o n e

“I am keeping the damn succulent!” I gently place my sweet Stella on top of the banker’s box which is full to the brim of my belongings.

Over the last three years, I have somehow managed to accumulate seven mugs, four pairs of workout leggings, three water bottles, and thirteen lip glosses. I should’ve cleaned my desk more frequently; I’ve been buying the same Buxom gloss every two months thinking I lost it. Well, maybe this is the bright side to all of this. I may not have a job anymore, but hey, at least my lips will be plump and shiny for years to come !

“But that belongs to the company, Cassie.” My bitchy ex-co-worker reaches into my box and grabs my baby. I knew Ingrid always hated me. Every time we had our weekly Monday morning meeting she would scowl at me like she was sucking an extremely sour Warhead. The fact she’s acting like a treacherous witch right now is not surprising. “You can’t take the plant.”

My mouth drops. She’s only talking to me like this because New Vision Press decided to keep her on instead of me. Poor Ingrid thinks it’s because she’s a valuable employee but I’m sure it’s because she makes half of my salary. NVP laid off thirty staff members today due to budget cuts and the atmosphere in the office has been tense, to say the least.  

“I have been watering her and loving her for years! What has the company done for Stella? Huh? Nothing!” I yank the Calico Hearts out of her weasely little fingers. “She’s mine.”

Ingrid rolls her eyes like a petulant child. “If you take it, I’ll tell management.”

My lip twitches at her vile disregard for the fact that I trained her! That I molded her! I even got her a freaking Fitbit for her birthday with custom straps ! I lock my jaw to prevent myself from exploding. Yogi Zeena’s mantra floats around my livid mind: You are at peace and peace is with you, you are at peace and peace is with you .

“Also, that stapler is not yours,” she adds with a smug smile.

A long squeaky whimper escapes the back of my throat. No! She will not bait me. I am at peace for God’s sake! Ingrid attempts to retrieve my bejeweled stapler and I swat her hand away. No! I’ve lost the peace . “Get your hands off of Stanley,” I say through my teeth.

Ingrid scoffs and rubs her hand, feigning an injury. Oh no, I tapped her hand, someone call the police! “You know that it’s really weird that you name all your stuff, right?”

I force a smile. “You know what’s even weirder? Your face !” I flip my hair and storm out of the empty office. I can’t believe I just sunk down to her level.

Making my way to the elevator, I focus my attention on the grey marble tiles in front of me and not on the fact that I just co-signed a one year lease at a new condo or the fact that I have zero savings or the fact that I might have just lost a reference. No, those things are not on my mind. They’re not! I shimmy the box up my thigh to steady it and press the button to the lobby.

One would think that working at a corporation whose entire HR policy revolves around nurturing talent, laying off long-term employees would be a big no-no. I gave up New York for this dumb job, I gave up adventures in the Big Apple and walks in Central Park, for what? So I could live in cold and wet Seattle? So I can get fired right before my salary review? So Ingrid could hang her stupid embroidered cat paintings in my office? My corner office…with a view. I saw the way she was eyeing my desk like a corporate vulture when I was packing up. God, I can’t believe this is happening. I didn’t slave away at college for years to be treated like this! I didn’t work countless overtime and weekends to get laid off!

I let out a shaky exhale. No, it’s fine, relax. Everything will be fine. It’s their loss. If they want to keep ‘can’t figure out to how scan multiple documents at once’ Ingrid and not me, then that’s their prerogative. Good riddance I say. Onto bigger and better things.

The elevator pings and the doors open. Joel at the security desk gives me a sympathetic smile and waves me over. Oh great, the pity farewell.

“Cassandra, dear, not you too.” He hangs his head, genuine disappointment catches his features. “And you and Monique just got a new apartment and everything. Oh, this is awful, truly terrible.”

Oh, I hadn’t even thought about Monique. She’s going to freak out. I was the one who insisted we move into a bigger place, one with insuite laundry and a functional dishwasher. How am I going to tell her I might not be able to make rent next month? It’s not like she can support both of us on an ESL instructor’s salary.

“I’ll be fine Jo, really,” I comfort the sixty-year-old man, patting him on the shoulder. He doesn’t need to know that I’m utterly fucked right now. “I have options, I do. Don’t worry about me. Just promise me you’ll keep doing your daily stretches and drink eight cups of water a day.”

“I will, I promise.” Joel lifts up this teal water bottle that has the time and motivational phrases etched on the side. “This bottle you got me sure is a big help, the hourly reminders really do keep me on track.”

“That’s great, Jo!” I smile warmly. I’m going to miss Joel and our weekly tuna salad sandwich lunch dates. “Well, I suppose this is it. Take care, ok?”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” he asks with a frown.

Straightening out my shoulders, I take a deep steadying breath. “I always am!”

The sound of my Manolo Blahnik heels clicking on the tile floor echoes through the building as I exit through the revolving doors. I’m going to miss the acoustics in this office. There’s something about the sound of designer heels stomping against a cold and hard surface that just makes a girl feel powerful.

“But we’re going to be just fine, Stella,” I whisper, peering into the banker’s box. “And you Stanley, aren’t you glad you get to go home with me and not stay with that evil Ingrid? I just know she’d pluck off all your jewels! You were born to shine, Stanley, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!”

As I descend the final stair and step onto the sidewalk, a rock hard body collides with my shoulder, the force causing Stella to fly out of the box, spilling and shattering on the dirty streets of downtown Seattle.

“No!” I shriek, dropping down to my knees. “Stella!”

Her pot is cracked, soil sprawled about, her little flower petals bent and broken, mirroring the state of my heart. I crane my neck upward menacingly slowly towards the source of the destruction.

On an ordinary day, the man hovering above me would be someone that I’d slip my number to; slim fitted black suit, Haute Couture probably, strong build, wide shoulders, aviator sunglasses, slicked-back charcoal hair, and a chiseled jaw speckled with stubble, but today, he looks like death incarnate.

“You!” I jump up, dusting my hands against my cream-colored pants suit. “You killed Stella.”

“I beg your pardon?” the man asks, confusion capturing his ruggedly handsome features.

“My plant!” I point to the ground, my blood boiling with grief and anger. Peace, who?

“Oh,” he hums with a faint smirk. “Perhaps in the future, you should watch where you’re going. That way you can avoid any more…botanical deaths.”

“You crashed into me!” I exclaim, crossing my arms. The nerve of this gorgeous oaf! I will never be able to look at Armani suits the same ever again!

“Prove it,” he demands with a hint of amusement in his voice. “What is your evidence?”

I huff. Evidence? Is he serious? “I can requisition the CCTV footage if you’d like.” I point to the cameras in the front of the office tower.

“Please, go ahead,” he responds confidently. “I’ll wait here.”

