Page 53 of Crave Me

“Hello, Mr. Jonah,” Nicole says, rushing to take a seat. “Is there anything pending I need to be aware of, or something you’d like me to do?”

“No.” I huff, holding out my hand. “I mean, yes. Wren, may I see you in my office?”

She digs through her purse, keeping her attention away. “I can’t. I have fifteen minutes to get to my interview, and driving will take twenty.”

I place my hand on her lower back and lead her into my office. “We’re going to need longer than that.”

The door shuts as my hands grasp her hips, my thumbs grazing along her curves. Her palms glide to my chest. For a moment, I think she’ll return my embrace and allow me to kiss her. But she doesn’t move, meeting my face with that same disheartened expression. “You have a job interview?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she answers quietly. “At another Ford dealership a few miles outside the city.”

“What happened to the one you had?” My arms drop as I feel her withdraw. I follow her across the room, recognizing something is very wrong.

She turns, her hands clasped in front of her. “It’s gone.”

“What?”

She sits back against the conference table, appearing lost in her thoughts. “Someone crashed a truck through the dealership and then set it on fire. Me and a few of the workers have spent the last few days cleaning up. My brothers came in to help repair all the structural damage, but the owners have called it quits.”

Her attention falls to her feet. “My boss isn’t the healthiest guy you’ll ever meet. He told us yesterday that it’s better for him to get his money back from the insurance and sell the building.” She sighs. “I can’t blame him, you know? He’ll end up with more than he had, lose the stress that comes from owning and running a business, and actually enjoy his retirement.”

There are a million things I can say, like “I’m sorry” and “What a horrible situation to live through”. Mostly, I want to tell her not to worry, that I’ll take of her. I don’t, of course. While I want to, and it’s what I did for my previous lovers, Wren isn’t a woman who wants to be cared for.

That doesn’t mean I’m not willing to help. “Work for me.”

She lifts her head. “What?”

I lose the space between us. “I need an assistant, one I can trust and don’t have to train.” I reach for her hands. “You know what you’re doing, and I already trust you. Work for me.”

Her stare falls to our hands. “Evan, if I wanted a secretary’s pay, I wouldn’t have worked my ass off to be a rep and make more.”

“How much do you make?” I ask, smirking.

“You can’t afford me,” she tells me, keeping her focus on our hands.

“Try me.”

She lifts her head. “It depends on what I sell, but I sell a lot.”

“Ashleigh made two-hundred thousand a year. You can have her salary, if it’s not enough, I’ll raise it.”

I have her attention. “Your secretaries make two-hundred thousand a year?”

“No. Ashleigh’s case is unique because she worked as the administrative assistant for the CEO of iCronos, the position I’m offering you.”

“Evan, I can’t.”

“Why?” I ask. “My company is facing a tremendous financial crisis. With the right people at my side, it has the potential to take the world by storm. But I don’t have enough of the right people, and very few I trust. I trust you. Say you’ll work for me.”

I expect questions or possibly a negotiation of salary. I don’t expect her sadness, yet it comes.

“You say you trust me?” I nod. “Evan, you don’t even know me.”

My thumb skims the back of her hand. “What I know is enough. You’re brilliant and exactly who I need.”

The manner in which she shakes her head, alerts me to more of her sadness. “I want to help you,” she replies. “I really do. But there are things you should know about me. None are good and will make you take back your offer.” She huffs. “Not that I’ll blame you.”

“Is that what you think?” She doesn’t reply. “Then you owe it to me to tell me, allow me to decide for myself.”

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