Chapter One-Blaire

The man that stood in the doorjamb of my bedroom, of my one bedroom apartment, despite his devilishly good looks could have used a lesson in social skills. He had the tall, dark and handsome thing going for him, but he couldn’t notice the fact that I wanted him to leave—like yesterday.

How many subtle cues would he need to hear before the dingy—probably pull string—lightbulb would go off inside of that perfectly sculptured head of his? How many, 'well, that was fun,' or 'I have an interview soon,' would he need me to say before it clicked?

"Thomas," I said gently, pulling my lacey white satin top over my head, and stepping into my un-ironed pencil skirt. "I have an interview in like," I glanced at my watch, "thirty minutes. I'm leaving," I said, standing up straight and putting my hands on my slender hips. "So that means you need to leave, too."

Thomas stood up straight, his broad shoulders took up the width of the doorway, and there went that lightbulb. "Oh," he said. "I'll go get my clothes," he said, stopping mid-turn and looking back over his shoulder. "You think we could do this again? I had a lot of fun last night."

Cringe.

I smiled half-heartedly, and dug around in my purse that was scattered on the couch for a pen. I scribbled down my number, a fake one, on the back of a hairstylist's business card, and handed it to him. "Sure thing."

He grabbed the card, and went in search for his clothes. I continued to get ready, pulling my dark brown hair into a side braid, and applying a little blush before I headed toward the door.

It sounded bad, but I wasn't the girlfriend type. Not anymore at least. I'd only turned twenty-nine the year before, and I refused to settle down with just anyone who gave me a good time.

Especially Mr. Subtle standing in the middle of my living room with a boner, and a mischievous look. "You know, there is an opening at my dad's law firm downtown for an assistant. I could get you an interview. You wouldn't have to worry with the interview today."

I'd rather eat razor blades than owe him a favor. "No, thank you. I really want this job," I said sweetly. "You can see yourself out. Lock the door before you leave."

I left him with a slack jaw, and an embarrassing bulge in his pants. I hurried down the steps of my apartment building, and into the bright Tennessee sunlight. Being midsummer, my clothes immediately stuck to me like a second skin, and ruined any chance of getting to my interview without a red face.

My car's air was on the fritz, and I would most likely look like the after picture of a child's first day at Kindergarten. Perhaps the interviewer would have a sense of humor, pick up on my desperate need for a job, and hand it over.

One can dream.

If I hadn't spent the last year of my life following my ex-boyfriend around like some twenty-something groupie, I might have a career, but wishful thinking. There was no way to turn back time, so I was stuck in my rundown Honda, on my way to an interview for a fancy-smancy PR Firm.

Alpha, Inc.

I didn't know much about it, other than they were hiring for an assistant to the CEO, and it paid well. It would pay my bills, and serve better than the random jobs I'd picked up over the past year. That year was behind me, and so was my ex-boyfriend, who found an agent and left me for Nashville without a second thought.

He wasn’t that good in bed … anyway. I didn't think we'd get married or anything, but I thought I might mean more to him than tossing me into the wind like a worn bottle cap.

But that was months ago, and the casual dating scene suited me much better. Not to mention, the eviction notice that my landlord had boldly tapped to my door the day before. 

I parked in front of a huge glass building, with a huge logo ALPHA, INC written in elaborate print on the front. The building itself was intimidating, but I had drank two cups of coffee before Boy Toy Thomas woke up, and I felt the jitters working inside of me.

I just hoped it didn't make me pee on myself in the meantime. I prayed there wasn't too long of a wait because the coffee wouldn't last long, and I needed to eat soon.

My heels clicked clacked against the tiled floor as the doors opened for me, and I walked toward the front desk receptionist, who wore a huge smile and a blonde ponytail that I would never pull off.

"Nice pony," I said, lugging my purse on top of her desk.