He knows quite well that I’m not actually going to go through with it. “Can’t you just say sorry?” I ask, glaring at him, my reflection visible in his sunglasses. I tuck a wayward piece of hair behind my ear. Goodness, I look like a mess right now. I’m going to have to get my hair done later this week, my ash blonde highlights are starting to look a tad brassy. Maybe I’ll get a massage as well, for the sake of restoring my zen.

The man chuckles lightly. What?! He’s laughing? Clearly, he’s a sociopath, feeding off of my distress. “I am so sorry for your loss,” he says.

This guy! I scoop up what’s left of Stella and place her beside Stanley. Maybe I can re-pot her at home, perhaps she still has some life left in her. Grabbing the handles of the box, I turn on my heel. I’ve had enough of this asshole.

“Good day, sir,” I seeth. Before I can take a step forward the bottom of the box gives out, littering the ground with all my stuff. I freeze and stare off into the distance, trying to fight back tears.

Today is not my day.

On the corner of the street is a flower kiosk, I slowly walk towards it, my body limp with defeat. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why… ?

“What are you doing?” the man asks in a concerned tone.

“Oh, you know, just going to walk into oncoming traffic,” I answer completely deadpan. 

“What?” The man grabs my shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed. “Please don’t do that! I’m truly sorry about your plant.”

“I’m joking.” I roll my eyes, shaking off his large hand. “I’m getting a plastic bag from the florist.”

“Oh,” he hums, following me to the stand. “You really shouldn’t joke about things like that.”

“Whatever,” I sigh, turning my attention to the young woman with a Lord Farquaad haircut selling bouquets of flowers. “Hi, there. Can I please have a plastic bag?” I point to all my shit sprawled on the sidewalk. “My box broke.”

“Awe, that sucks! For sure you can. It’ll be twenty-five cents.” She holds out her hand.

I miss when bags used to be free. I fumble around my purse. Damn it! I sheepishly meet her eyes. “Can I pay on Visa? I don’t have any cash.”

She sucks in her breath. “Oh, sorry. We don’t take card payments under five dollars.”

“Ok.” I force a smile, my entire body tensing. “Is there anything here that I can buy five for dollars?”

“Unfortunately all of our arrangements are twenty dollars and up.”

“What?!” I blink rapidly, my vision slowly turning red. “You’re telling me that I need to spend twenty dollars on flowers, I don’t need or want, just so I can have a plastic bag?! Are you serious?!”

“Here.” Stella’s murderer holds out a one-dollar bill. “Please take it. Consider it compensation for your troubles.”

“Why are you still here?” I ask, my irritation flaring. “Perhaps you’d like to destroy all these pretty flowers as well.”

“I’m here because, and I mean no offense, you seem slightly unhinged,” he says in a low voice so only I can hear him.

My jaw drops. “ Unhinged ?!“ I exclaim, every fiber of my being jolted in extreme offense.

“Yes,” he states matter-of-factly, handing the attendant the crisp dollar bill. “I’m afraid you might do something rash.”

    The bouquet bitch hands me a plastic bag. I snatch it from her, refusing to meet her judgemental eyes. “What makes you think I would do something rash?” I whisper harshly, walking back to the scene of the crime.

    “Well, you were talking to an inanimate object earlier and did threaten to throw yourself into oncoming traffic.”

    Shit.

    He’s not wrong. That behavior does teeter the line between sane and insane. Oh…maybe I am unhinged. What an unwelcome realization.

I force a meek smile. “I appreciate your concern but I am fine.” I stuff my belongings in the bag and loop it through my arm. “I’ll be going now.”

    The man hands me seventy-five cents. “For the funeral arrangements,” he smirks. I narrow my eyes in utter disbelief. He thinks this is a joke!

    “Plants are living organisms, they eat, grow, and reproduce. They deserve respect,” I inform him, grabbing the change from his hand and tossing it into the hat of a nearby homeless person. “Goodbye, you small-minded simpleton!” Some people!

    I can sense his eyes burrowing into my back as I head in the direction of the bus stop. I groan inwardly. The bus . This is the new normal now I suppose. One of the best perks of being a Senior Events Coordinator at NVP was access to the company car. We held book signings, fairs, and press conferences all over the city, so a car was a necessity. I don’t think Ingrid even has a driver’s license. Why in the hell did they keep her? Is saving money that much more important than competent staff? No, whatever, enough of this pity party! I wish Ingrid and her split ends nothing but the best.

    I’m sure that everything will work. It has to, right? People say it’s always darkest before the dawn. I bite my lip. I just hope my roommate is a fan of proverbs.

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t w o

“Cassandra Michelle Carrington!” The fierceness in Monique’s voice causes my entire body to tremble, a lone slice of cucumber slides down my cheek and onto my chest. “What are you doing?”

I twist my neck and squint. “Relaxing?” I say hesitantly, popping both cucumbers into my mouth. Ew, I think I just ate some face mask residue. My gaze shifts to the digital clock on our PVR console. Damn, she came home early, it’s only 7 pm. Her classes usually go late on Fridays. I hope she didn’t come home just to yell at me. I knew I shouldn’t have texted her with my news. I made sure to include a shit ton of emojis to soften the blow. Can’t get mad at a smiley face.

“You just got fired and you’re lying here in pajamas listening to Usher ?” Monique shakes her head, her voluminous tight curls swaying with the motion. “You should be looking for a job, Cass!”

Wow, straight to it . “First of all, I wasn’t fired! I was laid off. There is a big difference.” I sit up, dusting the chocolate chip cookie crumbs off of my shirt. “Secondly, I think that taking a few hours to unwind after such a stressful day is within my right!” Our entire dining room table is covered in dirt from my attempt to revive poor Stella. I won’t know for a week or so if my surgical skills were successful, but I’m hopeful that she’ll make a full recovery.  

“Cass, come on. You told me you’d look for a job as soon as you finished with your little DIY spa session, that was four hours ago. I’m not trying to be pushy or mean, but we have rent due in three weeks.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll have you know that I did take a few minutes to look for a job earlier.”

    “Really? On what website?” Monique purses her full lips, her foot tapping repeatedly on our walnut hardwood floor.

I hope she doesn’t scratch the wood with her shoes. We had to search high and low for a condo that had real hardwood, not that laminate garbage. Truthfully, Monique didn’t care but I figured if the interiors are designed with good quality material so must the exterior. Living on the 26th floor in a region that’s expecting a giant earthquake any day is terrifying. Even though rent is crazy high, I like knowing that this building is seismically sound.

“It wasn’t like a traditional website, per se-” I hesitate watching Monique’s expression tighten. I’m sensing she might not appreciate my out-of-the-box thinking. “I just sent an SOS into the Twittersphere.”

    “Cassie! How is tweeting going to help you?” Monique pinches the bridge of her nose, walking over to the kitchen island. She pours herself a glass of wine from the half empty bottle before sitting down on a bar chair.

My mother once told me that a good Chianti can fix anything. Mother’s are never wrong. And personally, I’m feeling much better.

    “I have over three thousand followers,” I defend myself. “One of them is bound to see my tweet, DM me, and offer me a job.”

