Mary snorts, laughs, and nearly chokes on her coffee, but if she thinks I was joking, I'm so not. Her shoes are such a horrendous sight, it just pains me to look at them.
"What about those?" I point to her glasses. "Are they even real?"
The older girl grins. "Wearing fake glasses to work is a little too much, don't you think?"
I shake my head. "The nerdier you look and act, the better. If you want to keep your job, you need to make Uncle Stone forget you're a girl." I pause. "Actually, it would be better if you forgot you're a girl as well."
"Noted."
I'm amazed at how quickly Mary agrees to this. "Is it really that easy? Every woman I know, regardless of age, has had the hots for Uncle Nic and Uncle Stone."
"They're not my type."
My brows shoot up at this. "What's not to like? They're both gorgeous and rich, and unlike other billionaires, they're actually decent human beings, too."
"I know that," Mary assures me, "but I just have an, um, type, and they can never be it."
My curiosity knows no bounds now. "Tell me what your type is, please."
Mary's lips curve, and I'm startled by how it reminds me of Mona Lisa's smile.
"It's a secret," the other girl says, and the words just reinforce her resemblance to the woman in Da Vinci's masterpiece.
Oh boy.
While I know for certain that Uncle Nic prefers a different type of girl, should I let Mary know that, once upon a time, Uncle Stone used to be attracted to girls like her?
"Scarlett?" Mary looks at me oddly. "Is something wrong?"
I slowly shake my head, thinking it's better to keep my mouth shut rather than risk making mountains out of mole hills.
"It's nothing," I say, and I tell myself it really is nothing.
Right?
Stone
Nic knocks on my office door and pokes his head in as he says, "It's the last day of Mary's trial period. Do we keep her or fire her?"
Damn.
I can't believe a month has already passed just like that, and a grimace works over my face because I know what I'm about to hear once I tell Nic my decision.
"Well?" Nic demands.
"Keep her."
My friend smirks. "I told you so."
That's what I knew he'd say, but even though I already expected it, the words are still irritating as fuck.
Nic walks in and places Mary's employment contract on my desk. "All this needs is your signature, and she'll officially become the full-time secretary to two of the world's most workaholic CEOs."
I scrawl my signature on the dotted line. "Anything else?"
"Want to be the one to tell her the good news?"
"Seriously?"
"Both of us have interviewed and tried other applicants before her, and none of them worked for us. You know Mary's the best one in the bunch, and while she hasn't made any complaints so far, it's only a matter of time before your ogre act gets to her."
"I barely speak to her," I snarl.
"Exactly," Nic retorts. "The few times you speak to her, you do that."
"What the fuck is that?" I growl.
"You're either snarling or growling at her, so again: ogre fucking act."
Damn.
"This girl is a keeper," Nic stresses.
Why is Nic so fucking insistent about her?
"Do you want to fuck her?" I ask abruptly.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Nic looks stunned, and a moment after, exasperated. "No, Stone. I don't want to fuck her. She's not my type, and you know that. But what I do want is to have a secretary who doesn't see her job as a stepping stone to become the next Mrs. Verhoff or Mrs. Verhaege, and Mary is it."
While I'm now satisfied that Nic hasn't the hots for Mary, his words have made me think of something else, and I hear myself ask, "How do you know she won't change? Or that what we're getting now isn't an act?"
"Scarlett."
My forehead creases with a frown. "Your niece?"
"You know how Scarlett is, right? Everyone likes her—-"
It's my turn to smirk. "We all do...except for her uncle."
Nic grunts. "I like her just fine as long as she does what I tell her, but anyway, that's beside the point."
"So what is the point?"
"Scarlett got Mary talking a couple of weeks ago, and apparently, Mary let slip that she doesn't dig either of us."
"And Scarlett thinks she's telling the truth?"
"Scarlett and I may butt heads all the time, but I know my niece. She can sniff out liars and gold-diggers better and faster than any of us."
If that's the case, then I guess it means neither Nic and I truly aren't Mary's type. That should've made me happy, but for some reason, it...doesn't.
"Are we on the same page about Mary now?"
I grunt in response, but it's good enough for Nic, and the other man tells me he'll be sending Mary in right after.
A knock sounds on my door in a couple of moments, and Mary comes walking in at her usual sedate pace.