His Intern

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling and blinked. Light flooded through curtains that hadn’t been drawn, and everything was white with a tinge of beige. The place was so pure that it gave me a headache. The alcohol from the night before reared its head in the form of a hangover, and I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I turned my head, and my eyes fell on her face.

Right. The brunette I had seduced last night. Anna? Alice? I wasn’t sure what her name was. Maybe it wasn’t either of those. God knew there had been more than a few women lately, and I wasn’t that good with names. She laid curled up on her side, her brown hair fanned out over the pillow, her breasts pressed together sensually. I’d slid my dick through those beauties and watched her suck me off for an hour the night before. If I were the committing type, she’d be in trouble. I studied her a little closer. Shit. She looked a lot younger than she said, too. I hoped she hadn’t lied to me about her age.

“Zach?” Her eyes fluttered open.

She was fucking beautiful for sure. At least it had been a rose-colored glasses sort of night. I had enough of those to remind me to stop after a few beers. Not that I ever did.

“Hey.” I reached over and tucked a long strand of her hair behind her ears. I’d hoped to sneak out before she woke up, but life never was much for giving me a break.

A smile spread across her swollen pink lips. “You leaving so soon?”

“Me? Not a chance.” I forced my thoughts of running like hell and pulled at the cover, moving over the top of her as she rolled onto her back. “I enjoyed dinner last night, but I think someone should pony up and give me dessert.”

“Dessert? For breakfast?” She let out a giggle, and I started to question my damn self again. Fuck. She wasn’t nearly as old as she played off. She was legal, but that was about it. Damn liquor.

“Never know if tomorrow will come.” I pressed myself to the top of her soft, warm body and ran my hand down her side. “Open up and let me in.”

“Yeah,” she whispered sensually and spread her legs wide for me. Like a good girl.

The moan that left her as I pressed my cock deep inside her tight little body caused goose bumps to break out over my skin.

“Fuck,” I moaned and pressed my mouth to the side of her neck, jack-hammering her pussy as she cried out beautifully for me. I ran my hands down between her and the bed, cupping her ass and lifting her a little so I could get the last few inches of a cock inside of her.

“Condom,” she whined as she clawed at my back.

“Hush,” I rolled my hips, fucking her deep and slow as she wrapped herself tightly around me. “I’ll get it when I’m ready.”

She didn’t argue, but the sweet little thing was nearly orgasming. I could feel her body swelling around me, teasing the tip of my cock and milking my shaft. It was all I could do to hang on.

Morning sex was my favorite. The woman beside me was always so tight and warm, sleeping and sweet. There was something almost soft about it, which helped me feel like less of a bastard than I was.

“I’m going to come.”

“Good. Wet the bed.” I bit my tongue as I tried to think of her fucking name again. Nothing came to mind. Not good. She could just be ‘baby’ for the morning. “Fuck me hard, baby.”

I rolled my eyes internally at myself. I had a one-way ticket to hell for my indiscretions no doubt, but I was in too deep to pull out.

She cried out and tightened her taut thighs around my side, pulling me in deeper as she undulated her hips, stroking my dick with her sloppy wet slit.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. God, I loved fucking. It was the only pleasure that produced a high every time.

“Come for me,” she whispered and pushed at my chest.

“Not without a rubber, Angel.” I lifted up, flexing my arms and chest.

The look in her eyes was one I’d seen before many times, though the shit never got old. Lust. Adoration. Worship.

“Then get one?” She smiled and ran her hands over my chest. “You work out, don’t you?”

No fucking way I was diving into awkward sex conversations that early in the morning. She had the wrong guy.

I moved to my knees and gripped her legs, pulling her up and pressing my swollen shaft back into her as she moaned loudly. “No more talking, baby. Just watch me fuck you, okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” she bit her lip, trying to look cute. She pulled it off well, but I was stepping over the line. The look on her pretty face told me she was dreaming of dates, rings, and babies.

Warning bells were ringing in my head. I had to blow and go. Fast.

I pulled out and slid my hand up her chest, squeezing one of her tits. “Put your mouth on me.”

Her eyes widened a little, but she moved to her knees and reached out, stroking my damp erection before pulling her mouth around the tip of me.