That’s how I got my job at NVP. I was in my final year of college and was desperate to find an internship. I ended up posting a Facebook status asking if people had any leads. One girl messaged me about New Vision Press, and I ended up getting the job. Once I finished my degree they offered me a full-time position. I did have several other offers, including a couple in New York, but I chose to stay in Seattle with my best friend.

“Cassie…” Monique closes her eyes, clearly exhausted. She must have had a long day at work. Her working hours aren’t confined to her teaching hours. Not only does she teach classes and mark homework, but she also conducts weekly check-ins with all her students and takes them on field trips around the city. “You need to go on a real job site and look for options. You can’t just rely on pure luck!”

“It’s not luck, Mon! It’s networking. I have tons of professional contacts on my Twitter. Richard Brixton, the author, is even following me.” I laugh. “He actually retweeted me last week. I posted this hilarious anecdote about-”

“Cass, stop! This isn’t funny. Are you going to be able to pay your share next month or not?” Monique’s tone is gentle but she’s definitely getting annoyed with me. 

“Yes, of course,” I half lie. “I’ll just have to return the pink Bird scooters I bought last week.” And maybe that adorable pair of Jimmy Choos. I hate returning shit at Nordstrom, they always make me feel guilty and I end up just buying more stuff. I swear their sales strategy implements elements of  Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. It’s like they can smell my hesitation whenever I pull out a receipt. 

“You bought yourself a Bird? Those cost like a thousand dollars!” Monique’s judgemental tone stings me. 

“I bought us Birds and they were on sale.” I blame this purchase on the spies living in my phone. I was talking about electric scooters at work last week and before I knew it, ads kept popping up on my Facebook page. They just made the ‘click here to purchase’ button so big, I was truly helpless. “I was going to give it to you for your birthday next weekend.”

I have this adorable scavenger hunt planned for her around the city. The Bird would have made getting around town much easier than walking or taking the dreadful bus .

Monique sighs, walking over to join me on our La-Z-Boy couch. She wraps her arms around my shoulder, pulling me affectionately towards her. “Sweetie, listen. I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but you need to wake up and smell the roses. You can’t keep buying shit just because you want to.”

“Why not?” I ask, my voice wavering. “What’s the point of busting my ass every day at work if I can’t use my income to enjoy life?” 

“You’re allowed to enjoy life but you need to live within your means,” Monique says, handing me her glass of wine. 

“I do live within my means. I never miss any credit card payments, I’ve never paid my bills late, and I always have rent money,” I retort, taking a sip of wine. “It’s not like I knew I was going to get laid off. How could I see that coming? Management was just bragging how well we did last quarter. I’m not sure if the New Vision Press CEO made some poor investments or what, but I genuinely did not know the company was struggling.”

“I get that, Cassie, I do. But you need to have some sort of contingency plan in case of emergencies. What are you going to do if you get sick?” Monique asks. Oh, no…I don’t have health insurance now that I’m unemployed. This sucks. I’m going to have to pay for massages out of pocket. “Do you have a savings account?” she adds softly. I groan inwardly. I feel like I’m talking to my dad right now.

“Yes, I do have a savings account! It’s just a little… naked right now.” I opened an account last year to put money away to go to New Orleans with Monique to visit her grandparents. Our trip just so happened to coincide with Mardi Gras. We did save a lot of money on food that trip though; her nana made us Louisiana BBQ almost every night. However, I did end up making a lot of impulsive and alcohol induced purchases, but whatever, I was on vacation, girl’s got to live. We returned to Seattle five pounds heavier and several hundred dollars poorer. “Mon, I love you and I get that you’re concerned but you just gotta trust me. I’ll get a job, I promise.”

“Okay, fine. I trust you,” Monique smiles but her honey brown eyes indicate she’s still worried. “I guess in the worst case scenario I could dip into my savings and cover you next month.”

“No way! I would never ask you to do that. If I’m still short I’ll just borrow some money from my parents.”

The idea of reaching out to my dad leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Even though my parents are relatively well-off, I don’t want to be a twenty-four year old mooch. I’m sure they’d happily help me but I’d rather not tell them I lost my job. My dad would lecture me about the importance of job stability and how I need to get my shit together. He’d probably completely sidestep the fact that I was the youngest Senior Coordinator at NVP and just focus on the fact I’m now unemployed. He’s always been career-centric. Growing up with a workaholic dad wasn’t easy. He would often trade in time with me for time in the office. He did manage to retire before fifty-five though, so I suppose it was a justifiable sacrifice on his front.

“Oh, Cass…What am I going to do with you?” Monique sighs. “ Mon Dieu …“

“I’m sorry, Monique! Please don’t worry.” I hug my best friend, swaying her side to side. Her perfectly shaped furrowed brows send a knot of guilt into the pit of my stomach. The last thing I want to do is bring unnecessary stress into her life. “Let’s just drop this topic for the time being, okay? Tell me about your day. Anything eventful happen? How’d Ryoko do on her test? You were worried she was struggling, right?”

Monique’s demeanor lightens as she talks about her students and the latest conversational exercises she created for her class. She’s wanted to be a teacher since we were teenagers. Monique helped me with my homework and projects all through high school. Even when I had trouble concentrating or concepts seemed too difficult to grasp, she would be patient with me and always made sure I’d finish. Teaching ESL at a language school is a perfect fit for this caring angel.

It also helps that she’s trilingual herself, she speaks French, Spanish and English. It’s really fun having a best friend who can yell at you in three languages. She only uses Spanish when I really mess up, like the time I told her we were going on a sightseeing plane ride but it ended up being bungee jumping. Yeah…she wasn’t too thrilled with me that day, but man, was it fun.

As Monique is showing me pictures from the field trip she took her students on to Pike Place Market, she gets a text notification. “Axel’s asking if we’re still going to Jux tonight?” Monique asks, reading the message. “ Roxie’s performing.“ She shimmies her shoulders. 

“Oh my God, I completely forgot that was tonight!” I leap off the couch, my body vibrating with excitement. Axel’s been pumping this day up for months. “There is no way we’re missing her debut. Kai’s been practicing for God knows how long. We’re definitely going.”

Monique types out a response on her phone and then tosses it on our antique coffee table. “Okay, we should start getting ready…” Monique bites her lip, eyeing me carefully.

“What?” I ask, rolling my head backward.

“Don’t spend too much money tonight.”

“You know I moved out of my parents’ house to get away from the nagging,” I joke. “Little did I know I was trading one mother for another.”

Monique swats at my shoulder, grinning. “Hey, I am not being a mom right! I’m more like a cool aunt.”

“Right, we’ll go with that,” I snort, patting my face. “Okay, I need to wash this mask off before it stains my face. I don’t wanna look like Cheeto tonight.”

Monique laughs, following me to the bathroom. “Alright my little Oompa Loompa, you have an hour to get ready.”

