Only You (A Sweet Torment Novel) (4 page)

“Indiana isn’t an option and neither is family.” No-fucking-way were either happening. Not to mention, “The job market is here, not in my hometown.”

Roman nodded. “I understand.” And something in his eyes made me believe him. Roman had traveled once with Amy to our small hometown and saw firsthand how it could have a negative effect on someone. “Do you have a lead on a job?”

I really wanted to say, “Why do you care?” but I didn’t. Roman, after all, had become a friend over the past several months. His love and loyalty lay with Amy, and Amy cared about me. I appreciated Roman questioning me to death, but in the end, this wasn’t something he or my friends could help with.

“It’s not looking good,” I said honestly. “But I’ll figure it out.”

“I respect you, Paige, and am anxious for this to get sorted out. In the meantime, you need a job and place to live. I know a guy who is losing his executive assistant next week. She’s going on maternity leave and he is looking for a three-month replacement.”

I frowned. “What campaign?”

Roman shook his head. “No campaign. I think for now . . .” He glanced at the door quickly and took a moment before finishing his sentence, though I had a pretty good idea what he was trying to say. “You’re done in politics, Paige.”

My chest closed around my lungs. I had gathered that, but hearing the governor say it out loud stung deeper than I was ready to admit.

“I’ve called around, Paige. Everyone knows about the situation. It’s good you’re not named in any capacity as being a part of the scandal.” The word
yet
hung between us, though Roman had the grace not to say it. “But I think it’s time to put your skills to other uses. You’d be a great executive assistant. You practically ran the office and Bill’s schedule. It’s something until you get on your feet. Maybe you can even get a recommendation from this job once you leave.”

I nodded. It sounded like a hopeful idea. But still, “Why would he hire me with all this going on?”

Roman met my eyes. “He’s in big business, not politics. He knows about the scandal, but since you’re not named, he has no idea you’re involved. Just that a lot of people resigned. I told him you were fantastic and he agreed to an interview.”

“I don’t know.”

“It comes with room and board. Since this job is around the clock and quite demanding, it is held on his property. He has several homes and offices, and there is a guest house where you can stay. Plus, it’s upstate, which would be good for”—his eyes went to the window and settled on Amy—“everyone involved.”

Even when Roman was trying to help, it sounded like he was also trying to keep me away. Granted, staying away wasn’t a bad idea. My pride was always something I had a hard time letting go of, but something about this didn’t feel one-hundred percent right. It was as though letting go of politics symbolized letting go of everything I’d built. Everything I was, or tried to be.

But what I was, was an unemployed, unhirable woman with a shady past and no one to believe in.

I opened my mouth to say something, tell Roman thanks but no thanks, that I could find my own way in the world. I’d been doing it long before he became my boss. Somehow, I could figure this out. I wasn’t the girl I once was. I wasn’t scared and running from the past.

Well . . . maybe I was.

The tough shell I’d built was already chipping and insecurity was seeping in.

I shook my head. No. No fucking way was I going out anything but a strong, confident woman who could take care of herself. Fuck everything else. I’d be fine. I had to be.

“Think about it,” Roman said softly right as Hazel and Amy came in. Roman faced Amy and wrapped an arm around her. “Let’s get the rest of these loaded so we can get Hazel on the road to Columbia.”

Hazel clapped a little and Amy walked toward me as Roman took a large box out.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Just great. I appreciate your willingness to put me up, but I promise I’m fine. I still have a few days here and a place lined up.”

“Really?” Amy said with hope in her wide eyes. I hated omitting details to her face. Because no, not really. Unless you called a crappy hotel on the edge of town “a place lined up.” But either way, I would take care of it.

“Yep, I’m good. Promise.”

She eyed me for a moment before finally letting it drop. “Okay, well if anything changes, you know where I am.”

I smiled. I did know. My best friend was at the governor’s house, a place I couldn’t go near. Looking around, I saw how empty the place already was without Hazel. I grabbed a smaller box and walked out to the truck.