I slid my hand in her hair, held her still, and fucked her nice and slow until fire burned deep in my belly.

“Use your teeth.” I groaned as she scrapped her teeth over my sensitive skin. “That’s it,” I whispered gravelly. “Drink it, baby.”

She moaned around my cock as I pressed forward and released myself into her sweet mouth, watching as she drank from me like a fountain.

“So good,” she said as I dropped back to press my ass to my heels, panting like I’d jogged around the fucking block.

“Yeah you are.” I leaned over and kissed her. “I’m gonna slip into the restroom. I’ll let myself out and call you soon?”

She flopped back on the bed, her tits bouncing for me nicely. “Sounds great, but no hurry. I have nowhere to go just yet.” She bit her lip playfully.

I forced a smile. Fuck me for not leaving when she passed out the night before. Me and my damn desire for morning sex.

I left her lying on the bed, trying to look like a sex kitten, when I was sure the poor thing just wanted to go back to sleep. Women were so cute, so endearing. And I was a bastard.

I closed the bathroom door and brushed my teeth. A shower would help my hangover a little, but it would take too long. I would have to do that later. I splashed cold water on my face, but it didn’t have the same soothing effect. My thoughts moved around in various places, fucking with me as I glanced up and looked at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t want to face her again. I never liked facing the women I slept with the morning after. They usually wanted me to call them or worse, to spend the morning with them in some mock version of a relationship that would never exist. I didn’t take them to bed with me to make them mine forever. I was never in it for longer than one night.

Did that make me a womanizer? Probably. You can’t help who you are.

Sure, the female body was irresistible, and I knew just what to do to get a piece of it whenever I wanted, but a long-term thing scared me. Hell, seeing them a second time scared me. My parents had a beautiful relationship full of love and respect, and Dad ended up losing it all anyway. What was the point of loving someone so deeply just to have her ripped away from you? Fuck that. Not for me.

There had been times when I would run into a woman from my past. It became harder to avoid them when there were so many. The one thing that upset them the most was when I pretended not to recognize them.

I only tried that a couple times.

It was always easiest to get away before she made breakfast and realized that I didn’t have her number. When she ran into me later, she would be the one pretending not to know me. It was better than having to admit that she’d been left high and dry, no matter how sexually satisfied she was at the time.

I forced my mind to chill the hell out and got dressed in my jeans and a collared shirt. My father preferred suits when I went into the office—backward thinking didn’t get anyone anywhere—but I had spent the night partying with women, and it was Saturday. I found myself suddenly hung over and grumpy. He would have to put up with jeans.

I slicked my hair back, using oil that made my dark hair look blacker than black and turned my head side to side, taking in my handiwork. The movement made me nauseous, but despite my throbbing head, I looked okay. Not bad. Not bad at all. I smiled at myself in the mirror and turned away.

When I opened the door a little to see her, she had thankfully fallen back asleep. She had wrapped herself in the covers, but her pert little ass hung out. She did that shit on purpose. Women. I tiptoed to the desk where my laptop bag sat against the chair. With the bag slung over my shoulder and my shoes in hand, I made my way quietly to the door. I left the keycard on the desk. I wouldn’t be using it again, and I trusted Brunette over there to check out after she’d gotten over her anger.

I put my hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. The door clicked open. I patted my pockets out of habit and froze. I was missing my phone. I turned around and scanned the room. It was still on the bedside table.

Dammit.

I considered leaving it behind for a moment. Was a phone worth the trouble? But I couldn’t leave it. All my contacts were on that phone, and it would be the fourth one I’d lost or broken this year.

“Money doesn’t grow on trees,” my father would say if he found out I’d lost yet another one. Despite living a life that suggested money actually did grow on trees, this was his favorite saying. I walked to the bed as quietly as I could and picked up the cell phone. I pocketed it, and I was about to turn away before my phone chimed with an incoming message. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped for the best.

“You’re not leaving yet, right?” the pretty brunette blinked a few times and asked in a husky voice.

Fuck!

“Yeah,” I said and cleared my throat. “I have a meeting at the office.”

She flashed a languid smile and stretched her arms up. The covers slid from her body, and she lay before me in her naked glory. I wouldn’t have minded another round with her, but my balls were empty, and I had too much to do. Like run.

