

Sonofabitch. “Amelia—“

“Ethan, you gave me this job to handle, it’s handled. At least two of the people I sent you were perfect for the job. Now I’m glad you refused them. You’ll be happier with her. Holly starts tomorrow, and if after six weeks you want to fire her, then fine, do it. Just know if you do, it’s on you to find her replacement.”

Before I even open my mouth, she waves with a wiggle of her fingers and is gone. Women, one of the many reasons I only have them in my bed and nowhere else in my life. No longer in the mood for breakfast, I tell Cora I’m finished. Going into my home office, I scan and email the resume to my investigator. I’ve found he’s more thorough than the investigators my firm uses. I give him a call to let him know what I want and that I need it as of yesterday. He promises he’s on it.

My phone beeps, checking it I see Amelia has scheduled Holly Messina for seven o’clock tonight. I email my guy to let him know he has until five to get me what I need. It’s more time than I thought, so I’m hoping it will help us both out.

Damn Amelia, I knew I should have given the job to my secretary, Sharon, only she had enough to do. She’s also only been working for me for four years. Sharon is fine as a legal secretary, but she doesn’t know me like Amelia does. Cora lets me know my driver is waiting.

I grab my briefcase, Cora puts her cheek out for a kiss goodbye; I comply. I’m going to miss this woman. After ten years with her, it doesn’t seem real she is leaving me for the warm climate of Arizona, where her rheumatoid arthritis won’t hurt as badly, and her grandchildren are waiting for her.

Whether I like it or not, someone has to take Cora’s place. I gave Amelia the responsibility of finding the replacement. I have to trust her decision. Even as I want to be mad at Amelia for what she’s pulled, as a lawyer there is only admiration for her play.

****

I’m on the phone, trying to convince my client to stop being emotional and take the acquisition offer before he ends up filing for bankruptcy, when my email indicator goes off. I glance at it to see it’s from my investigator. Bringing up the file, I read through it. Interesting, her father is a Master Sergeant in the Marines. Her father landed, and would ride out, his stint until retirement in Jacksonville, North Carolina, ten years ago. She started working retail jobs only a week after she turned sixteen. I’m impressed to see she graduated from high school early, at seventeen. Too bad she had to pay her way through school, it took almost four years to get an associates at a community college. Then I get to the notes on who Holly Messina really is through interviews with former coworkers.

Sonofabitch.

Chapter Three

I’m dressed in my best suit, bought off the rack at a major retailor fat store. One of the few roommates who was nice had helped me shop for it. She assured me the suit, black with a white shell camisole underneath the jacket, looks good on me. I remember her sighing while saying I had such a pretty face. The words ‘if only you lost weight’ clear enough they could be heard without being said. I’ve heard the words often enough that I simply take them for the compliment they are, ignoring the rest.

With a heart shaped face, high round cheek bones, wide plump lips, and a short pert nose, surrounded by brown hair with natural red and gold highlights, I believe the pretty face comment. However, at only five foot four, it isn’t easy to find clothes that fit someone short and fat. Even though five foot four is supposed to be out of petite, it was too short for average, and all my pants have to be hemmed.

Waiting at a big name coffee shop across from the huge building where Ethan Bishop’s office is housed, I glance at the clock again. I don’t want to be late, even though I’ve been having doubts again about wanting the job—especially when Amelia gave me the interview time as seven in the evening. Sure that I heard her wrong, I asked if I had. No, she assured me, it wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to still be in the office at seven. In fact, he was usually there from eight in the morning until eight in the evening, six days a week. He only took Sunday off because no one else was in the office.

Fifteen minutes before the time I’m due, I head across the street. There is a huge foyer with a long security desk. I give my name, and receive a temporary badge before the woman calls up to the desk of the office to let them know I’m on my way up. I’m directed to the twenty-fifth floor, the elevator for it is on the left. She warns me it’s after six so I need to swipe the badge before the elevator will move. There are six different elevators, two of them only go up to the twelfth floor.

When the elevator opens, the foyer is still brightly lit, everything gleams in light wood and chrome. There is a person at a long reception desk where there are three monitors and two empty chairs beside the man. Even though he’s obviously a receptionist, he is still in a suit that probably cost more than mine. Barely looking my way, he points to the left. “Mr. Bishop’s office is all the way down the hall. His office door will be open, his secretary left thirty minutes ago.”

Slowly making my way down the long hall, I’m surprised to see there are still many people here. Most of the offices on the right are glass fronted, with their doors also in glass. On the left half of the long hallway is an open area of half cubicles, the rest of the hall are offices with glass fronts and doors like those on the right. When I get to the end of the hall, I stop short when I realize how big Ethan Bishop’s office is. Holy crap, my apartment could fit in it. There is a desk to the left that is likely where his secretary sits. The glass door is open, I have all of three seconds to take him in before he looks up.

I’m in deep shit—the man is beyond gorgeous. The pictures of him in the paper haven’t done him justice. His face is all hard lines, a broad forehead, heavily lined above a straight nose, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, not sitting behind a desk. Holy fuck, the suit he’s wearing is crisp, beautifully tailored and far from hiding his body it’s obvious he has the kind of hard, thick muscles you see on an athlete, not a lawyer. Thick inky black hair streaked with silver have my hands itching to run my hands through it. When he looks up, our eyes meet, his black eyes are sharp on me. Yet, he says nothing for what feels like forever.

“Ms. Messina, come in, have a seat.” Sitting back in his chair, his manner is relaxed.

The hair on the back of my neck goes up. After years of growing up with two reserved brothers and a dominating father who ruled his household with an iron fist, I’ve learned the hard way how to read people. I’m not fooled by his relaxed posture, he’s angry. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

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