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t h r e e

No amount of RuPaul’s Drag Race could have prepared me for what I experienced tonight. The entire bar was buzzing with positive and vibrant energy. During each performance my mouth was hung open in awe of the skills these queens possess. From the extravagant outfits, to the impeccable make-up, acrobatic finesse, and lip syncing talent, for a full hour, I thought I died and went to entertainment heaven.

“Holy shit, Kai!” I yell over the thumping loud house music. “That was phenomenal! I didn’t know you were so limber!”

Kai lets out a boisterous laugh. “Years of yoga, honey!”

Funny, I’ve been doing yoga for years myself and yet I can’t do the splits standing up. I look over at Axel, my eyes still wide in amazement. “Your boyfriend blew my fucking mind!”

Monique and I met Axel and Kai a year ago at a social the University of Washington held for alumni. They were two of the best dressed attendees there, so I just had to go up and introduce myself. It’s not every day that you meet people with the same love of runway fashion as you. We automatically hit it off and now they’re two of my closest friends.

When Kai announced he was going to enter an amateur drag queen competition, Mon and I were completely floored. Not because we didn’t think he could do it, but because we were shocked he wasn’t already a star. Kai’s got the energy of a thousand burning suns and the stage presence of a sassy Goddess. His drag queen name is Roxie Dart, inspired by Renee Zellwegger’s character in the movie Chicago. I think Kai’s been wanting to explore this side of himself for a while but he works at a high-end brokerage firm, so I think he was nervous about his co-workers finding out. But seeing as three of his colleagues are sitting at our table, I’m thinking they’re not as close-minded as Kai thought they were.

“I was pretty fucking great, wasn’t I?” Kai laughs, handing everyone at the table a shot of vodka. “Cheers to me, I guess!”

We all down the vodka in unison. I’ve only spent twenty-five dollars tonight, which is an all-time record at Jux. I mean, I’m not as drunk as I’d like to be, but at least Monique isn’t shooting me death glares.

“So, are you going to keep performing here? Or was this just a one-time thing?” Monique asks. Kai told us he has a bucket list with things he wants to do before he’s thirty and I guess performing in drag was one of them.

“I had so much fun but holy crap, the amount of hours I spent rehearsing was insane! I don’t think I have enough time to do this every week, not when I work like sixty hours a week,” Kai explains.

A server stops by the table and hands me a cosmopolitan. I narrow my eyes in confusion. “I didn’t order this,” I inform her.

She nods towards the other side of the bar. “It’s from the guy in the blue shirt.”

“Oh,” I hum, fluttering my eyelashes. Guy in the blue shirt looks like the poster boy for a surf brand; messy blonde hair, tanned skin, and pearly whites that are blinding even from here. I pull out a scrap piece of paper from my purse, jot down my number and name, and hand it to our waitress. “You can give him this.”

My friends stare at me as I take a slow sip of my idol Carrie Bradshaw’s favorite drink. After I watched Sex in the City, I stocked up on Vogue magazines and overhauled my entire wardrobe. I’m not too sure how Carrie managed to live in a Brownstone and purchase Manolos on her salary, but I guess it’s fiction, so I try not to think too hard about it.

“Ooo,” Axel sings, an infectious grin catching his Scandinavian features. Seriously, he looks like a clean-cut Viking. “Cassie’s on the prowl.”

“I’m not on the prowl, but I’m not going to turn down a potentially fun night with surfer boy Ken over there.” I glance over briefly to check if he’s still looking at me. He is . I flip my wavy hair in a flirtatious manner and smile at him.

“Wait,” Kai frowns, popping a french fry into his dolled up mouth. “Weren’t you seeing that editor? What’s his name…” Kai’s eyebrows squeeze together. “Brody or something?”

“Yeah, but we broke up last week,” I state casually. I met Brody when NVP hosted a private book signing for one of our authors. He was tall, cute, and funny and we dated for several months. He could do this thing with his mouth that should be borderline illegal, hell, it might be in Texas. It was going extremely well until he suggested that we move in together. Who moves in together after six months of dating? “He got a little too.. .attached , so I had to cut the cord.”

Monique rolls her eyes. Oh, here we go . “Wow Cassie, with the amount of cords you cut, people might start mistaking you for an obstetrician.”

Rude!

“I resent that!” I exclaim. Axel and Kai snicker behind their pints of lager. I glare at them. Traitors! “It’s not like I date these guys knowing I’m going to break up with them, okay? It’s just, something usually comes up, and then I stop feeling it. Am I supposed to drag out a relationship when my heart’s not in it anymore? Huh?”

“I agree with Cass,” Axel jumps in. “If she were a guy, no one would bat an eye.” He smirks at me, clicking his drink against mine. “You do you, girl.”

“Thank you! At least I have one friend here,” I joke. Axel’s usually on my side whenever Kai and Mon go all Dr. Phil on me. He and I have a very similar outlook on life; live it!

“Okay, but one of these days you’re going to have to put in the work. Relationships aren’t always smooth sailing, sometimes you’ll hit choppy water,” Monique says in a philosophical tone.

“Good thing I stick to boating on lakes,” I laugh, my martini glass vibrating along. “Much calmer waters and far less work.”

Monique is about to say something when Kai lets out a long exaggerated gasp. “Oh my God, I almost forgot!” 

“What?” I ask, mentally thanking Kai for cutting Monique’s moment of wisdom short. She and I have been friends for nearly ten years, whatever she was going to say, I’ve most likely heard it before.

“I saw your tweet earlier. You lost your job, right?” Kai asks, digging around his wallet. “Here.” He hands me a business card. “My sister works in HR at a firm downtown and she’s been complaining for weeks that they can’t find someone to cover a six-month maternity leave. Apparently, it’s hard to find someone for a short term position. Send her your resume, Nadine will hire you on the spot.”

I whip my head and toss my skeptical roommate a triumphant smirk. “See? Twitter! It works!” I look down and read the business card. My smirk fades into a deep frown. “It’s a law firm? I didn’t know they had event coordinators.”

“Oh, the position is for a Personal Assistant to one of their senior associates,” Kai clarifies. “Basically you’d handle their calendar, schedule meetings, and do general admin shit.” I give Kai a questionable look. He seems to know a lot about this job. “I have a PA, that’s what she does for me.”

“I guess working at a law firm could be fun. I wonder if I’ll get to tag along and interview witnesses.” A wave of excitement washes over my body. “Oh my God, I could be like Rachel from Suits!”

“Honey, this isn’t a criminal law firm. It’s corporate law. Like mergers and acquisitions?” Kai laughs. “Plus, Rachel was a paralegal not a PA, big difference.” 

“Oh…” I huff in disappointment. “Mergers and acquisitions? That sounds so dry.”

Monique grabs the card out of my hand and pulls out her phone. “Cassie, it’s a job that’s available right now . Who cares if it’s dry? It’s only six months. You can look for a job in events while you’re working there,” Mon says, not looking up from her phone. What is she searching? “This is actually perfect. You can take your time finding a job you really love and you’ll be taking home a paycheck. It’s a win-win.”

