Excerpt: Yes, Please
Book 1: Please Series
Chapter 1
I dodged a tourist on the busy sidewalk in downtown San Francisco. After stepping around another, I pushed through the glass door into the café before someone could bulldoze into me. The chill of the October day turned into lovely warmth as I did a quick sweep with my gaze. I noticed my friend immediately, sitting at the counter in the back with a book and a cup of coffee. It was hard to miss her. She had a shock of perfectly coiffured red hair falling in a loose curl to her mid-back. Her stylish clothes fit her body perfectly, accentuating her trim waist and natural curve. The latest in fashion, the knee-high boot on her left leg bounced slightly where it was gracefully draped over her right knee.
I threaded through the bustling space, dodging a chair that unexpectedly jutted toward me as someone tried to get up. “Oh, sorry!” I said as I turned sideways to squeeze by.
Kimberly looked up at the sound of my voice. She greeted me with a flawless smile and moved her Louis Vuitton handbag off the chair beside her.
I’d met Kimberly during my freshman year in college. She had been a senior at the time and in the university’s program to get promising freshmen on the right track. Most freshmen met their assigned senior once or twice, and then continued on with their lives. I would’ve done the same, not wanting to bother her, but week after week she’d checked in. As the year passed by, she was always there, supporting me and giving advice. And she still was. Nothing changed when she graduated. We weren’t in the same social class and came from different backgrounds, but still she called me every week. She was sweet as well as beautiful, and I was thankful for her friendship.
I pulled out the high seat and hoisted myself up into it. “Hi,” I said, laying the newspaper I was carrying on the counter and dropping my bag to the floor.
“Don’t put it down there, it’ll get dirty!” Kimberly started to bend for my bag.
I put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Kimberly, the thing is eight hundred years old, five shades lighter than when it was new, and probably dirtying the floor. It’s fine.”
She crinkled her nose at me but didn’t argue. Instead, she glanced at the counter next to me. “Olivia, is that a newspaper?” Her incredulous gaze colored with humor. “Nineteen-eighty called—they want their communication device back.”
I smiled as a server stopped by. The woman braced a pen to her green notepad. “Hi, what can I get for you?”
My mind went to the bills sitting on my bookshelf. If the stack were any taller, Godzilla would try climbing it. “Just a coffee, please.”
“Do you want something to eat?” Kimberly asked me.
“Nah. I’m not hungry.” To punctuate my lie, my stomach rumbled.
Kimberly looked at the server. “A turkey sandwich, no pickles, with a side of potato chips.”
“You got it,” the woman said as she scribbled down the order and moved away.
“When did you start eating meat?” I drummed my fingers on the counter to offset the sound of my stomach trying to tattle on me again.
She dropped the menu behind a napkin dispenser, where it flopped against the salt and pepper shakers. “I don’t. But you’re hungry, and you hate asking for handouts. It’ll come, you’ll bitch, and then I’ll get to treat you to lunch. Just call me mastermind.”
“Kimmy,” I whined, picking at the edge of the newspaper. I could feel the heat saturate my cheeks. Pale skin and easy embarrassment were a couple of life’s really cruel jokes. “You don’t need to buy me lunch!”
“Oh, posh!” She snatched her phone off the counter, checked the screen, found no one had called or texted in the thirty seconds since she’d probably checked it last, and dropped it back down to the counter. “I got lucky and graduated when there were still jobs. I figure my luck will run out soon, and I’ll get laid off. By then, you should be working, and you better expect to buy me lunch. See? Just planning ahead. So…”
She reached around me and grabbed the newspaper. “What are you doing with a newspaper? Old school. Why not look at Craigslist like everyone else?”
I blew out a breath. “My computer died. Actually, not true—it comes on. I can hear it buzzing, but the screen stays black. The tech guy I know said it’d be about four hundred dollars to fix, and that I should just buy a new one. Which is a great idea—I’d love to have a new computer. I’d also love to have four hundred bucks.”
Kimberly tsked. “I have a computer you could borrow—it’s old but it works. Robby bought me a new Mac.”
Robby was Kimberly’s rich, handsome boyfriend who was about five seconds away from slapping a ring on her finger. She was a great catch, and he was smart enough to realize it.