“It’s all over the news, Paiges,” my mother said.

I sat in the middle of the living room floor in a damn near empty apartment with a glass of wine, stack of bills, and my laptop. All of the big pieces had belonged to Hazel and Amy. I looked around and realized how little I actually owned.

“I know, Mom. But everything is fine.” When I got the call from my mother and her worried tone was apparent, I knew she must have learned of the fallout. Plus, she only called me Paiges when she was either being condescending or out to annoy me on purpose.

“I’m sorry to hear you lost your job. I thought you were doing so well.”

“I was,” I said gruffly. “Just one of those things.”

I didn’t want to explain more. Nor would it matter. I wasn’t named, so to some extent, I kept a bit of privacy and distance from the matter.

“You know you can always come home.” My mother let out a long breath and the phone squeaked as if she clutched it closer to her ear. “All you have to do is apologize to your dad and you’re welcome back in our house.”

“Stepdad,” I corrected, wincing at her words. “Frank is my stepdad.”

And there was no way in hell I was apologizing, because I did nothing wrong. Other than put up a fight when he’d snuck into my room, then sought help—not that help ever came.

“You have to let go of your anger, Paiges. I love you. Your father loves you. We’ll forgive you.”

My stomach knotted so tightly I was ready to retch the red wine I’d been enjoying. It had been ten years and my mother still didn’t believe me. She defended Frank and stood by him. What was worse, the entire town knew about the allegations and I’d become an overnight pariah with zero credibility. No one wanted to come near me.

“Didn’t you forgive me when you made me recant my statement about Frank?” My words were more of a hiss and even through the phone, it sounded like they stung my mother.

After a so-called investigation, which was basically the sheriff sitting me down and asking me a few questions, and a medical evaluation that turned up nothing, my mother told me to retract my accusations. I argued that the physical exam didn’t do any good because Frank didn’t get a chance to actually carry out his intention. And bruises on my hip and knees apparently weren’t evidence enough that he had grabbed me.

“Paige, I told you to do the right thing. You were upset because your father left the year before and with all the trouble you were having with boys . . .”

Trouble? After my real father left, yes, I had some daddy issues to work out. Finding guys my age to provide a false sense of comfort and belonging was the best I could do. Apparently my promiscuous reputation was used against me when my accusations of Frank came to light, another reason people didn’t believe me.

The few guys I’d latched on to were from a town or two over and they usually ended up either finding out about my reputation or turning out to be bigger douches than even I could deal with.

Frank had been a “good guy” in the eyes of the community and apparently still was. He had a small plumbing business, was on the school board, and even headed up the youth baseball leagues. When the news spread about what I’d accused him of, the town chose sides. I lost out big when my mother told everyone I had an overactive imagination and flare for drama. Hardly a soul believed me to this day.

Amy and I had been friends then, and she did stand by me, but we were both teenagers and I didn’t go into details with her. Once I realized I was alone in the allegations, I did everything I could to just survive in a place I wasn’t really wanted. The couple occasions Amy had tried to ask me about it, I refused to talk. I didn’t want to remember. I felt defeated and just wanted to weather the storm until I could start over. A similar situation I was currently staring down. But when the details of the past were thrown in my face, especially by my mother, I couldn’t sit back and take it. I may have been a scared kid back then, but I was a fighter now.

“I’m not having this discussion with you again, Mom. We always end up fighting.” I balanced the phone between my shoulder and ear and started whisking through the pile of bills I had. Looking them over, I realized I’d be lucky if the last of my savings covered them.

“That’s because you won’t admit the truth,” she said.

“No, it’s because
you
won’t.”

When she huffed, I knew this was going nowhere. Despite her attempts to love me, deep down, she chose Frank over me, and we both knew it. There wasn’t space for both of us, especially when the asshole was a mean, lying son of a bitch.