She followed the movement, and kept a smile, but I noticed the twitch of her right eye. Judging by her desk, I assumed she didn't like clutter or unorderly things, and I was a walking train wreck.

"Thanks," she said sarcastically. "How can I help you?"

I sighed, and pulled my sunglasses from the top of my head and tossed them into the depths of my tan leather purse. "I'm here for the assistant interview."

She straightened her shoulders, and a tinge of a smile curled at her mouth, which didn't sit right with me.

The look screamed you'll never get the job, and I couldn’t back down from a challenge, of any kind.

"It's on the third floor," she said. "You won't miss it."

I checked my teeth in my compact mirror, watching the annoyed look on her face, and I gently touched the side of my mouth. "You have some food there."

She quickly glanced in the one lone mirror on her desk as I walked away, and I felt the dirty look as I stepped onto the elevator's platform and pressed the third floor button.

The elevator stopped, and I casually walked out. The floor length glass windows let in natural light that I really liked, but my mood took a nosedive when I noticed the lobby full of pretty girls … all waiting for their interview.

Cheese and butt cracks, this is a nightmare.

Sighing, I walked toward the last row, where I sat down and crossed my legs. Most of the girls sat properly with their ankles crossed and their hands politely placed on their laps.

I'm totally not getting this job.

The minutes grew to an hour when the girl in front of me was called back, and the one before her left in tears. It wasn't the first one that came out crying, which made me a little nervous, but I wouldn't take crap from some CEO that thought he was hot stuff.

It's just well formed molecules. Congratulations to your mother.

My stomach growled loudly, for the fifteenth time as the door to the office opened, and the current interviewee walked out. "He said to send you in," she said. "Good luck."

I stood up, sliding my palms down my skirt, pulling up the strap of my purse and walking toward the cracked door. The smell inside of it made my mouth water, I assumed it was this guy's cologne, which was well worth the money I assumed he spent on it. 

Yummy.

I pushed opened the door, walking into an office shaped in a semi-circle, with a glass door that led to a balcony that overlooked the hustle and bustle below.

The man sitting behind the desk cleared his throat when I didn't immediately acknowledge him.

But when I did … my heart stalled like the engine in my rundown car.

He was totally worth the wait, even if I didn't get the job, I had a chance to ogle this eye candy. I could tell he was tall without him standing up. His navy suit was crisp and ironed to his impeccably taunt deltoids and chest.

The shade of his sandy brown hair was unique, but nothing compared to the electric blue of his eyes. His jaw worked, and I realized I hadn't said a word, I just stared like a little girl meeting a cute boy for the first time.

"Good …" I glanced at the clock above his head. "Afternoon. I'm Blaire Summers."

He watched me for a good thirty seconds before tilting his head and closing his eyes. I didn't like it. "Am I bothering you?" I snapped.

Both eyes opened, and a heated stare melted me into the doorway. "I'd rephrase your sentence, or learn how to find your way out of my building. I don't tolerate an attitude."

His voice was dark like chocolate, but it stuck to me like honey. 

"Sit down," he said, gesturing toward the seat in front of his desk. "I have ten minutes before I'm over this," he said tossing his pen onto the oversized calendar on his desk.

What a way to invite your guest inside.

I swayed over, watching the way his gaze lingered over my curves, and down to my shapely legs. Dude definitely had no problem with looking, did he?

Once I sat, I curled my fingers over my crossed leg and smiled. It did little for him, obviously, he only glared back, not even a crack of a smile.

After seconds of silence, I cleared my throat. "Well, is the position still available? That's why I'm here."

He leaned forward and braced both of his elbows on his desk. "I'm Luther Reed, and this is my company. I'm …" he craned his neck and cleared his throat, looking very uncomfortable. I lifted a brow at him, waiting for him to say something that made sense. "The position has already been filled."

Great. I scoffed, while grabbing my purse from the floor, and slinging it over my shoulder. "Thanks for nothing," I said. "You could have saved me the time. I've only been waiting an entire hour."