I bite my lip as I think. “I suppose I can survive six months. How hard could being a PA be?” I turn to Kai. “Is there a lot of spreadsheets involved? Cause I’m not the biggest fan of Excel.”

At NVP, I would manage our timelines and budget but I had our junior coordinators input all the numbers and account information. I know how to do it myself but I find the task so monotonous. One time we had a girl go on sick leave so I had to do all the entries myself, and by Friday I was convinced I had carpal tunnel.

Axel and Kai chuckles. “I’m not sure how it works in a law firm but yes, my assistant does a lot of data tracking for me,” Kai answers. “Honestly Cass you should just do it. Nadine can probably interview you over Skype tomorrow, that’s how desperate they are.”

“Hey, Kai?” Monique asks slowly, her eyes still glued to her phone. “What’s the name of the lawyer Cass would work for?”

“Uh…” Kai stammers, looking sideways. I can see the gears spinning in his head. “I think it started with an A? I remember the last name sounded kind of Spanish.”

“Does the name Adrian Cavallero ring a bell?” Mon asks, her eyes growing wide and a knowing grin forming on her face. What is going on?

“Yeah, that sounds familiar,” Kai confirms. “Why?”

Monique laughs. “Cassie, I think you’re gonna wanna see this.” She holds out her phone. “I don’t think this job’s going to be dry.”

“What?” I grab the device. She’s on the Pearson & Associates website on the ‘Meet the Team’ tab. A few profiles have no pictures but the one she’s zoomed in on is… holy shit. My jaw drops. This is how lawyers look these days? No fucking way. Adrian’s sexy deep brown eyes stare at me through the screen. His mildly dark complexion and pristine bone structure force me to lean in closer, my face mere inches away from the screen. “How does his hair look messy yet totally styled?” I mutter to myself. “This must be photoshopped.”

Axel yanks Monique’s phone out of my hand. “Well hello there daddy!” He coos, his eyes wide as mine. “Look, babe.” He tilts the phone towards Kai.

“Oh my God!” Kai laughs. “You are so taking this job. Because if you don’t, I will .”

Axel smacks Kai’s shoulder and pouts. “Excuse me!”

Kai rolls his eyes. “I’m joking, I’m joking.” He nudges Axel playfully. “You know I only date blondes!”

“Okay, enough gawking boys. Give me back my phone.” Kai hands Mon back her iPhone. “So?” Monique asks me, a smug smile on her face. “Are you going to send Nadine your resume?”

“Send it?” I chuckle. My mind still frazzled from the gorgeousness of lawyer man. “I’m going to hand-deliver that shit. What’s your sister’s address, Kai?”

“Okay, real talk for a second,” Monique interjects. “If you get the job, you know you can’t actually sleep with him, right?”

“I know that,” I lie. They don’t need to know what happens behind closed office doors.

“Cassie, I’m serious,” she says. “You could get fired.”

“Jesus Monique, I’m not even hired yet and you’re already talking about me getting fired. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I can keep it in my pants, you know?”

“Oh honey, but what about on the days you wear skirts ?” Axel quips, smirking.

“Wow,” I say in a drawn out-breath. “Nice to know that you think I’m a slut.”

“You’re not a slut babe, but you’re also not a nun,” Axel laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll pray for you.”

“Me too,” Kai chuckles. “May the chastity gods be with you.”

“Thanks for that,” I scowl, turning my head to Monique. “Anything you’d like to add to this week’s roast? Hmm?”

Monique’s eyes crinkle as she tries not to smile. God, my friends are dicks. “No, I think Kai and Axel covered it all.”

A server brings over four shots of whatever Kai ordered when I wasn’t paying attention. “To Cassie! May her legs stay closed!” Axel jokes, holding his shot up in the air.  

“To Cassie!” Kai and Monique shout in unison and down their drinks.

I reluctantly take my shot. “You guys suck,” I murmur.

“We do,” Kai agrees with a cheeky grin. “You just have to remember not to !”

I need new friends.

---

Thanks for reading! Don’t forget to vote! Who thinks Cassie will be able to keep it in her pants? LOL

f o u r

Carpet.

This office has carpeted flooring. Am I being punished? Did I do something to anger the gods? Is this karma for being rude to Ingrid?

Dear lord.

Walking on carpet in high heels makes me feel like a baby deer - wobbly and uncoordinated - two things that I most certainly am not .

According to Nadine, the Managing Partner just recently replaced the flooring; because apparently ‘carpets reduce noise and thus heighten employee productivity’. I nearly quit right there and then. He sounds like a complete dud. But then I thought about Monique and our dreamy condo and decided to make a sacrifice. I suppose it’s time to invest in a pair of… flats .

I’m surprised I’m even here right now. I guess Kai wasn’t joking when he said they were desperate to hire someone. I sent Nadine an email Saturday morning and by dinner time I had a job. We went through all the motions of an interview but we did it through Zoom. She only asked me about half a dozen questions, most of them simply required a yes or no answer. Can you use a computer? Yes. Do you know how to use a scanner? Yes. Can you multitask? Yes. Can you start on Monday? Hell yes.

Nadine guides me through the barren and eerily white hallways of Pearson & Associates to her office. The firm is located in a tower in the center of downtown. The view from the fifteenth floor is spectacular but the lack of personality and aesthetic in the office itself leaves much to be desired. There are no paintings, decorative plants, or even a color scheme; everything is black, white, and grey. Those aren’t colors, they’re shades, and shades are bo-ring. Not to mention that every private office has glass walls which means no privacy at all. There are blinds on the inside but no one seems to be using them. We pass a row of cubicles set up in the middle of the office, I’m assuming that’s where all the assistants sit.

Once we’re in her office, Nadine hands me several stapled documents.“This is your contract.” She flips to the second page. “As discussed your salary is stipulated in paragraph 2 subsection B. All you need to do is sign at the bottom of each page and we’re good to go.”

If I knew personal assistants made this much money I would’ve swapped my Bachelor’s degree for a Diploma in Administration and called it a day. Thanks to this salary, the Jimmy Choos can stay.

I initial every required section and hand the contract back to the firm’s HR manager. The faster I sign these documents the sooner I can confirm whether Adrian Cavallero is as good looking in person as he is online. I’m still convinced that his picture is heavily edited. I perused the company website thoroughly on Sunday to ensure that I didn’t walk in here today utterly clueless. I learned that in addition to mergers and acquisitions, this firm handles intellectual property, information technology, and cybersecurity. My eyes started to glaze over once I began Googling what the hell any of that meant. Needless to say, I pray that no one asks me to explain any of those terms.