“I’ve got to go,” I said, right when I came across the thin yellow slip I’d been dreading. An end of lease notice. There, in big, bold letters, was a boot to my ass out on the street. Hazel had already moved out, but I was staying until the last day of our lease, mostly because I still hadn’t found a new place and the landlord wasn’t interested in a month-to-month arrangement. Not that I could afford it anyway.

“If you change your mind, you know you’re welcome back . . .” She trailed off and I knew that my welcome wagon came with the price of my apology. No fucking way was that ever happening.

“Bye, Mom.”

I hung up the phone and took a deep swallow of my wine. Life was crashing and my options grew bleaker by the hour. I picked up my cell once more and dialed Roman. When he answered, I said one thing.

“If the job opportunity with your friend is still available, I’d like to take the interview.”

Chapter Four

I
swallowed hard because, Jesus Christ, this place was massive. Roman had given me a few details about the guy I was to interview with. He was in shipping, overseeing the importing and exporting of high-end products. Judging by the massive red brick mansion, complete with white pillars and two staircases to the entrance, he was on Onassis level.

The property was huge, with rolling hills in the distance and a dense forest to the east. Several other brick structures matching the main house were scattered around and looked to be either living areas or other office buildings. This was a compound of wealth. And here I had thought fitting in with the big players of politics had been hard.

Glancing at my heels from last season, ones I had gotten on clearance, I felt the typical nervousness I always got when entering an environment I was socially not classy enough for.

It was a fight on a daily basis to prove I could fit into this kind of world with these kinds of people. The kind who ran the world and had money and power. Things I didn’t have. But I wanted to be something. Wanted that “more” factor. Not in wealth, but in reputation. I wanted to be somebody . . . somebody worth acknowledging.

I stepped along the marble floors into the main entrance of the mansion. Though it was a house, at least partly, there was a grand desk in the foyer and a slight man who appeared to be in his sixties sitting behind it.

“Hello, I am Paige Levine. I have an appointment with Stephen Hamilton.”

Roman had said Mr. Hamilton was the head of the HR department. Talking directly to the person in charge of the hiring would be nice.

“Yes, ah, Miss Levine,” the older man said, and stood somewhat shakily. “Follow me.”

He started walking up the massive staircase that wrapped around to a large, mahogany door. He gave a small knock, then opened the door a sliver.

“He’s expecting you,” the older man said, and started his slow descent down the stairs.

Squaring my shoulders, I gave a final once-over of my hair and skirt. White, button-up blouse tucked into my black pencil skirt was my best professional outfit. Simple, but it made me feel powerful, which was something I needed, since my attempts to tamp down the growing nervousness in my gut were coming up short.

This was my last option. I was out of time, money, and a place to live. If this didn’t work . . .

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

This would work.

I wouldn’t leave this meeting until it did. There was one thing I had in spades, and that was ambition. I always went for it.

I told Amy once that power respects power and that was how I’d lived my life since leaving Indiana. It was how I would continue to live it. I vowed when I was younger to do everything I could to never be weak and desperate again. Ever.

Holding my head high, I walked into the room.

The massive oak desk sat dead center and a wall of windows was behind it, looking out onto acres and acres of land. I had been in the governor’s office many times, and this rivaled it. Power and masculinity dripped from every fixture, from the floor-to-ceiling bookcases to the rich leather chairs and brass fixtures.

“Miss Levine?” A man’s head showed over the top of a tall chair facing away from me. He swiveled around as I answered.

“Yes, sir—” But my words drowned in shock when I saw his face. “Leo?”

Dressed in a blue button up, undone at the collar, black vest, and pants, the man oozed sexy corporate male model, and oh my God, he was even more gorgeous than I remembered.

“I . . . you?” I said.

No words seemed to match the questions racing through my head. His thick black hair was combed to perfection and those searing blue eyes were like a hurricane coming at me with intensity.