“Thanks! That’d be great. The library is fun and all, but my bedroom doesn’t have stinky people leaning against the back of my chair.”
Kimberly grimaced and ruffled the newspaper open like a father in a 1950s sitcom. The smile dripped off her face as her brow crinkled. “Admin assistant?” She glanced up at me.
I shrugged as my coffee arrived. I immediately reached for the creamer.
“But you got a degree in computer science…” Kimberly looked down at the listing again. “Computer science pays well. This… The salary isn’t listed, but it can’t be much.”
I dumped two packets of sugar into my coffee. My spoon clinked as it whirled around the cup. I took a sip. The scalding brew raked down my throat and set my esophagus on fire. I coughed and beat at my chest. It didn’t help. Eyes watering, I braced the counter until the heat dwindled.
“You should blow on it,” Kimberly said.
“Mastermind, indeed,” I wheezed. After the burn died away, I said, “I’ve been job hunting for six months, Kimberly. I started applying a month before I graduated, remember? A solid six months, too. No slacking. Out of applying for hundreds of positions, I’ve only gotten a handful of interviews. Then I always hear the same thing—the school I went to is impressive, my list of achievements are even more so, but I have no practical experience. Then I never hear from them again.”
A surge of hopelessness welled up inside of me. Soon I’d have to start applying to fast food chains just to get some money coming in. The problem with that was it wouldn’t be enough to keep a roof over my head. Not in this city, not even in the surrounding areas. Moving was inevitable, but I needed money for that, too.
Life was sure kicking me in the lady balls.
“I’m just looking for anything that pays at the moment,” I said before chancing another sip. “I even applied to be a dog walker—turns out, there are more dog walkers around here than dogs.”
“What about your mom?”
I scoffed. “On a safari with someone else’s husband. She’s never been much into the mothering game.”
I shook my head and traced the cup’s handle. “If I could just get something—literally anything that paid decently—I could keep afloat until the economy improves.”
The sandwich arrived. With a busy smile, the waitress lowered the plate in front of Kimberly. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you. We’re good.” Kimberly pushed the plate in front of me as the waitress moved way. “Eat. This place does the best sandwiches.”
I gave Kimberly a grateful smile. “I don’t deserve you.”
She laughed and picked up her phone. “I know of something…” she said slowly, cutting into the fog of a truly delicious sandwich. She chewed her lip, hesitating. Leaning forward elegantly on the counter, she lowered her voice to a soft whisper. “You’re single, right?”
“Huh?” I asked, chewing.
“You’re single?”
I rolled my eyes. “Kimberly, I love you, but for the love of God, don’t try to set me up anymore. Either the guys take one look at me and make an excuse to get out of the date, or they just use me and dump me when they get bored. No thanks.”
She flushed. “Sorry. I really thought Jonathan would’ve been a good match.”
I waved it away, ignoring the little twinge in my gut from the handsome man who had taken my heart on the third date. He’d been charming and affectionate, and I was so blindly in love that when he broke it off, I laughed. I’d thought he was joking. He wasn’t. Apparently I didn’t fit in his world. He’d said, “You’d do better with someone more…your level.”
“My level?” I’d screeched. “My level of awesome, you mean? Because yeah, I would!” And then I’d just started yelling nonsense and crying. It wasn’t my finest moment.
“No big deal,” I said to Kimberly. “Par for the course in my love life.”
Kimberly gave me a beautiful pout before ducking her head. “Well…I do know of something—work related. It’s kind of hush-hush, but…” She smiled in a dreamy way, and then flushed. “Hunter Carlisle is looking for a new assistant!”
“Hunter Carlisle?”
Her jaw dropped. “What rock have you been hiding under? He’s the CEO of Primner and Locke! The youngest CEO they’ve ever had. And incredibly gorgeous.” She paused and leveled me with a stare. “Incredibly.”
The reference dawned as I sipped my coffee. From the little I’d heard, he was in his late twenties but had the business sense of someone far more experienced. He was shrewd and serious and in charge of a giant company with an equally large payroll. Getting my foot in there, in any capacity, would be a godsend.
A grin hijacked my confused expression. “I’m listening.”
“So…I can get you an interview. He looks for intelligent women with raw talent, so your lack of experience won’t be a problem as long as you tell him why you’re looking for admin work when you are obviously way overqualified.”
