Operation One Night Stand (12 page)

T
he train ride into the city was not uncomfortable, unless of course you count the stale smell of sweat, resignation, and exhaustion.
Normally, I’d people-watch, but I was too preoccupied with new beginnings.
I dug my e-reader out of my bag, hoping to refresh myself with the manuscript I’d been assigned.
There was nothing I loved more than reading and I wasn’t a genre snob.
Give me a shampoo bottle and I’d read it.
Magazine?
Cover to cover.
Brand-spankin’-new manuscript that the rest of the world had never seen?
All day long.

Lost in the author’s impeccable world building, I barely registered the text message that chimed on my phone.
Melody.

Kick some publishing ass!
You’ll do great!

I smiled.
I honestly had the best friends in the world.
My circle was small but I couldn’t imagine my life without either Melody or Sarah.
It was like the universe knew no one else could tolerate us.

Before I could reply, a new message chimed through.

Good luck on your first day.

I smiled a bit but I had no idea who the message was from.

Thank you.
Who is this?

I stared at my phone.
It was two more stops before I received an answer.

Someone who loves checking out your ass.

Brian.
I had no idea how he got my number.
I could only assume Ryan gave it to him.
I couldn’t help but wonder why Ryan would give my number to his roommate.

I didn’t have much time to ruminate; my stop was next.
I packed up my things, pulled on my gloves, and checked out my face in my mirror.
I was pale but it was nothing a little lipstick and a text from Brian couldn’t brighten up.

I shuffled off the train, herded like cattle through tight corridors and powerless escalators.
It felt like hours before I finally emerged from the massive building into the sun.
I lined up with the rest of the worker bees for a taxi.
I was really going to have to figure out the subway system but, at that moment, I didn’t want to go back underground.
It wasn’t that far of a walk, but I hadn’t thought much about sensible footwear when I got ready earlier.
Plus, trudging through the slushy sidewalks was not my idea of a good time.
I was grateful to hop somewhat quickly into a cab.

It wasn’t long before I was dropped off in front of the building.
Taking it in, I nearly pinched myself.
Finally, a dream job I wouldn’t have to sell my soul for.
Double-checking my bag and fully confident I’d make my mark with this job, I walked in through the heavy glass doors.

“Hi.
Good morning.
My name is Caroline Frost.
Today’s my first day.
I am supposed to meet with Oscar Little.”

The receptionist picked up the phone and announced my arrival.

“Mr.
Little is expecting you.
Take the elevator to the twelfth floor.
He’ll meet you there.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck.”

I smiled, thankful she wasn’t a twenty-year-old intern.
I’d had enough of those in my life.

The twelfth floor pinged my arrival as the doors slid open and the most beautiful man I’d ever seen stood in front of the open doors talking with Mr.
Little.
Mr.
Little reminded me of my grandfather—tall, gray, and dressed in a well-tailored suit.
The other man wore Vans, a pair of distressed jeans that probably cost more than my entire outfit, an untucked white button-down, and a peacoat.
I couldn’t tell his age, other than he was maybe my age or possibly a little older.
With a mess of blond wavy hair, he looked as though he belonged on a beach somewhere instead of standing in an office building in the middle of the city.
He reminded me, a bit, of Jim from Kansas.
My lady parts woke up at the thought.

I hesitated a moment before stepping into the reception area of the floor.
Standing there, a little self-conscious, I wondered how I should make my presence known, since both men seemed to be deep in conversation.
So I did what anyone would do, I stepped closer and cringed as my phone went off.
I shoved my hand in my bag to silence it but not before both men turned toward me.

Mortified, I kept my face down until Mr.
Little said my name.
“Caroline Frost?”

Straightening myself out, I tried to recover but only squeaked out a tiny “yes.”
Certain my face was a million shades of red, I stuck out my hand.
“Hi, Mr.
Little.”

“Hello, dear.
Glad to see you again.
So happy you’re joining us.
This”—he gestured to the Adonis to my right—“is Michael Mortimer.”

I shook his hand, lost for a moment in his piercing chocolate brown eyes, while wondering why his name sounded so familiar.

“Nice to meet you, Mr.
Mortimer.”

His laugh was genuine.
“Please, call me Michael.
So, how’d you like my book?”

That was it!
He wrote the manuscript I’d been reading.

“I thought it was great, actually.
I didn’t know I’d be meeting you today.”
I snuck a side glance at Mr.
Little.

“Well, Mr.
Little here knows I am completely hands-on when it comes to my work.
I couldn’t let the opportunity to meet the person editing it pass me by since I was in town.
I do have to say, I didn’t think you’d be so young.”

What was he talking about?
He looked about the same age as me!

“Well, I guess that makes two of us, Mister, uh, Michael.
I will do my best to take care of your book.
I’ve been in contact with Ms.
Page, learning the ropes.”

“Well, I am looking forward to working with you.”