“I really can’t stay, sweetheart,” I said. She pouted and rolled onto her stomach. I was relieved her breasts weren’t in view to distract me anymore. Something about tits just did it for me.

“On a Saturday?”

I shrugged. My father worked six days a week.

“Do you want to meet up later, then?” she asked.

I shook my head and glanced at my wristwatch. “I don’t know if I’m going to be in town.”

That was a lie, of course. I knew I was going to be around. I just didn’t want to see her again. I leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on her forehead. I couldn’t just turn around and walk away now that she was awake. Women were so sensitive about these things, fussing about emotions after the fact.

“I’m going to be late,” I said. “I’ll try to get in touch with you when I have a chance.”

She frowned and rolled over, sitting up. She clutched the sheets to her chest. She looked like a model in those movies where they were naked in bed for no good reason other than to show off their bodies.

“You don’t have my number,” she said. Damn. Why did I always end up with the brilliant ones that were on the ball? Shit, if I were being honest, it seemed like all women were always on the ball when it came to the second date or swapping phone numbers stuff.

“I’ll find it,” I said, smiling.

She didn’t think it was funny. “Instead of just asking for it?”

I forced a smile. “Can we talk about this later?” I asked, looking at my wristwatch again.

“When you find my number?” she asked sarcastically. She was getting angry with me. God, this was irritating. It was better than when they got all teary—those were the worst—but anger took a close second.

“Yes?” I gave her a boyishly cute smile, or so I hoped it was.

“Let’s not kid around, Zach,” she carried on. “I heard you were like this. I didn’t think it was true, though. You know, with your whole campaign about women’s empowerment. I thought it would mean something. Turns out, it was bullshit.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. We’d been running the campaign for six months and since then, any time I left a woman—which was every time—they threw that at me. It was this new hall pass they tried to use. Emotional blackmail.

“We’re more than happy to help women in the business world,” I said. “But this is my personal life. Not the same thing.”

She folded her arms over her chest, her eyes spitting fire at me. She wasn’t nearly as attractive now as she had been the night before.

“I’ve left the key card on the desk,” I said. “I really have to get going.”

“I’m sure,” she said and gave me a look that made me want to flee. I nodded and turned around, walking to the door where I’d left my bag and shoes. I pulled on the shoes before opening the door again.

Thanks for—” I started to say, but she cut me off.

“Don’t. I’m not interested in you treating me like a hooker. Get out,” she said angrily.

That was my cue to leave. I closed the door behind me, shutting out her stare. I sighed and shook my head.

Another day, another woman.

What she said about Daybreak Solutions’ new campaign was ridiculous. Why should I change my own views just because my dad wanted the company to revive the original dream? Sure, my mom would have loved the campaign. Everything about it screamed Girl Power, and my mom had been a front runner for women’s rights. But she was gone now, and even though the company was her legacy, I was not the company.

I was the CFO. I didn’t have to be all women are everything just because my mom’s company used to be all about that image.

The moment I thought it, I felt bad. My mom had a vision. She wanted to create an opportunity that would mean something to someone. She succeeded, too. She started with the Nettles’ Women Foundation, the NWF, that had made its mark as one of the safest places to go for abused and battered women. When she started Daybreak, which was an extension of the foundation, it was not only to help those who needed a break in life to start their own business. It had also helped the women who escaped with nothing.

It was beyond noble. Until the very end, my mom had been the very definition of noble. Pissing on her dream was wrong, but I just couldn’t be that person. I couldn’t be selfless and compassionate. Everyone called me an asshole, and most of the time it was true, but I was good at it. I owned it. Accept who you are, right?

I parked in my reserved parking space underneath the building and got out. I greeted the doorman, who was always forced to work overtime because my father did, and rode the elevator up to the top floor where my office was situated. My office sat right next door to his.

I dumped my bag in my office, tossing my phone onto my desk, before walking out and knocking on my dad’s door.

“You’re late,” he barked when I walked in. He sat on his throne behind his desk. His hair was a deep gray, and his green eyes were watery. He was getting old, but he was far from retirement. His mind was still sharp as a pin and on top of the world.