My heart sank, dwindling my smile. “Yes, but then he’ll tell me that I’ll get bored since I am overqualified. Either that, or he’ll suspect that I’ll try to transfer as soon as I can. I’ve been down this road before.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No. He won’t. He challenges his admins. He delegates work. He’s really smart. I bet you’d learn a lot from him.”
“Sounds too good to be true…”
“Well…” She hesitated. “There’s a catch. He…um. Well, he kind of has a…strange contract. He requires long hours. As in…like, really long.”
I shrugged and bit into my sandwich. Kimberly stared at me until I swallowed and finally said, “I don’t mind long hours. For experience and a paycheck, I’ll do just about anything.”
Her stare intensified. “Well, that’s just the thing. See, his life is the business, right? He’s got a fiancée, but that’s an arrangement to keep his family happy. He’s not into her, and she doesn’t bother with him. They don’t get it on.”
“I don’t know what getting it on has to do with anything, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about long hours. I have no life.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s always working, and he’s not into her, so he kind of has it set up where his admin fulfills all roles, you know?”
“What do you mean, all roles?”
“He…sorta…has his admin do work stuff, right? But then, when the mood strikes, she’s like the girlfriend, too…”
I frowned as my brain slowly made sense of her words. I paused halfway to biting my sandwich when the full meaning hit me. Shivers worked up my body. “She does sexual stuff for him?” I whispered incredulously.
Kimberly flushed again, but this time, it was teamed with a light sheen of sweat. I realized something that made my heart beat faster and a strange tingle work through my core. She was aroused! The prospect of being an admin for a guy like Hunter Carlisle had her pupils dilating and her nostrils flaring. She was even breathing faster, as though she’d just finished running a mile. Or having sex.
I leaned in, suddenly feeling like two naughty schoolgirls in detention. “Why don’t you apply?”
A sly smile crept up her face. She glanced around before lowering her voice to match mine. “I did. Last time he was looking. I got to the second round, but he chose someone else.”
“Are you serious? You’re not that kinda girl!”
She giggled, hiding her face in her hands. “I know! But the pay—” She dropped her hands and leaned back, rolling her eyes in delight. “The man.” She inhaled and fanned her face. “I had just that one time with him in the second interview. Oh my God, the way he—”
“Wait.” I held my hand up to stop the words. Strange quivers filled my body. “Are you telling me he tries people out? Like…has sex with them?”
“Yes, and it was the absolute best sex of my entire life. I am not kidding. Women try to get interviews just for some time with him. But he is exclusive. He chooses his admin with care, and generally doesn’t stray from her. Monogamous.” Kimberly’s voice dropped lower. She was fanning herself freely now. “It was so hot, Olivia. So, so hot. He was totally in control, and I swear it was just one big, long orgasm. Oh holy moly…”
She reached across me to grab my napkin and then dabbed her face.
“So…” My mind raced, not really believing my ears, and definitely not believing that Miss Goodie-Goodie Kimberly, who had never done anything crazy in college, was capable of something like this. Of doing something like this. And then passing it on to a friend!
I wanted to giggle, or squeal. My reaction to this revelation was as strange as the information itself. “How can that be legal?”
“Each person goes through a serious vetting process, with background checks and…other tests, and you get this lengthy contract going over all the working conditions just to be an admin. His office obviously has very sensitive information. And then there is this other contract for the more…personal side. And that protects him, lays out various stipulations, etc. You can say no at any time, but if you say no too often, he views it as a breach of contract. He needs the whole package.”
“Do many girls say no?”
“No! Are you kidding? Just one time with him, and I’m addicted. I wouldn’t say no.”
“Then why does anyone leave?”
“For the same reason I’m not interviewing again—I have a steady boyfriend whom I love. Whom I might marry. I couldn’t do that to him.”
All I could do was blink. This should’ve been so far out of my comfort level that I shut the idea down immediately. This should’ve been so far out of Kimberly’s! But something strange had taken over my body. Some wild streak that was tired of being stepped on. That was tired of being dragged through love only to realize I was being used. For once, I almost wanted to do something where the boundaries were clearly set, where there was no emotion, and both parties got what they wanted. Business. Blessed, unfeeling business.