“Caroline,” said Mr.
Little, “we’ll have Holly show you around.
She’ll get you squared away with human resources.
Why don’t we meet back up at lunchtime, my office, and we’ll go over your first project?
Yolanda has been on a much needed vacation.
But I am glad to hear you’ve been in touch since the interview.”

“Sounds excellent.
I’m looking forward to it.”

Holly was a well-put-together woman who was, if I had to guess, in her early sixties.
With auburn hair, flawless skin, and sharp brown eyes, she motioned for me to walk with her.

“Until we meet again, Ms.
Frost.
I’d love to read your notes on my book.”
Michael nodded toward me and winked.
I had the distinct impression that he was checking me out.
So I added a little swing to my step.

“I’ll have those to you soon.”

Leaving the two men, I felt both overwhelmed and at home.
It was the first time since college that I felt as though I had some say over my direction.

Holly walked next to me as we made our way down the hall.
She opened a door at the end and motioned for me to enter.
A large desk topped with a fabulous flat computer screen was the only item, besides a couple of chairs, in the room.
Mostly empty bookshelves lined one of the walls.

“This”—Holly waved her arm—“is your office.”

“Office?
I think there is some mistake.”
I stepped through the room to the window.
Below, cars and taxis played chicken with pedestrians.

“Mr.
Mortimer is an important client.
He expects the best from the people that work with him.
And since you were handpicked—”

“Handpicked?
I just got the job!”

“I only know what I’m told, dear.
You can place your things in here.
Later you and I can go over what else you’ll need to make the space workable for you.
For now, there are a few trade books on the shelves, copies of Mr.
Mortimer’s first two novels and a few other things that were left here by the last assistant editor.”

“But I don’t understand.”

Holly’s eyes warmed.
“I’ve learned over the years, sweetie, that when something wonderful and unexpected happens, you should never question it.
Now, you can leave your things here.
I’ll take you to human resources.”

The rest of the morning passed like a whirlwind.
Books and files were brought into my office, I met and shook hands with everyone I’d be working with.
It was the most amazing place I’d ever worked.
And I hadn’t even clocked in a full day!

I had about a half hour before I had to meet Mr.
Little in his office.
I picked up the phone and dialed Melody’s office.

“Melody Ashford.”

“Mel, I swear to God I work in Bizarro World.
Everyone here is so freaking happy, so nice.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“I know, right?
I honestly am not sure if any of these people speak sarcasm or snark.”

“Imagine working in a place where people are nice.
I feel bad for you.”

“See!
That comment right there!
I know you’re being sarcastic but the people here, I honestly think they’re too nice to see that.”

I could tell Melody thought I was off my rocker.
I wasn’t complaining, not in the least.
I think I was more surprised than anything else.

“Oh!
And I met Michael Mortimer today.”

“And Michael Mortimer is…”

“The guy who wrote the manuscript I’ve been reading.
And Mel, he’s hot.”

“Then put a bull’s-eye on his ass and make him a target!”

“I can’t do that.
I work with him, or will be working with him.
And besides, it’s not the point.
I have an office, too!”

“No cubicle?”

“Nope.”

“Are they hiring?”

“I can check.”

“Kidding.
Look I have to run to a meeting with my boss to discuss the financials of the merger.
Have fun and fill me in later.
Drinks at Murphy’s?”

Murphy’s?
“Sure, yeah.
I guess.
See you then.
We can discuss my date with Ryan on Friday.”

“I almost forgot about that.
Yes.
We will discuss.
Talk later, doll face.”

“Later.”

I could feel my cheeks flush and butterflies rouse to life in my stomach.
I wasn’t sure I was ready to go back to Murphy’s.
I would undoubtedly see Brian.
Then again, what did it really matter?

Making my way to Mr.
Little’s office, I took my time and absorbed everything around me.
People were laughing, smiling, and having fun.
A complete one-eighty from my previous job.
Working at the law firm, looking back, was like dealing with a different crisis every other minute.
Always so serious, always so cold.
Everyone there was looking for someone else to stand on while they climbed their way to the top.
That was never my style and I should have seen it.
Unfortunately I was so blinded by my relationship with Steven that I failed to see the job was slowly sucking the life out of me.
I have no idea how anyone could live and thrive in that environment.

Holly waved me into Mr.
Little’s office.
He was on the phone but motioned for me to take a seat across from him.
As soon as he clicked off, all his attention was on me.

“So, Caroline, it’s been only a few hours but how’s your first day been so far?”

“It’s been great.
Better than great, actually.
Everyone is so nice and helpful.
And I had no idea I’d have my own office.”

“Well, it’s a small office.
We try to make everyone feel at home.
We like to treat everyone so they feel like part of a family.
The office is just a way of our saying thank you.
You came highly recommended and anything I can do to make your transition easier, let me know.
And of course you’ll be assisting Mortimer’s editor.
As a matter of fact, she’ll be joining us for lunch.”