He sat back in his chair and grinned.

“It is me.” He held open his arms. “The man you left at the bar last week.”

My mouth dropped open, but I snapped it shut quickly. I needed to regain my composure. I was a professional after all.

“I thought I was meeting with someone in charge of hiring, not—”

“A delivery boy?” There was just a touch of harshness in his voice. “I am in charge of hiring, Red.”

“You’re in HR?”

He laughed. “I’m Leandro Savas. I own this shipping company.”

Oh God . . .

Suddenly everything pieced together and I felt like a world-class idiot. I didn’t know why Leo was dressed down the day he brought the small box—which I found out later was expensive whiskey—to the governor, but he had really been bringing something to his friend. The same friend Roman was talking to.

Shit!

“When I spoke to Roman and he said your name, I gave Stephen a break and figured I’d screen you myself.”

His eyes roamed the length of me. He may have been sitting in a huge office and wearing a suit, but he still had that bad-boy gleam in his eye that matched the Leo I had met that day.

I cleared my throat and with all the gumption I had, said, “Haven’t you screened me already?”

He grinned. “I think that right there is the reason this is a bad idea, Miss Levine.”

I lifted my chin and took a deep breath, clutching the small file folder that held my resume. I had come here ready to pitch myself and sell this man on why he should hire me. Never did I think I’d be staring down the guy I’d ditched my panties for in a public bathroom. Then ditched him.

“Bad idea?” I asked, going for my best casual voice. He stood and walked around his desk.

“Yes. Obviously we have a past, no matter how brief it was, that I fear can complicate a workplace environment. But I had already promised Roman I’d interview you, so I figured it would only be right to tell you in person that I’m sorry, but this won’t work.”

Blood rushed to my ears because it sounded like I was losing this job before I even had a chance to go for it.

“Why don’t you tell me a bit about the job?” I offered. “And perhaps I can tell you my strengths.”

He looked me over for a moment. “I need a personal executive assistant. It’s temporary, three months. And I am already aware that one of your strengths is short-term situations.” Ouch, that stung a little. But I did leave him in a bar, so coming across as a temporary woman was the least of my worries at the moment.

“I was told lodging was included?”

He nodded. “A small home on the east side of the property is part of the agreement. The demands I place on my personal assistant, as well as the nature of my work, dealing with associates overseas at all hours, makes living here an easy arrangement. But Miss Levine, I don’t think—”

He sounded like he was going for a negative again, so I cut him off. “I was also told you are in the middle of a hectic work schedule?”

He looked at me for a long moment. Whether it was the fact that I’d had sex with him, or that I was desperate for this job, it made a lot of my modesty disappear. It was time to be bold and go for it. All or nothing.

Finally he answered. “I have ships, ports, and routes from Greece to New York, not to mention a major deal I am trying to close.”

I nodded. Obviously I couldn’t press for details on this deal since I didn’t have the job, but it sounded big. Since Savas Shipping was a global company, the opportunity was limitless.

“I’d need someone bright, able to jump right in, mingle with an intense crowd of various business people with a level of discretion. Someone to be at my beck and call and execute my wishes effortlessly.”

The more he talked, the more I felt ready to tackle this job. The responsibility and opportunity was drugging. Planning and helping to control people’s schedules and lifestyles—it was a way I maintained a sense of control.

“I think I’d be perfect for this position. Based on the job description, I have a lot of skills and assets that would benefit you.”

“I’m aware,” he said with a wicked edge to his voice that made my knees go a little weak and a stupid heat creep to my cheeks. “But sexual harassment is a very real issue and I don’t need that here. I think it’s best we part ways. Feel free to use the door”—he motioned behind me—“instead of the window to make your exit.”

“First of all, I didn’t go out the window, I went out the back exit of the bar.”

He tilted his head and grinned a little as if I amused him, but that only pissed me off further. “Secondly, I have a lot of experience in dealing with various projects at a high level and I work my ass off around the clock.”