“I had a situation,” I said.

“What kind of situation? No.” He held up his hand, dipping his head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Good. I didn’t want to tell him.

“Let’s talk about the press conference, instead.”

I sat down in a chair opposite him, throwing one leg over the armrest. I interlinked my arms on my stomach and braced myself for a whole lot of business talk.

“I think it went well,” he pressed on. “They’re eating out of our hands now. I liked the new ad, too. It ran last night for the first time. Did you see it?”

I shook my head. I had been too busy between the brunette’s legs to notice the television blaring in the background.

My dad pulled a pinched face but carried on. “Next one is on you,” he said. I wasn’t sure what he meant—the ad or the press conference?

“The campaign is doing wonders. We’ve had major markups since it started. I think the public likes it.”

Of course, they liked it. In this day and age, women’s empowerment were the new buzz words, and my dad wasn’t only playing on the emotions of at least sixty percent of the population, he was also making a drastic change in the economy. Everyone loved Daybreak and what they were doing for the community.

I studied my hands.

“Am I boring you?” he asked, his voice clipped.

I looked at him, careful not to shake my head. My father narrowed his eyes at me.

“Are you hung over?” He shook his head, disappointment written all over his face. Had he forgotten what it was like to be young? When he spoke again, his voice was snappy. “Sit up, young man. Try to look like you care.”

I sighed and straightened myself in my chair. I wasn’t in the mood for work. It was a Saturday. I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night— extracurricular activities will do that to you—and my head throbbed dully between my temples. My stomach turned uncomfortably with the remembrance of old alcohol.

My father considered me for a moment with a serious face. He was thinking. That was always dangerous.

“I want to talk to you about something,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?” He never started his conversations like this. “Sounds serious.”

He nodded. “It is.”

I swallowed and waited.

“I got an email from a Miss Sandra Broome,” he said.

I frowned. The name sounded sort of familiar, but she could have been anyone.

“Okay?”

“She told me of your… hobbies.”

I rolled my eyes. “Really, Dad? Don’t listen to hate mail. There are people who disagree with us.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have listened to it if I knew it wasn’t true. The problem is that I know it is.”

“I’m old enough to know what I’m doing,” I said. I wasn’t a teenager anymore, after all. I was Chief Financial Officer in the company my mother started. I had a business degree and enough years’ experience to make it anywhere, even without my father’s help. I had just celebrated my twenty-eighth birthday, and my definition of love suited me just fine.

“It’s not about you and your life. That’s your problem. This is about the company image. I don’t give a damn about Miss Broome personally, but you can’t go on like this. It’s making Daybreak look bad.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“She was just a clingy woman,” I said. “You know how those are.”

I wasn’t sure my dad did know. Since my mom passed, he’d thrown himself into the company, growing it larger and stronger than it had ever been before. His personal life was nonexistent.

“This isn’t about you,” he repeated. “I know it’s hard to believe, but this is about Nora.”

When he said my mom’s name, I froze.

I didn’t like it when we talked about her. Thinking about her always messed up my dad’s day and not mentioning her name made me feel like perhaps she wouldn’t be disappointed in me. It was all an illusion, of course, but it was an illusion I loved.

“I’m not going to let you and your gallivanting ruin this company’s image. We just started the women’s empowerment campaign, and you are single-handedly making a joke out of everything it stands for.”

I opened my mouth to argue but closed it again without saying anything. He was right. I wasn’t exactly acting in the best interests of the Company. I just didn’t think it needed to be more important to me than anything other part of my life.

“I’ll make sure the women keep quiet,” I said. “This won’t happen again.”

My father shook his head and looked toward the window.

“It’s not just about what they’re saying. It’s about your image in the press. The media blows everything up, and with our publicity, they’ll use anything they can find.”

I shrugged. While I wasn’t exactly a celebrity, the press loved my face and over the past year, they’d caught me in more than a few compromising positions. I’d become the city’s most eligible bachelor, and I loved playing up to that title. Daybreak’s name was starting to spread, and that meant the Nettles— my dad and I—were in the public eye a lot more than we used to be.

“I’m getting a PR agent for you,” he stated. “And don’t give me any lip about it. Period.”