“Alright, thank you, Cassandra,” Nadine says, double-checking the document. Not in a million years would I have guessed she’s related to Kai. Aside from their thick black hair and olive complexion, they are nothing alike. Nadine reminds me of my high school librarian: quiet and sweet. Whereas Kai is like a walking tornado, not that he’s destructive, but if he’s in a room, you’d notice him. “Another one of our PA’s, Kitty, will give you a full tour of the office and help you get settled in. Mr. Cavallero is currently off-site so you’ll be able to get acquainted with him later.”

Nadine gestures towards her door where a young red-headed woman with giant green eyes is standing. That must be… Kitty . What the fuck kind of name is that? I guess I know who to question if my tuna salad sandwiches ever go missing from the communal fridge.

“Kitty, this is Cassandra, she will be filling in as Mr. Cavallero’s PA while Janet is on maternity leave,” Nadine says, standing up.

I follow suit and extend my hand out to the freckled-face girl with immaculate contouring skills; seriously, those cheekbones? Dang. “You can call me Cassie,” I state with a soft smile. Kitty shakes the tips of my fingers. Alright then… someone didn’t read The Art of the Handshake in last month’s Cosmo.

“I trust you can take it from here?” Nadine asks Kitty who nods eagerly.

“Of course, Nadine. You know you can count on me,” Kitty smiles, her dark red lips curling into a proud smile. “Lunch later?”

“If I have time,” Nadine says flatly, turning towards me. Jesus, a stick of butter has more personality than this woman. “If you need anything, my extension number is listed in the directory that’s on your desk. Enjoy your first day Cassandra. Goodbye.”

I force a smile. “Thanks, Nadine,” I say. If everyone in this office is as bland as Nadine I might actually die.

“Shall we?” Kitty asks, leading me out of Nadine’s office and down the hallway. “So, welcome to Pearson, as Nadine said my name’s Kitty, well actually, it’s Katherine but Kitty is just cuter, you know?”

My eyes light up as a wave of excitement washes over my body. Kitty seems… fun. Maybe I’ll survive here after all. “It is cute,” I agree, feeling the cloud that’s hovering over my head slowly start to dissipate. “And yeah, I’m excited to be here.”

“Good!” she exclaims. “Let me show you around.”

Kitty takes me on an extremely thorough tour of the entire office. She shows me the printing room, the staff room, the law library, the toilets, the IT room, various admin offices, and several other places I’m sure half the people who work here don’t even know exists. Do I really need to know that there’s a supply closet hidden behind a fake wall in the kitchen? Am I going to have to clean ? My nail tech won’t be pleased with me.

It takes over an hour to explore every nook and cranny of the firm. I’m introduced to over thirty staff members; half of them barely even raise their heads or acknowledge our presence but it doesn’t seem to bother Kitty. Every person I’m introduced to has the word ‘law’ or ‘legal’ in their title. Only the Senior Associates and Partners have personal assistants which means that Adrian is a big dog within these walls. Kitty briefly points out the Managing Partner’s office; his is the only one that does not have glass walls, but instead is covered in a deep grey vinyl frosting. I suppose the boss is the only one allowed to have some privacy. Anti-social and likes carpets? Definitely not looking forward to meeting this man.

“Oh, David! You’re back!” Kitty stops in front of a desk two over from mine. He must be another PA. “This is Cassie, she’s covering for Janet while she’s away.”

David stands up aggressively and flings out his hand. “David Castleberg, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

I stifle a laugh. This dude looks like an army cadet not a personal assistant. He has a military-style buzz cut, round face, and buggy hazel eyes. He kind of reminds me of Matt Damon’s character in Saving Private Ryan , except younger and slightly chunkier.

“Nice to meet you, David.” I shake his hand. As soon as his fingers wrap around my hand, a jolt of pain shoots up my arm. Holy shit, what a grip. I have to mentally force myself to stay upright and not collapse on the floor in agony. Kitty and David both need a lesson in how to shake a hand. She’s like a wet fish and he’s like the hand of Thanos.

“I was just about to take a quick coffee break,” David says to Kitty, walking around his desk. “You in?”

“Do I ever say no to caffeine?” Kitty lets out a melodic giggle. “Cassie? You wanna join us?”

Seeing as Adrian isn’t back yet I guess I have some time to kill. “I’m down, but I don’t drink coffee,” I state as we make our way down to the staff room. “I’ll have tea though.”

Kitty and David both look at me as if I just said I drown kittens. “I’m sorry, what?” Kitty asks, completely taken aback as we enter the kitchen.

“I get that reaction a lot,” I laugh. “Coffee just makes me super jittery. One time, my friend and I had a venti blonde roast from Starbucks right before a final exam and I swear I almost had a heart attack in the lecture hall. I finished a two hour long exam in forty minutes, it was crazy. I had anxiety for two full days after.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate. You’re going to need the energy to work Pearson hours.” David passes me and Kitty a mug each from the cabinet above the sink. My eyes widen. I’m used to working overtime but David’s weary tone makes me think I’ll have to bring a sleeping bag to work with me. Maybe a bit of caffeine won’t kill me. I riffle through the tea drawer until I find a jasmine green tea with lemongrass. I dangle it into my mug and fill it up with hot water.

“David, don’t freak her out. It’s only her first day,” Kitty scolds, popping a pod into the high tech Nespresso machine. “He’s joking, it’s not that bad. Mr. Cavallero rarely made Janet stay past five o’clock.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” David muses, stirring some creamer into his steaming cup of coffee. “He’s not as bad as Ms. Weston or Mr. Virk.”

I squeeze my eyebrows together. “Who?”

“Oh, sorry! Vivian Weston is my boss, and Manpreet Virk is Kitty’s. You’ll see them around. They’re both off-site with Mr. Cav today,” David elaborates. “Nancy told me Mr. Pearson is out as well.”

I blink. Why does he keep name dropping? I’ve only been here for two hours! How the hell am I supposed to know who Nancy is? “And Nancy is…?”

Kitty giggles. “Nancy is Mr. Pearson’s PA, she doesn’t sit with us. She has her own office.”

“Her own office? That’s cool,” I hum. I suppose if you’re the Managing Partner’s assistant you get special treatment. I wonder where it is…maybe it was that small room just off to the side of Mr. P’s office.

Kitty snorts, the gust of air from her nose causes her coffee to ebb and flow. “Yeah, this way she can cry in private and not in front of us.”

“Cry? Why would she cry?” I ask. “Is Mr. Pearson a dick or something?” I probably shouldn’t have used that adjective to describe my employer. Mental note: do not use the word dick at work.

“Mmm,” Kitty hums, unfazed by my language. Ok, light swearing is back on the table . “I wouldn’t say he’s a dick, he’s just very particular. Like a….my way or the highway type of guy.”

“Yeah,” David chimes in. “Ever since he got bumped up to MP, Mr. Pearson has changed most of our processes. His dad was way more laid back, believe it or not. You’d think a twenty-nine-year-old man would be more relaxed than a sixty-year-old.” My mind is trying to retain all the information they’re throwing at me.

“The, uh- MP, is only in his 20’s?” I ask. My knowledge of the American law industry is purely derived from watching countless hours of Suits and Legally Blonde, but late twenties seems young to be a Managing Partner.

