Tempted

Get ahold of yourself.

I blow out a harsh breath, tearing my eyes away from him, hoping that the burning in my cheeks dissipates before he makes it to the table.

“Thank you, Gary,” Drew says to the graying man on his right.

They shake hands, and the man walks off while Drew pulls out the chair across from me and takes a seat.

“Glad to see you made it here on time,” he drawls, voice husky as though he’d just woken up.

I really need to stop thinking about all the ways in which Drew Lawson is sexy as hell. It won’t fare well for me if he realizes how affected I am by his mere presence. I need this position, and if I can’t be professional, it won’t work out.

“Yeah, I made it,” I reply, looking around the place and noticing, upon closer inspection, that it’s not at all as it seems.

The wallpaper on one wall is yellowed—likely due to the direct sunshine streaming down on it daily. It is tearing away from the wall in places too. The marble is chipped in places, and many of the chairs have torn upholstery.

For as regal as the place had seemed at first sight, it’s actually falling apart, which makes me even more curious as to why we are here.

“You see what I see,” Drew remarks, drawing my attention back to him.

“Huh?” I say, pulling away from my inspection and not fully hearing his words.

“The place is a wreck. It’s in dire need of a facelift.”

“I don’t know,” I muse. “It has a sort of charm to it.”

“It’s literally falling apart, Bailey. That’s why we’re here.”

My eyes snap back to his. “We are? How so?”

“I’m in the process of buying it,” he says flippantly, and my eyebrows rise.

“And this impacts my job as an accountant how?”

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re not going to be doing my accounting.”

“I’m not?” I’m starting to sound like an imbecile, and I hate feeling off-kilter in his presence.

“No. You don’t have a degree in accounting. I only said that to gauge your willingness to take on challenges. You passed, by the way.” He smirks. “No, you’ll be my assistant. As such, you’ll work with my accountants, but your job will be more evolving.”

“So . . . you don’t know what my job will actually be?” I challenge, starting to feel like he’s messing with me. Who offers up a job they haven’t already thought through? What is he playing at?

“You’re going to help me with a number of jobs, Bailey. I’m branching out and buying several restaurants in the city. I need someone to help with hiring, training, managing teams of contractors, etcetera, etcetera.”

My eyes widen with every additional task he adds to the list. It’s sounding more and more like a real job with every word he speaks.

“No need to worry, Bailey, you’ll be compensated appropriately. How does project manager sound?”

“Fancy,” I deadpan, starting to feel inadequate for such a position.

“Stop it, Bailey. You can do this. I watched you handle everything that was thrown at you at Silver. This isn’t brain surgery. It’s simply organizing projects and people. You’ll have a team to carry out the tasks. You can do this.” His gray eyes bore into me, conveying that he truly does believe what he’s saying. But how? He doesn’t know me. Regardless, it warms me to have his absolute confidence. I only hope I don’t screw it up.

16

Drew

I can see it in Bailey’s eyes. She’s petrified. She is in no way qualified for the job I’m giving her, but I don’t doubt she can do it. Watching her work the other night had been eye-opening.

She worked circles around my best girls without so much as a complaint. She is hungry for the money, and this position will change her life.

It will help her.

It will help you.

I’m doing this for her, not for me, not in some sick, twisted way to redeem myself from my own twisted path. But as much as I think these words, they feel shallow even to me.

Does it matter the reason or the why?

I shake the thoughts away.

Bailey will be put out of temptation’s way and get paid better. Nothing else should matter.

“Good,” I say, patting the table. “Now let’s negotiate the terms.” Her brows furrow. This part is going to be fun. Living in New York is expensive, and I know where she lives. I need her closer to the action. Somewhere safer.

I want to protect her.

“Your starting salary will be ninety-seven thousand, which is already over the average here in New York.”

Her mouth drops open, and she begins to stutter. She’s adorable.

“Um—” She starts, but I cut her off, loving the way I have effectively dumbfounded her.

“Fine. You drive a hard bargain. One hundred and that’s the most I’ll go until you’ve proven yourself.” I dive right on to the next topic, leaving her completely speechless. “You’ll need to hire a few people for your team. I’d suggest an assistant, someone with clerical experience who’s good with computers. The second hire should be two people physically strong who can help with staging and can be on the jobsites overseeing the crews that come in and out. You can’t be in three places at once.” Things are about to get hectic. I’d already purchased two new restaurants, and I have my eyes on another. Each will be modernized but with different cuisine. I want to diversify my restaurateur portfolio.