“A what?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat, ignoring his command.

“You heard me. I’m not going to let you ruin the company’s name. You need to straighten yourself out, work on that image of yours. Arrogant Womanizer doesn’t suit you.”

I shook my head. “You’re getting me a personal relationship agent? What’s she going to do? Follow me around and make sure I behave? That’s a little weird for a grown man, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be an ass..” He glanced up at me. “Maybe if you acted more like the face of this company, we wouldn’t have this problem. Your mother’s values stood for something good, but you’re fucking them up nicely. You want to sleep around and act like a whore? You can do it under the watchful eye of someone who can throw a bag over your head and get you out of the public eye when you leave, missing your pants, from yet another woman’s house.”

I stood up, ready to walk. “I don’t need help with my love life, personal life or my image. I can deal with my own shit just fine. As for the company, I’ll keep it strictly personal. I don’t need some modern-day Mary Poppins cramping my style.”

My dad shook his head. “This isn’t negotiable, Zach. Now sit your ass back down. Now.”

My brows knitted together, and my head pulsed some more.

If he wasn’t my father, I’d have dragged his old ass over the desk he sat at and popped him in the face. Because he was, I sat down and locked my jaw. I was in for a long fucking day.

The sound of Denver’s morning commute was something I would never get used to. I liked being part of the hustle and bustle of the CBD. It was such a big change from the small town in Southern Colorado where I grew up. Being in the big city made me feel like I was finally a part of the grown-up world.

Everybody hated Mondays. I, on the other hand, always loved them. There was something about a fresh start to the week, a clean slate, that made me feel like the possibilities were endless. Was I a dreamer? Yes. I was probably also the only person in Downtown Denver that enjoyed going to work more than I enjoyed staying home on the weekends.

What could I say? I loved my job.

I stopped at Starbucks on the way into work, from the newly renovated Loft Apartments where I’d rented a really nice place that my dad helped me pay for until I found my own way. I ordered two White Chocolate Mochas and carried my prize to the office.

“Good morning, Hailey,” Clyde said when he opened the door for me.

“Nothing but good,” I said and thanked him for opening the door. No one talked to him other than saying thank you if he got that much. At least I knew that he was engaged, that he liked children, and that he wanted to be someone bigger and better than a doorman one day.

I rode the elevator to the third floor where I put one of the coffees on Jessica’s desk.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Sugar and Caffeine in a cup.”

She smiled at me and took a sip. “Since you’ve started working here I’ve gained so much weight. I’m blaming you.”

I shrugged and sipped my own Mocha. “I’m not forcing you to drink anything,” I said.

“No, but you’re tempting me, and you know how bad I am at saying no.”

I sat down in front of my desk, opposite Jess. “Yeah, I know that’s why Brian sticks around.”

“Cow,” she said, but she was grinning. Jess and I had been friends since I’d moved to the city to study. She’d been two years ahead of me, but we’d met through Brian, her now-boyfriend, who had been a tutor in my year.

“Seriously, though, I like you working here. It’s annoying because you feed me sugar all the time and you’re frustratingly cheerful, but still, it’s nice having you around.”

I shrugged and looked around the office. I loved working at Brand Marketing Public Relations. It was a big company with a huge portfolio, but it felt like a small community rather than a job. I’d been working at BMPR for a month, and I couldn’t have thought that my career life could be any better.

“If it wasn’t for you, I would never have gotten this job,” I said to Jess.

Jess waved it off. “You would have gotten anything you put your mind to. It’s just because we weren’t actively hiring that you might not have ended up here. It’s a good thing Brian has so many contacts.”

Brian and my boss, Otto, were cousins. It was how Jess got the job, too. And because she and Brian were dating it had been easy for her to pull strings to get me into the company.

“Come on guys,” Sarah called from the elevator. “Boardroom meeting.”

I glanced at Jess with raised eyebrows. She shrugged. We usually had our meetings on Fridays, not Mondays. We got up and walked to the boardroom together, taking seats next to each other. We waited for the others to filter in and finally, Otto followed, taking his seat at the head of the table.

“Right,” he said. “I hope everybody had a good weekend. I’m hoping to kick off this week with a bang.”