“I cannot believe I am actually entertaining this,” I said into my coffee.
“I know.” Kimberly turned back to her nearly empty cup and stared down into its depths. “I couldn’t believe I’d considered it, either. And then I couldn’t believe I…you know. And here I am, totally wishing I could go for that interview. It’s crazy. The whole setup is absolutely crazy, and you would not believe the high-powered professionals interviewing for it.”
“And no one reports him?”
Kimberly waved her hand through the air, unconcerned. “The interviews are by invitation only. People know what they’re getting into when they show up.”
“And the other applicants…they’re high-powered?”
“Oh yeah.” Kimberly huffed. “And beautiful. I don’t usually feel insecure, but…”
My mouth dried up. I had to swallow a few times just to croak out, “Why did you tell me? If you were insecure, I’ll be the ugly girl in the corner.”
Kimberly gave her customary sweet smile. “You will not! And why not you? You’re really smart, really driven, and you have a bright future. I would’ve mentioned it sooner—even though it is a little…risqué—but I didn’t know you’d be interested in admin work.”
I gawked at her. “You thought I’d be fine with the…extra stuff, but didn’t think the work was up my alley?”
Kimberly giggled. “It sounds ridiculous when you spell it out, but…yes. Totally.” She giggled again. “Anyway, you’re young, you have nothing going on, and you need the money—you owe it to yourself to meet him. That’s probably all it’ll take. And besides, I hear he treats his admins really well. No one has ever complained about any part of the job…”
I took another bite of my sandwich with butterflies in my belly and confusion racing through my mind. I shook my head.
“I’ll just text you the info…” Kimberly snatched her phone off the counter.
“Better write it down on the newspaper—my phone was cut off about an hour ago…”
Later that night I walked into the apartment I shared with a roommate with Kimberly’s laptop under my arm. She’d said it was her old one. It was at least two years newer than mine.
Her note with a date, time, address, and contact name of the interview with Hunter Carlisle burned in my pocket. I’d be crazy to go. Getting hired for admin work was one thing, but answering to a boss sexually as well?
Despite the insane tingles that blasted through me every time I thought about it, I just wasn’t the type of girl that said yes to things like that. And if I was honest with myself—really, truly honest—I was confident with my shortcomings. I was a bit too curvy, a little too plain, and my overall vibe definitely too average. If Hunter Carlisle didn’t hire a girl like Kimberly, there was no way I would even get in the door. I was okay with all that. The world needed plain, smart girls, too. I wasn’t in a hurry to break my natural levelheadedness just to be turned down. Leave the fast lane for those seeking a thrill.
I dropped my stuff in my small bedroom and made my way to the kitchen to make some tea. I wanted to look at the latest job postings before bed.
“Oh. You’re home.”
I winced as Jane, my roommate, slouched into the kitchen in holey sweats with stains down the front. Half of her hair had escaped her ponytail and now frizzed around her head. She leaned against the counter with a scowl.
“Rent is due in five days,” she said in a dry voice.
I filled the kettle with water and switched it on. “I know, Jane. I’ll have it.”
“Well, you better, because I have someone interested in your room. No more late rent. You’re late, and you get a notice. End of story.”
Panic welled in my chest as I thought of my empty bank account. I had enough for one more month of rent. Just one.
“I’ll have it,” I said with a tight throat, feeling prickles in the back of my eyes. As Jane moved away with a huff, tears welled up. One overflowed and ran down my cheek, immediately leading to more. My situation was desperate. Graduating from a prestigious college was supposed to give a person a leg up, but all I got was a bunch of debt and shoved into the poor house.
I slunk back into my room with my cup of tea and drowning in tears. I set my cup down and fell into my bed. My blurry gaze drifted to the stack of bills that wouldn’t be paid this month. Then down to my pocket where that strip of newspaper with Kimberly’s writing burned against my hip.
Chapter 2
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Five days after meeting Kimberly, I stood on the sidewalk downtown, looking up at a building reaching for the sky. Wide, tinted glass doors stood in front of me, stately and foreboding. A man exited the building, dressed in a crisp business suit. His gold cufflinks caught and threw the sun.
I didn’t belong here.
