“I think there’s been a mistake,” I said.
“Is the job filled?” she asked, her voice rife with disappointment.
“Ah, no, but it’s only part time. Clerical work—boring stuff.”
“I’m good with that,” she assured me.
“Filing, answering phones, sending invoices, scheduling jobs.”
She nodded. “Fine.”
I glanced back at her simple résumé. She was a university graduate. An art major. I had guessed her age right at twenty-eight. Had some office experience.
“The job is dull as dishwater,” I stated honestly. “The agency sent you?”
“I begged them. They said I wasn’t the right profile, but I wanted a shot. I’d do a good job for you, Mr.…ah, Mr. Grayson.” She paused. “You are Mr. Grayson, right?”
Hearing my name on her tongue made me realize two things. One, I liked it. And two, I had never introduced myself or even registered her name. I glanced at the top of the sheet of paper and cleared my throat.
“Forgive me, Miss Wells, for my lack of manners. Yes, I’m Julian Grayson.” I looked back at the résumé. “Or is it Mrs. Wells? Ms.?”
“Miss or Ms. is fine. But I prefer Taliyah.”
“Pretty name,” I said before I could stop myself, secretly thrilled she had let me know she wasn’t married.
She remained silent, but her cheeks flushed again.
“I keep things pretty casual here. Julian is fine,” I replied. I was lying through my teeth. My secretaries always called me Mr. Grayson, but I wanted to hear her say my name.
“Julian,” she repeated then offered me her first smile. It was tremulous but very appealing. “I would do a good job.”
“I have no doubt you would, but why?” I asked her. “This job is going nowhere. There is nothing to reach for, no higher level to aspire to. You’re rather young to dead-end yourself in a job like the one I’m offering.”
Except to her.
I wasn’t offering the job to her, I reminded myself.
She lifted her shoulders in an elegant shrug. “Because I have student debt to pay off. Because no one is hiring in my field. I can work here, also bartend on the weekends to make ends meet, pay my bills and still have some time to volunteer at galleries and museums to get my foot in the door,” she stated honestly.
I liked her frankness.
“Bartend?” I questioned.
She nodded. “At 7&7. I do the night shifts on Friday and Saturday. Do you know it?”
“I do. It’s close to my apartment.”
It was a small bar, had a decent menu, and on occasion, I ate there, enjoying the buzz of the space after a long day. It was a bit rough around the edges, but the owner ran a clean place, and I had never heard much bad about it.
“You’re a hard worker.”
Again, she shrugged. “I do what I have to.”
“Not much time for a social life,” I said, fishing for more information.
“You need to have one to miss it, Julian,” she replied.
I liked my name on her lips too much. I also liked knowing there was no one in her life. Internally, I frowned. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this. She was all wrong for the job. She was too smart, too educated, and too damn young and attractive. I could only imagine how the security guys would react to her. How often I’d have to put the single ones in their place.
How distracting she would be to me with that hair and those mesmerizing eyes.
And her legs.
I didn’t need those kinds of distractions.
“It’s four days a week, six hours a day.” I rattled off a salary I had never once paid before.
Her remarkable eyes widened. “The agency said three.”
“Is four too much?”
“No, it’s even better. And the salary is great.”
I needed to stop this madness. “There have been lots of applicants.”
The light that had started to glow in her eyes dimmed, and she swallowed. “I understand.” She stood, extending her hand. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Grayson. My number is on my résumé if you want to get in touch.”
She gathered her coat, slipping it over her shoulders. She turned and headed for the door, defeat in her posture.
I couldn’t stand to see her walk away.
I couldn’t have her here either.
My mind was at war. Logic lost.
“Ms. Wells, Taliyah, wait.”
She turned, meeting my eyes, her gaze cautiously hopeful.
“A one-month trial. It’s the best I can offer.”
“I’ll take it. You won’t be disappointed.”
But you might be, I thought. Then I spoke out loud.
“When can you start?”
CHAPTER TWO
Julian
I cursed myself the rest of the night. For the entire morning the next day. I knew I needed to withdraw the offer. To call and tell her I had made a mistake, even offer to help her find another job. But instead, I called the agency, removed the job listing, and paid them their fee. I liked working with them since they gave me people to choose from and I hired them directly once I made my decision. No more middleman. I liked to keep it simple that way.