We all looked at him. Otto had dark brown hair, tan skin, and over-expressive features. He would have been a hit in show business if he hadn’t made it in public relations.

“I know we don’t usually do this, but we have an emergency.” He paused for effect, looking each of us in the eye. “Ken Nettles is looking for an agent.”

The others gasped. Murmurs rippled around the table. I frowned and looked at Jess who was talking to Tanya on the other side of her. Who was Ken Nettles? Everyone else seemed to know. I didn’t want to look like the only idiot who had no idea who he was, so I didn’t ask.

Otto smiled. He’d gotten the reaction he’d wanted.

“He needs someone to straighten out his son’s image.”

Another round of murmurs. Otto waited for the chatter to die down before he cleared his throat.

“So, who’s taking this on?” he asked. He looked around the table again, making eye contact with those who were known for their performance. Tanya. Maurice. Jessica. One by one they shook their heads. They all had projects they were already working on.

Jess nudged me before speaking up.

“What about Hailey?” she asked.

I blinked at her. What?

Otto frowned at me. “Do you think you’ll be able to handle something like this? Your credentials are great, but you only have a month’s worth of practical experience.”

My ears were ringing, and my throat was dry. I nodded. Of course, I could do this.

Otto narrowed his eyes at me, thinking. Everyone was staring at me, Jess included. I wished they would look away. I was starting to feel awkward.

“Yeah, okay,” Otto finally said. “You can have this one. But you’re going to have to make sure you follow protocol. The Nettles are a big name. I don’t want to hear that Brand Marketing couldn’t pull it off.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. Jess nudged me again, grinning.

The meeting only lasted a few minutes longer, with Otto making sure we were all on track with whatever we had to do for the week before we were dismissed.

Jess and I were the last to leave the room. She linked her arm with mine.

“So, your first project Miss Woods. How does it feel?”

I took a deep breath and blew it out with a shudder. “Nerve-wracking.”

Jess laughed. “I felt like that, too, the first time. You’ll be great, though.”

I nodded. I was going to prove my worth to the company and to Otto himself.

“Who is Ken Nettles?” I asked.

Jess looked at me, shocked.

“I didn’t want to ask when everyone else already knew,” I added.

“You don’t know who Ken Nettles is?” Jess asked. “I know you’re a small-town girl, but you studied in Denver for three years.”

I shrugged. “I don’t really do mainstream, you know that.”

Jess nodded. “That’s why I love you. Okay, so Ken Nettles is only the owner and co-founder of Nettles’ Women Foundation and Daybreak Solutions. Ring a bell?”

I shrugged. I’d heard the names on the news before, but they didn’t mean that much to me.

“Ken Nettles is probably the richest man in the city and probably the next one too. He runs both companies with an iron fist, and we never hear anything but positive stuff on the news about his companies. It’s something along the lines of offering help for business startups, empowering the common man. He is stinking rich, a billionaire, but he’s one of those that does the right thing with his money.”

I turned the corners of my mouth down and nodded, impressed. “Sounds like a big deal, then.” My stomach turned. “What if it’s too big for me to handle?”

Jess shook her head and let go of my arm when we reached our desks. “Nonsense. You’ll be great. You can do this; you’ve always been good at hitting the ground running. Besides, imagine how it will look on your resume that you’re the one who worked with Ken Nettles as his PR agent.”

I nodded. If he really was as big as Jess was saying then it would look good for me to have this job. However, right now, I was more worried about whether I could pull it off rather than the credit that would come with it.

“Who’s his son?” I asked.

Jess frowned and leaned back in his chair. “I can’t think of his name, now but I do recall seeing pictures of him in the press.” She smirked. “More often than not, there’s a gorgeous woman or two hanging off his arm. The whole family is involved, but apart from Ken’s son, they don’t seem to like sharing their personal lives unless it’s serious or if the press catches them off guard. It’s one of those rich families that are still genuine, you know?”

I nodded even though I didn’t know at all.

Jess shrugged. “Google them if you need to know more. I’m sure you’ll meet them soon enough and then you can ask all these questions face to face.”

I snorted. “Yeah, going up to the most famous guy in the business world and asking him who he is might not be the best way to start.”

