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My mind flashed to the stunning brunette at the restaurant I’d been unable to get off my mind. Shaking my head, I shoved it aside, annoyed that I’d only looked at her and still thought of her a week later. “Not since I’ve been in this damn city,” I grumbled.

“Oh, yeah. New York always makes you pissy. Go get laid and know I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Anything else? You sound more irritable than usual, which is saying something.”

“Very funny. I’ve got a day full of interviews ahead of me.”

“Still trying to replace that one chick?” he asked, laughing.

“Beth,” I grumbled.

“You could always call her,” he joked. “Or…who was the other one?”

“Shut up, asshole.”

He laughed at my luck of hiring women who had applied to the job just to get close to me in hopes of bagging the boss. Beth was the most recent culprit and had started by offering to blow one of the supervisors to get placed on a project I headed.

Being desired for my money wasn’t anything new, but I hated it even more because it fucked with my business…which fucked with my plans, and that crossed a line. My life centered around making this company successful enough to take what I wanted.

Add in my disgust for anyone cheating their way to the top, and I fired her instantly.

“I don’t fuck employees.”

“Hey, don’t knock it. I fucked Maggie all over the office and now look at us.”

I choked out a sound of disgust. “Married.”

“Yeah, happily married. Nothing wrong with it.”

“Maybe not. But I’m good without it. Women are a distraction, and I’ve got plenty who are perfectly fine with the occasional meet.”

“Such a playboy,” he joked. “Doesn’t Grandpa Charlie want to see you happily married?”

My lip curled at the thought. I’d do anything for my grandpa to make him happy, but that request was too much. “On that note, I have to go.”

“Mr. Rush. Your first appointment has arrived,” Ryan called through the intercom.

“That’s my first interview,” I said to a laughing Xander. “Say a prayer for me, and I’ll call someone tonight.”

“You better, or I’m sending you a hooker. And not a top-shelf one.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.”

With that, I got off my phone and shoved it away, clicking the intercom to talk to Ryan. “Send them in, please.”

A tall blonde walked in, confidence pouring off every inch of her. When she spotted me standing from my desk, she stumbled over her feet a bit.

“Okay?” I asked, rounding my desk.

“More than okay,” she said with a slow smile.

Alarm bells rang when her eyes heated, and she bit at her lip. I held out my hand cautiously, hoping she wasn’t anything like Beth, but not holding my breath. “I’m Nicholas Rush, nice to meet you.”

“Cassie,” she said, sliding her hand in mine. She held on longer than necessary and scanned my body head to toe.

Tugging my hand back, I rounded the desk, eager to put space between us. I watched her sit down and barely held back my cringe when she tugged her black skirt further up her legs than necessary and stroked her finger along the v of her blouse.

This was going to be a long fucking day.The first three interviews sucked. The first one flirted the entire interview until I began to feel so uncomfortable, I had to cut it short. The second was completely unqualified, and the third was a little racist.

The fourth sat across from my desk, barely hanging on by a thread. He had no actual work experience but expressed an eagerness to learn. It wasn’t great, but at least it was something I could work with.

“Thank you, Kyle,” I said, walking around the desk.

He stood from his chair and shook my hand. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Rush. I hope to hear from you.”

Not making any promises, I merely nodded and walked him out. “Have a nice day.”

As soon as he rounded the corner, I fell back into one of the seats across from Ryan’s desk.

“Another dud?” he asked.

“Actually, not completely. Which is why I’ll probably offer him the job. God, I just want this to be over.”

“Should have let HR handle it.”

“Thank you, Ryan, for your insightful, useless comments.”

“It’s what you pay me for.”

I didn’t even bother glaring. My eyes slid closed, and I grumbled.

“By the way, Joseph called again.”

At that, I jerked upright, tugging my phone out of my pocket. Four missed calls. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

“Did he say what it was?”

“No, but he did ask me to let you know to call him back sooner rather than later.”

I stood from the chair and checked the time. A little after one.

“I’m taking a lunch today. I need to call him back, and I need space from these damn interviews.”

“But you have one last interview in thirty minutes.”

“Reschedule,” I said, running into my office to grab my wallet.


Tags: Fiona Cole Blame it on the Alcohol Romance