“Yeah, Mr. Pearson Senior had a heart attack six months ago and had to step down, so his son Blake took over. Honestly, everyone thought Mr. Cavallero would get the job seeing as he’s the best lawyer at the firm but nepotism and all,” David explains with disdain in his voice.

Kitty rolls her eyes and slaps David’s shoulder. “You know he can’t hear you right? No need to be a brown-noser.” Kitty turns to me. “David is obsessed with Mr. Cavallero. It’s almost creepy.”

David shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. “Can’t one man look up to another man without it being creepy ?” David shakes his head. “I’m not saying Mr. Pearson is incompetent. He’s very talented but he’s not Mr. Cav.”

The way David is talking about my new boss is getting me quite excited to meet him. Attractive and successful? Sign me up.

“Shoot!” Kitty checks her watch. “We should head back. I need to print Mr. Virk some reports before they come back from their meeting.”

I quickly add some more hot water to my tea before we exit the kitchen and walk back to our desks.

“So, about Mr. Cavallero-” I bite my tongue, unsure if I should ask my question or not. Kitty seems relatively chill and I’m just dying to know.

“What?” Kitty asks as we round the corner.

“I saw his picture online,” I pause, trying to read Kitty’s expression. “I’m just wondering, is he actually that ho-”

Before I can finish my sentence, Kitty’s dainty hand grabs my forearm, her nails digging into my skin.

I stop dead in my tracks.

My eyes shift to the pair of shiny loafers on the floor in front of me. My gaze travels up the long length of the owner of the Salvatore Ferragamo dress shoes. Even though I’m mortified, I can’t help but admire the navy blue fitted suit or the lean muscle frame which it’s wrapping. Once my gaze reaches past his paisley print pocket square, my breath catches in the back of my throat.

Shit .

Adrian is standing in front of us, a knowing grin spread on his immaculate face.

Did he hear me?

“Hi…” I finish with a shaky breath, my knees about to give out.

Well, at least now I have my answer. No filter. No photoshop.

Just pure unadulterated fucking sex appeal.

Chastity gods, you better be with me.

---

What do we think of her co-workers?

Also, hellooooooo Adrian

vote if you enjoyed <3

f i v e

Oh my God, someone please say something!

Adrian studies me intently before shifting his gaze to my skittish colleagues. “Kitty, Manpreet would like to see you,” he finally says. Kitty nods feverishly and scatters away, David close behind her.

Traitors!

And then there were two.

Adrian turns his attention back to me. “You must be Miss Carrington,” he states in a low hum, his dark brown eyes giving me a slow once over. I’m acutely aware that my hand is slightly trembling and hot water is spilling down the side of my mug and onto my fingers, but I keep a straight and calm face despite the fact my skin is burning off.

I smile confidently, refusing to look shaken. He didn’t hear me. He couldn’t have. I was whispering…right? “Cassie is fine.”

“Cassie.” My name slips out of his mouth like liquid honey. His groomed eyebrows perk up as he rubs his clean-shaven chin. “I’m Adrian Cavallero.” After a beat, he extends his hand towards me, almost daring me to touch it. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

His soft yet gruff hand encircles mine so slowly that my breath hitches. His palm feels like a plush blanket, so warm and comforting, but there’s a certain aggressiveness to his grip that sends a blast of heat into the pit of my stomach. I imagine his lean fingers creeping up my bare arm and onto my shoulder, slithering down my heaving chest and…oh Jesus fucking Christ.

No! Nope. Nope. Nope. It’s just a handshake. A sensually arousing one, but a handshake nonetheless. He’s being professional. He is a professional.

And so am I.

… I hope.

“Let’s go chat in my office,” Adrian suggests, his slight Spanish accent sending shivers down my spine. “Seeing as we’ll be working closely together, we should get to know each other.”

“Definitely,” I agree in a steady smooth tone. “I’d love to get to know you.”

Every single part of you.

Adrian’s top lip curls into a faint smirk. “After you.”

I let out a tiny inaudible breath and flip my hair as I saunter down the hallway to his office. Swaying my hips methodically side to side, I pass Kitty and David who both toss me an apologetic look. Honestly, if I was them I’d run off too. Self-preservation and all.

Adrian’s office is bigger than it looks on the outside. A sturdy black wooden desk sits against the floor-to-ceiling window, two cream-colored chairs with black piping positioned in front of it. An extravagant bookshelf fills the adjacent wall, stacked with leather back books and nautical figurines. I make a mental note of the charcoal mid-century sofa tucked into the corner of the room. I’m sure that will come in handy at some point.

I stare at Adrian as he takes a seat across from me, his glistening eyes glued to mine, taking me in, observing me as I lower myself down on the guest chair. I straighten out my emerald-colored blouse and adjust my black pencil skirt. I desperately want to cross my legs, it’s my go-to power pose, but this damn skirt is too tight so I’m forced to sit a proper little princess, knees pulled together, and tilted to one side, ankles crossed. Just toss a fascinator on me and call me Kate Middleton.

“So, Cassie,” Adrian begins, holding a document in his hand which I can only assume is my resume. “What brings you to Pearson & Associates? It doesn’t look like you have any legal background.”

Got canned. Now I’m here.

I clear my throat and mentally crack my knuckles. Golden Globes here I come. “I’ve worked primarily in event coordination since I graduated with honors from the University of Washington however I recently decided to explore different career paths. I’ve been fascinated with law ever since I was a little girl and watched Erin Brockovich with my mom for the first time. But before jumping into a new degree I thought I’d get my toes a little wet and really see how the industry works.”

I say bull. You say shit. Bull-shit! Bull-shit!

My mother always said I had a flair for acting, perhaps I should get into it because boss-man looks convinced.

Adrian’s eyebrows perk up. “A career change so early on in life? Most people wait until their mid life crisis to jump ship,” he laughs, his eyes crinkling. “You seem a little young for that.”

“Well, I’m almost twenty-five; we can call it a quarter life crisis. I might not be able to buy myself a shiny red Porsche but I can change jobs,” I retort playfully. I’m literally just talking out of my ass right now but there’s no way I’m going to tell my employer that I’ve been laid off.

“That’s one way to look at it.” Adrian lets out a low husky chuckle. “However, you should know that changing careers can be quite challenging, especially if you’re thinking about becoming a lawyer.”

My lips perk up into a smirk. “Oh, don’t worry Mr. Cavallero, I like a good challenge.”

What am I doing? This is your boss, Cassie. Simmer down for the love of God . Monique would straight up slap me right now if she heard that flirty tone. PG, keep it PG, Cass.

“Hmm,” Adrian hums, his mouth slightly parted, the tip of his tongue on the fringe of his full lips. “I see, in that case, I’m glad to have you here. I’ll be sure to give you an in-depth look into the industry.”