Jess giggled. “You’ll be fine, really. I believe in you. Believe in yourself!”

By the end of the work day, I was tired and stressed. I had heard from Otto that I would meet with Ken Nettles in the morning the following day! I didn’t have any time to wrap my mind around it before it was thrown on me.

Jess hugged me before she left.

“Get a good night’s sleep and try to relax,” she said.

It was easy for her to say. She had two years’ experience and a whole lot of confidence, which I did not. I packed my bag and followed the shuffling crowd out of the building. As soon as I was outside my phone rang.

“Are you up for a drink or two?” Shane asked. I smiled.

“I could really do with a break,” I said. I needed a reason to relax after being assigned the new job.

“And to think, it’s only Monday.”

I smiled. Shane and I had been friends since our first year of college. He was a close friend and one of the few guys that had never hit on me. He treated me like a person, not a woman with a hot body, and I appreciated him even more for it.

I met up with him at Lemon, a new cocktail bar that doubled as a party spot on the weekends. He smiled when he saw me, waving from the bar.

“You look classy,” he said.

I looked down at my clothes. Black pants, a white blouse, and gold jewelry.

“It’s my office clothes, you know that,” I said.

He shrugged. “Still gonna tell you, you look good.”

“Thanks,” I said and smiled. He ordered a glass of white wine for me and a brandy and cola for himself.

“That’s a tall drink for the start of the week,” I said, nodding at his alcohol when it came.

“It’s just going to help the week get shorter,” he said. We found an empty table and sat down.

“So, how’s work?” he asked. I sipped the wine, relishing the dry liquid sliding down my throat.

“It’s going okay. I got a big job and I’m starting tomorrow. I’m nervous. The guy’s name is Nettles.”

Shane raised his eyebrows and whistled through his teeth. “That is a big job,” he said.

“Too big?” I asked.

Shane shook his head and looked around. “Don’t even go there. You’re better than you think you are. Keep telling yourself that.” He frowned. “I hate how everyone stares at you.”

I shook my head, not looking where he was.

“It’s not everyone. You’re overreacting. And guys stare, right? It’s just part of what makes them guys.”

“Guys only stare if you’re pretty,” he said.

I blushed but shook my head. Tension crept in and the atmosphere was strained. We were friends, Shane knew that. I didn’t want anything more with him. He had never outright hit on me, but the little compliments now and then felt borderline romantic. I didn’t want anything more with anyone. I wanted friendship and companionship, I didn’t want to be treated like a piece of ass, which was what every man in my life had done to me. And, I wasn’t going to just give it away to anyone the way other girls did.

Was being a virgin backward thinking in these modern times? Maybe. But I liked who I was, and I wasn’t going to compromise myself for someone else’s pleasure. I wanted it to mean something, but it didn’t mean I didn’t have desires, thoughts, fantasies.

“So, what do you know about them?” Shane asked, moving away from his compliment. I relaxed, the tension seeping away again until it was just the two of us, talking like old friends.

“Ken Nettles is the owner of two companies,” I said. “I don’t know much more about it than that, I’m sad to say.”

Shane shook his head. “You live under a rock sometimes,” he said. “You should go Google them.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, Jess said that, too. Guess that’s what I’m going to do for homework as soon as I get home.”

We spent the rest of the evening talking about meaningless things, catching up the way we used to. Shane’s compliments and the so-called fans all around me faded away and it turned into an evening where I could forget my stress about starting my first official contract the next day.

When I finally got home I was exhausted. My head ached dully even though I’d only had one glass of wine. I didn’t feel like sitting down in front of my laptop to run a search on the Nettles family. The harsh light of the screen would only make my head worse and Jess had said that I wouldn’t find out anything other than their public lives, anyway. Right? I would meet them in the morning. I was sure it wasn’t going to be as scary as I first thought.

Jess and Shane were both right. I just had to believe in myself, and I would be great.

I climbed out of my office clothes and into my pajamas before crawling into bed, cocooning myself in my covers. In the darkness of the room, I could see the outline of the furniture, and the photos of home that I had blown up on the wall opposite the bed.

I was just a country girl, but I was going to prove I had what it took to survive in the big city. Jess had grabbed an opportunity for me.

Time to make the most of it.