He raised a brow.

“You realize I’m looking for a personal assistant? That means you fulfill any and every desire I need met.”

I pursed my lips. “I heard your last assistant is going on maternity leave. Did she fill all your
desires
?”

He laughed. “Yes, she did. And she and her husband of five years are very excited for their new baby. See, that”—he waved his hand—“is why we won’t work.”

“You said I’d need to fulfill your desires. I just wanted to clarify what that entailed.”

He looked at me deadpan. “That means anything, Miss Levine. Purely professional of course.”

He looked me over once more, leaving a heat in his wake, and I couldn’t help but tremble a little, remembering how his mouth felt on my skin. Maybe it was because I was at the end of my rope in every area of my life. Or maybe it was because only a week ago he’d looked at me like I was something special and made me laugh. Made me feel things. Made me beg for more.

Now, he looked at me like I was a risk. Though I couldn’t blame him, considering how I left him. It sucked realizing I really wanted that other Leo back. The Leo who made me forget my life for a little while and seemed content to spend time with me. The Leo I obviously chased off by ditching him.

But that encounter was over and I needed to approach him like I would any other man I’d come into professional contact with. Ferociously. It was the only way to earn their respect. It was how I got the job working for Bill. I had to prove why I was the best choice.

“With our previous encounter, I fear the workplace environment could become . . . hostile.”

“I’m nothing if not professional, I assure you.”

He raised a brow. “Oh? I still have fingernail marks on my back to prove otherwise.”

“I was off the clock.” I slapped my file down on his desk. “And I still have a bite mark on my shoulder.”

He grinned. “Well, I see we both have little mementos from that night. However, I still have a concern of a sexual harassment issue. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable at any point. Unfortunately, I don’t see a way around this.”

I swallowed hard and put myself directly in front of him. There was no way I could lose this shot. First off, Leo didn’t seem to know details or care about the fact that I no longer worked for the governor. Roman had obviously spoken with Leo about my taking on this position, but I trusted he would never talk about the scandal or people involved.

Would there be tension in Leo’s and my relationship? Maybe. Because he was right—we’d had one hell of an experience. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

If I could just land this job, I could get the minimal three-month experience and a letter of recommendation. That would be major, since I currently couldn’t list any of my former bosses as references.

Roman did the best he could with this little reference, but I couldn’t count on that for anything else. The only reason I got his endorsement for this position in the first place was because Roman was friends with Leo and it wasn’t a job in politics. I appreciated Roman’s help, but I also knew he would now have to distance himself from me.

But Leo’s name attached with a good word would give me a huge bump in finding something else once my time here was up. Not to mention, mingling with other large firms he did business with would open doors to this new profession of . . .

Anything but politics.

More than that. I’d go back to being useful. Needed. Busy. Things I clung to. Things that made me feel worth something. I had only been a week on the unemployment market and the lack of social life and the stillness of my empty apartment was closing in on me. Not to mention the get-the-fuck-out notice. My time was up.

“I’m the right person for this job, Leo,” I said, only a foot between us. “Look over my resume and you’ll see that.”

He smiled and the thing made my heart pound like a stressed-out hummingbird. “I always liked your confidence, Miss Levine.”

I wanted to scoff. If only he knew my “confidence” was a mask, covering up all my fears and everything I lacked. As if reading my mind, he said, “But I want something more than that.”

“Something more than my confidence?” I frowned.

“Yes. I want to know what’s not on the resume.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have a stack of capable candidates ready to take this position. People who have more experience, especially in this line of work. I know you were in politics. I know you have skills that would carry over into this kind of job. But why you, Paige? What makes you different?”

My throat closed. The answer was simple: I was desperate. Of course, I wouldn’t say that out loud. Usually, I’d spin this situation, this interview, to my advantage. But something about the way Leo looked at me made me feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like he could see straight to the heart of my problems and how I was drowning.