I stormed out of his office, leaving the door wide opened and descended the stairs, not feeling like being cramped in a tiny elevator at the moment. I burst from the side of the building, and barreled toward the parking lot.

"What a joke," I mumbled, my heel catching on a crack in the sidewalk. I stumbled forward, bracing myself for a gnarly fall to my knees, but someone caught me.

My fingers braced against a man's forearms as he straightened me. My gaze lifted to a pair of honey colored eyes, and my mouth opened partly. Two gorgeous men in one day? Maybe this one wouldn't have a corncob up his butt crack.

"I'm sorry," I said, pulling back and straightening the front of my blouse. "Life isn’t letting me be great today."

The corner of this man's mouth tugged into a smirk, and I found myself smiling at the pavement like an idiot. At least he smiled. Someone needed to tell Luther that he most likely wouldn't burst into flames if he tried it.

"Don't mind me; I'm always available to help a beautiful woman."

I smiled, knowing this man was used to speaking to plenty of beautiful women, and by the casual way he eyed me, I figured he was good at many things. 

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr.—,"

He chuckled, his eye color looked taunting in the bright sunlight. Not to mention the stark contrast against his raven colored hair. "Davers. Axel Davers. And you are?"

"Blaire Summers," I said.

Axel smirked. "Fitting. It was great running into you." He glanced at the Alpha Inc., building and back down at me. "Do you work here?"

I glanced up, and scoffed. "Yeah, well, that didn't go over very well. I was here for an interview but—,"

The shadow of someone large darkened me. Somehow, my body felt his presence and I knew who stood behind me before looking.

Axel's shoulders stiffened and he titled his head high.

Then there was Luther—he wore his infamous frown, those icy blue eyes battled silently with Axel. "Well, look who came down from his tower," Axel said. "Mr. Luther Reed."

To my surprise, as I watched the two of them hold some kind of testosterone match, as I wished I had a bag of popcorn handy, Luther's palm wrapped around my elbow, and bolts of electricity tap-danced along my warmed skin.

I glanced up at his cold stare as it shifted down to me. "Are you bothering my new assistant?"

Hold up. I narrowed my eyes to slits. "Wait a dagum minute, Mr. Whiplash—,"

Axel chuckled. "Looks like you did get the job, Mrs. Summers. I don't blame Luther. I can see why he would want to hire you," he smiled, winking at me. "If he doesn't treat you right," he said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. "I work right over there at Lycan Enterprises, and I'd be more than happy to hire you."

He snatched a business card from his front pocket, and flicked it in-between his fingers toward me. "Call me anytime."

Axel walked passed me, toward what looked like a little café around the corner, and disappeared.

"What are you thinking?" he hissed.

I glanced up at Luther's heated stare, noticing he hadn't let go of my arm yet, and the burning sensation felt like a warmed oven mitt against my skin.

Pulling away from him, I crossed my arms over my chest. "What am I thinking? What are you thinking? Do you have some kind of 'who's ding-a-ling is the biggest' game going on with him or something?" I scoffed, ignoring the shocked look on his face. "I'm Audi 5000. See you never."

I stalked toward the parking lot, only to be halted again, but this time he dragged me closer to him, his wide chest eye-level with me. "You smell like another male."

What in the …

"Dude," I said, snatching my arm away from him. "Don't you have an assistant to train or something? You just told me the position was filled and now you're telling random strangers I'm working for you?"

His tongue snaked out over his full bottom lip, and he cracked his neck. It looked like he had a silent conversation with himself, and the other part won.

"You'll be working for Alpha Inc. You start tomorrow. Be here promptly at seven-forty-five."

He turned on his heels and disappeared around the corner of the building, leaving me with my mouth opened and a slew of curses stuck in my throat.

Yeah right. I wasn't working for Alpha, Inc., and most definitely not for the handsome bi-polar Grinch.