Page 56 of Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire)
Charles was holding the door open now, but Hemi didn’t move. “No,” he said.
I sighed. “We could do this all morning. This is my first day on the job. I have to start right, and I’m pretty sure that doesn’t mean bolting for the door at five like a horse who smells his oats.”
I didn’t have a happy camper walking beside me into the building, nodding at the greeting from the security guys and punching the button for the elevator. He didn’t look all that thrilled, either, to see the sleeve of a white button-down shirt shove its way into the closing doors and wave around until the brushed-steel doors opened again with a protestingding.He looked even less so when Nathan, my former fellow publicity assistant, stepped inside followed by a young redhead I didn’t know.
“Whoops,” Nathan said, his dark eyes moving from me to Hemi with an irrepressible smile working its way out as if he’d never heard the word ‘fired.’ Not to mention the word ‘jealous.’ “Morning.”
“Morning,” I said as Hemi stepped to the back of the elevator and Nathan pushed the button for 43.
“This is Heather,” Nathan said. “Your replacement. Heather, this is Hope, obviously.” He glanced at Hemi, but not even Nathan’s self-confidence was a match for the forbidding figure staring back at him.
“Hi,” I said. I longed to ask how it was going up there, especially with the new publicity director, Jennifer Flores, but how could I ask with Hemi standing there like a very scary boulder? Or a CEO. Either one. “And this is Hemi.”
“Hemi Te Mana,” he said with a brief glance at the redhead. “Welcome.”
She made a noise that sounded exactly like, “Gulp.” I knew how she felt. “Hello,” she finally said, then looked worried that it was the wrong answer.
Silence reigned until Hemi got off at 26 for reasons unknown to me. He held the door a second, looked hard at me, said, “I’ll text you,” and stalked off.
The moment the doors closed again, Nathan was talking, of course. “I see you’re trying to be inconspicuous. It’s totally working, too. Nothing like climbing out of the limo with the CEO at eight in the morning.”
“It’s not a limo,” I said. “It’s just a car.”
“Right.” He eyed the world’s prettiest rose-printed pencil skirt, which I was wearing with a cropped, structured white top and nude heels. “We do a little shopping on our vacation? Somewhere other than Target? You know what we’re all dying to hear. How in the world do you do it? That is one seriously scary man, and you’re not exactly the toughest nail in the box.”
I glanced at Heather, and Nathan said, “What, you think I haven’t already told her? This is gossip gold. So how was New Zealand? Does he get any less terrifying amongst his own kind?”
“Wow,” was all Heather said. “He’s really—” And then she blushed worse than I ever had. “Hot,” she whispered. “Sorry.”
“That’s OK,” I said. “He is.” And then I jumped, because Nathan was grabbing my hand.
“Holy shit,” he said, lifting it in the air and inspecting Hemi’s ring. “One word. Email. It’s a concept. Why did I not know this? I’m surprised you can even lift your hand. The fire…it burns, and I’m not sure if it’s the glare of that rock or jealousy. The Woman Who Need Never Work Again. So tell me…why are we here, exactly?”
“Uh…because it’s too many floors to walk?” I knew I shouldn’t have worn the ring to the office. Not that Hemi would have let me leave it off. He liked seeing it on my finger, and I knew he was still edgy about Anika, even though he hadn’t said anything.Especiallysince he hadn’t said anything. Another week, and I’d ask. No matter what.
Heather was edging away as if I might have a communicable disease. Power-itis, or something. Nathan, naturally, was unfazed. “Hey,” he said. “Do you imagine that you aren’t a hot topic, or that anybody here doesn’t know where you went on vacation and who you went with?”
“Oh, boy,” I said, “that isbadnews. How would they know, though?”
“Well, if you mean, ‘Did that evil Nathan tell everybody?’ the answer would sort of be ‘Yes.’ Not that they wouldn’t have found out anyway. Our lives are little. We must gossip.”
“Your life is not little. You’re the son of rich, scary people yourself. And you must not.”
“Not as rich as that. And notnearlythat scary. My dad’s a total goof.” The elevator opened on 43, the Publicity Department, and Nathan held it open as Heather scurried off. “So seriously,” he said. “How did he do it? Was a violinist present? Or—ooh, I’ve got it—did we go on a helicopter ride over the mountains and end up in a vineyard on the Marlborough Sounds with a string quartet playing Pachelbel’s Canon, because the wedding march is so déclassé? Were you led by the hand to a white-clad table in a rose arbor, with champagne chilling in an ice bucket? When’s the wedding, and do I get to come? Come on. Gory details.”
I was so not telling him that Hemi had proposed in bed. Anyway, once I started, I’d be evading like mad, and Nathan would be probing, and…no. “I’ve got to go,” I said. “First day, you know?”
“Hope,” Nathan said, ignoring the protesting screech from an elevator held past its ascend-by date, “do you seriously think you’re going to get fired? Because I’ve got news for you. You’re not going to get fired. Welcome to your new life.”
“Glass of wine?” I asked. “After work? And I’d much rather listen to Publicity Department gossip than have you talk about me. I’m just letting you know in advance, so I don’t have to wave my magic wand and have you killed, or whatever you imagine I could do.”
“Can’t tonight,” he said. “I’ve got somebody new, and she likes me a whole, whole lot. See what you missed? No, you probably don’t. But anyway, I’m torn here. I want to hear the story, and yet I’m strangely terrified. Somehow, I can already feel the Maori war club splitting my skull. My head’s actually itching. Why is that?”
“Because you’re an idiot?” I suggested.
He gave me his cheeky grin and was gone, and I wondered if anybody in the Marketing Department would pop his prairie-dog head over the wall of my cube and complain about the boss. I suspected not.
I was right.