I smoothed my slightly faded pinstripe skirt over my thighs. The black had turned a murky gray after too many washes. My pink blouse hung off my breasts in a shapeless avalanche. I’d changed my handbag to one of my better ones, but it definitely wasn’t designer. And here I was, interviewing to be the assistant to the CEO.
I definitely did not belong here.
Summoning my courage, I strode forward. Belonging or not, questionable job description or not, I was broke and this was my only hope. Literally. I had actually been turned down from two fast food chains. I’d been informed they weren’t hiring for managers and I was overqualified for the lower-level positions.
It was either this, or begging on the street.
This paid better.
Sucking in a deep breath, I entered the large lobby with a tight hold on my handbag. Marble and elegance stretched to either side, but I stayed focused on the man in uniform behind the large desk to the left. As I approached him, he looked up and lifted his brow. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Carlisle. I have an appointment.” I cleared my throat, hoping the action would scare away the tremor. It was a long shot, granted.
The man touched his computer monitor. After scanning the screen for a moment, he said, “Just go ahead and sign in here, if you would.”
He touched the monitor facing me at the end of the counter.
“Oh, sure.” I shook out my hands. It was also ineffective in chasing away the tremor.
The keyboard was right below the monitor, and I quickly filled in the needed information. The man consulted his own screen before hitting a few buttons and printing out a badge. He handed it over then pointed toward the back of the lobby. “Just take elevator thirteen all the way up to level fifty-three.”
I smiled and thanked him as I moved woodenly to the elevators. I exited at the appropriate floor and saw three women waiting in leather chairs. Opposite them were three more chairs, with a shiny coffee table sitting between them. To the left, an older women with half-moon reading glasses stared at a computer monitor at the side of her desk. Next to her, an identical desk stood currently bare.
I approached her slowly, fist squeezing the handle of my bag. I wanted to exude confidence, but with nervousness eating away at my insides, I was more concerned about not getting sick.
She gazed at me over the rim of her glasses.
“Hi,” I croaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hi. I’m here to apply? For the position?”
“Your name, please.” The woman’s expression remained bland, unperturbed by my faulty start.
“Olivia Jonston.”
She glanced at her computer, clicked the mouse a few times, and nodded. “Please have a seat until I call your name.”
I nodded and started over, knowing my face was glistening with nervous perspiration. I rounded one of the empty chairs and sat slowly, getting a good look at my competition. Then I had the urge to laugh hysterically.
The three women in front of me were drop-dead gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. Blond hair, one and all, was either done up perfectly with no flyaways, or hanging in a loose tumble over slim shoulders. Their clothes were professional and pristine, suits tailored to fit dynamite bodies. Pearls or gold necklaces adorned thin necks, and flawless makeup enhanced jaw-dropping faces.
I needed more makeup than any of these, and I was wearing the least. Just call me Underdog.
“Ginger Stevens,” the woman behind the desk called.
Beauty number one bent to the side and picked up a designer handbag of some sort—I vaguely recognized the symbol from a red carpet picture. With the other hand, she picked up a leather folder and gracefully rose from her seat.
With horror I realized everyone had folders, leather-bound and expensive. These women were bringing portfolios rather than their meager résumés.
I glanced down at the piece of paper resting in my lap. I didn’t even have enough experience to take up two sheets, let alone fill a portfolio.
Seriously, what was I doing here?
I inched up my chin. Getting down on myself wouldn’t help. I wasn’t pretty, fine, but I had great work ethic. I also had a reputable school under my belt. And I’d done a bunch of activities in school that taught me leadership and organization and…other important things.
I rummaged around in my brain for more great qualities as the next woman was called. She elegantly brushed a loose curl over her shoulder as she rose.
My gaze slid down her shapely legs and stuck to her fabulous red heels. I noticed the same emblem on those as she had on her handbag.
So…designer, then. Her suit surely was, too. She was wearing money. It was probably stitched into her seams and stuffed in her pockets.
I shook my head a fraction and looked away at the window, calling up my selling points and things I might say. I’d been through an interview or two; I had experience with most of the questions. Not that it had helped in the past, but maybe this time would be different.
You said that last time.
I curled my fists in exasperation at myself as the next woman was called. Not able to help it, I thought about who else might be hiring. Fast food was out, but what about Starbucks? I heard they were a cool company—I could give them a try.