“I look forward to it,” I smile sweetly, forcing myself not to bat my eyelashes. “I’ve heard you’re one of the best lawyers at this firm. I’m sure you’ll be able to provide excellent insight.”

Adrian’s lips twist in amusement as he lowers my resume and reclines back into his chair, resting his hands on his torso. He’s emitting a strong aura of power that makes me feel some sort of way; if his gaze lingers on my lips for a second longer I’ll be tempted to leap across the desk and test how far his ergonomic chair can recline.

Oh my god, what is wrong with me?

Hormones. Must be hormones.

A long pause suffocates the room as we subtly study one another, making sure no imaginary lines get crossed. Even though nothing inappropriate has escaped his tempting mouth, there’s something mischievous lurking in Adrian’s body language and blazing eyes. There’s an electrifying spark bouncing between our two bodies. But unfortunately, a spark can start a blaze which often leads to destruction, and I’m not yet certain if he’s worth the damage.

“Other than your career aspirations, please tell me a little bit about yourself, Cassie,” Adrian finally says, breaking eye contact. Oh, thank God. My ass is sweating through my silk skirt.

“What would you like to know Mr. Cavallero? I’m an open book,” I say, adjusting my position. Thank God these chairs are lined with fabric and not leather; otherwise, I’m sure there would be a giant butt stain on the seat when I stand up.

“Are you?” he smirks, tapping his fingers playfully against the desk. “Why don’t we start with something basic? Are you originally from Seattle? Or did you come here for college?”

“Born and raised in Seattle,” I confirm. “The Evergreen state has always been home.”

“So, you’re a local then? You’re very lucky. Washington must have been a wonderful place to grow up.”

“Lucky? I’m not sure about that. After twenty-four years of constant rain, a girl gets a little bit jaded.” Not to mention endless humidity which does nothing for my naturally frizzy hair. I swear I single handedly support the hair spray industry. “But I guess the ocean and mountains make up for it. Washington is a very beautiful state, I’ll give it that.”

“Yes.” Adrian’s eyes flicker briefly down the length of my body. “Simply breathtaking, isn’t it?”

“I- I take it you’re not from here?” I falter, my pulse quickening. Who knew the topic of geography could be so arousing?

“No, I was born in Madrid,” Adrian explains. “But my family and I immigrated to the States when I was five. My parents moved back to Spain several years ago to run the family business but I stayed behind for law school.”

“So you have no family in America then?” I frown. “Doesn’t that get lonely?” I couldn’t imagine not seeing my family. I mean, I can go months without seeing my parents , but there is no way I would be able to survive without my weekly lunch dates with my aunt Lucy and cousin Vanessa.

“I find ways to occupy myself, Cassie.” Adrian lets out a soft chuckle. “Plus, this job does take up a lot of my time.”

I press my lips into a thin line. “You specialize in Intellectual Property Law, right?”

It’s not creepy that I know that, it just shows I did my research. He’ll appreciate that I did my due diligence. Even though I spent several hours browsing the website, my grasp on the actual day-to-day is lacking. I’m hoping he’ll explain to me what exactly IP is without me blatantly having to ask.

“That’s correct. I specialize in patent, copyright, and trademark law. Many of our clients are creatives, musicians, artists, and inventors. Our job is to ensure that the products of their intellect are protected under the law. Of course, we have several larger clients such as SunFire Technology, WestCoast Bio-Tech, and Olympia Records…” he trails off.

I try my damndest to listen to him as he drones on about the firm’s clients and his day-to-day duties. I catch a little here and there but I’m mostly focusing on the rhythmic bobbing of his Adam’s apple and the melodic huskiness of his voice. Is it normal to be this affected by another person’s presence? It’s not like I’m drawn to his personality, I barely know the man, but he just exudes this undeniable sexual energy that even Mother Theresa would find irresistible.

“As for you Cassie,” he says, snapping me out of my reverie. “Your job primarily will entail archiving documentation and handling my calendar. Of course, there will be some ad hoc duties such as planning meetings and events, some of which you’ll be required to attend with me. The IT department has linked my email to your Outlook, that way you can forward the important ones on and handle the rest yourself.”

What?! I shake my head, narrowing my eyes. Did I miss something? “How will I know which emails are important and which ones are not…” This is what you get for ogling instead of listening you stupid girl.

Adrian smiles softly, nodding towards the door. “Kitty will brief you on the protocols as well as give you a rundown of our electronic storage systems. You seem like a very competent and intelligent woman, I think you’ll catch on quickly.”

A coy grin spreads across my face. “I’m sure I will, Mr. Cavallero.”

“Excellent,” Adrian says, standing up and walking around his desk. “I have a conference call in ten minutes but I’ll check in on you in a few hours.”

I lift myself up slowly and walk towards the door. “I’ll see you later,” I say, reaching for the doorknob.

Adrian hovers behind me, his body inches from mine. He extends his arms and twists the handle before I can reach it. “I look forward to working with you,” he hums.

“Me too,” I whisper, feeling his hot breath against my ear.

As soon as Adrian closes his office door I sprint to the washroom. Holy fucking shit. I grip the counter, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My pupils are dilated and my stupid face is an annoying hue of pink. I take several deep breaths hoping the color in my cheeks dissipate before I have to go and sit with Kitty.

I close my eyes, replaying our conversation in my head. ’ I like a challenge .’ Who says that? To their boss? On the first day?! In that suggestive tone?

Oh, Lord…

I have got to pull myself together. It’s not like he’s a God. He is just a man. A man that just so happens to look like a God but a man nonetheless. It’s not like he has magical powers or anything. I can do this. I can fight these lustful urges. I’m not some weak little damsel. I’m Cassie motherfucking Carrington. And if I put my mind to something, I can do it.

That’s right.

Mind over matter.

I will not have sex with my boss. I will not have sex with my boss.

I mumble my new mantra to myself as I wait for my heartbeat to slow down.

Images of Adrian’s naked lithe body pressed up against mine pop into my head.

Fuck.

Okay, apparently the word sex and boss cannot be used in the same sentence.

New Mantra.

Keep it professional. Keep it professional. Keep it goddamn professional.

---

Cassie has zero chill. Absolutely zero

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Publishing News

Hi friends!

I’m super excited to publish the Ink Series in the next couple of weeks! Both Company and Permanent Ink will be available on Amazon, in e-book, Kindle Unlimited, and paperback format!!

The series was previously published, and I’m so excited for you all to hold the NEW and ADORABLE versions of these books.

I’ll be removing the series from Wattpad (Except for a preview) in the next 2 weeks, so read now while it’s free.

I’ll be doing tons of giveaways on my Instagram (ellewiswrites) so make sure to give me a follow to win free books and goodies.

I’ll share links once the books are live ❤️

Published!

The Ink Series is available to purchase on Amazon. Currently, only Permanent Ink is available in ebook/ KU, but both books are available in paperback! Company Ink should be available on KU/ ebook HOPEFULLY in the next couple of day!

Links are down on my profile ❤️