Was there a Target nearby?
It took me a moment to recognize my name hovering in the air.
It dawned on me that the third woman had disappeared. I’d been completely lost in my own world.
I peeked my head around the chair back. The woman at the desk was staring at me over her half-moon glasses, waiting for me to get in gear.
I popped up and straightened my clothes before grabbing my handbag. I smiled at the woman as I approached, hoping the sentiment reached my eyes.
“Go on in,” she said, not smiling back.
I passed her desk and turned toward the partially open door. Taking a deep breath, I laid my hand on the cool handle and gently pushed. The large room spread out before me. Huge windows filled the wall at the far end of the room, showing the clear blue sky beyond. A round table surrounded by four chairs crouched off to my left. A couch lay ten feet beyond that, with a coffee table in front of it, and two large chairs to the other side. And in front of me, only slightly removed to the side, was a giant desk with two chairs in front.
A man stood as I entered. My jaw went slack and my mouth fell open. Like that first plunge on a roller coaster, my stomach flipped, and then dropped with the free fall.
Kimberly had mentioned Hunter Carlisle was attractive. Incredibly gorgeous, she had said.
She had grossly understated his appearance.
He had a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and straight nose. A top-dollar tailored suit swathed the muscular vee of his torso, leading down to trim hips and solid thighs. His delicious bedroom eyes, hooded as though in the throes of ecstasy, were a deep, bottomless brown, entrancing. Confidence and charisma oozed from his powerful body, melting my bones. His masculinity did not ask me to yield, but demanded it.
On shaking legs threatening to buckle, I walked closer with a lump in my throat. I didn’t dare speak. It would only come out in a warbled mess.
“Olivia?” he asked, his keen gaze rooting me to the floor.
I struggled to take a breath.
“Olivia Jonston, correct?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, something hot and fiery settling deep into my core.
“Take a seat.” He moved around his desk with the grace of a dancer and stood behind one of the large chairs, as though pulling it out for me.
Walking like the Tin Man with rusty hinges, I crossed the distance and took the proffered seat, getting a whiff of his aftershave. I closed my eyes, savoring the mouthwatering elixir. Unbidden, wetness blossomed between my thighs.
Suddenly I knew exactly what Kimberly had been talking about; exactly why she’d flushed every time she mentioned his name. I knew why gorgeous, high-powered women lined up for a job probably way under their pay grade and professional level.
It was to be close to Hunter Carlisle.
I glanced up into those sexy, smoldering eyes, and just stared. I didn’t know what came next, but I was pretty sure I needed a moment to get ready for it.
“Did you bring your résumé?” Mr. Carlisle asked.
“Y-yes, of course,” I stammered, picking it off the ground where it had fluttered after my fingers lost their grip. The sheet trembled as I handed it across the desk.
He stared at me quietly for a moment before his gaze dipped to the page. He dropped the page to his desktop and resumed his scrutiny of me.
“Tell me,” he started in a deep voice that vibrated down my spine and tickled parts of me that were distinctly feminine. “Why would a Stanford grad in a sought-after field turn up in my office applying for an admin role?”
I willed saliva into my mouth to cure the sudden dryness. “As you see—” I pointed a shaky finger at his desktop where my résumé lay “—I graduated five months ago. I’ve been diligently searching for work, but at the moment, there aren’t opportunities for those without experience, however great the school I graduated from.”
The words sounded professional, but my tone was much too wispy. The sheen of sweat on my face screamed uncomfortable. Or, more correctly, turned on. I was out of control without a clue how to fix matters.
His gaze traveled my face, and then grazed my body. When he was once again looking into my eyes, he said, “The economy is lagging at present. You’re unlucky in your timing.”
“I’ve come to that realization,” I heard myself say. The words were like an echo from someone else. Wobbly and distorted. I was not in charge of my linguistics. I only hoped he attributed it to nervousness.
“Olivia?”
“What was that?” I blurted.
Humor sparked in his eyes. “I said, would you be open to tasks outside of that strictly administrative? I have a variety of projects that come through this office, or that need overseeing.”
“Yes, of course.”
“And hours? Do you have a preference?”
A blush crept up my face as heat saturated my body. “No. I’m always available,” I said in a breathy voice I did not recognize. Get a grip!