7
Jace
“You shouldn’t have asked her to be a surrogate,” Matteo says. He folds his arms across his chest. “It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
I shut my office door so that no one else can overhear the conversation between us.
“I’m aware of the risks. But the girl, she’s obviously in trouble.” Besides, it’s his fault this happened. If he hadn’t suggested having the agency schedule an appointment at my office, there never would have been a misunderstanding.
I blame Matteo.
“And you think offering her to be a surrogate and throwing thousands of dollars at her is what, the answer to her problems?”
“Money solves a lot of problems,” I say. “There are men who would kill me for my position.”
Matteo rolls his eyes. “Not because you’re the CEO of this place.”
I glare at him to watch his tone. Not that there’s surveillance or the place is bugged, but you can never be too careful.
I don’t only run a corporation; I also run the mafia. I’m the head of the family. My men call me Don Barone.
“Anyway, she called and said yes. I’ve agreed to meet with her this evening to go over my expectations and make sure that she’s onboard one hundred percent before signing the paperwork.”
I approach my desk and unlock the drawer, retrieving the manila folder along with the leather binder I had doodled on during her interview.
“You’re not the least bit worried that this is a setup?” Matteo asks.
He’s always a little on the paranoid side. He’s a good man, trustworthy, but his instincts are only on point about half the time. He’s like a brother to me, but I don’t have any biological brothers.
I only have a sister, who’s six years younger. We don’t talk. She hates what I do for a living, despises me. I’m not too crazy about her either.
A frown etches across my face. “A setup. How exactly? She came in for an assistant position.”
“Yes, an assistant position that doesn’t exist.”
“You didn’t bring her in? You’re always blabbing on about hiring me an assistant around here. How I need someone to make sure I don’t miss a board meeting and can send out and answer emails for me.”
“Well, I may have mentioned it to HR, but I’m sure that I explained it would be an internal position. Not someone right off the street,” Matteo says.
I flip open the leather binder and glance down at the name I jotted during the interview with Olivia. “Do you know an Avery Seymore?”
“Yes, she works in the accounting department,” Matteo says. “She’s a level one, been around for maybe three years. Young, bright, a little too enthusiastic, but she’s a hard worker.”
“Olivia mentioned her name during the interview. She must have told her about the assistant position.” I’m still perplexed by how our wires got crossed.
“That is my fault, and I assure you that it won’t happen again.”
I shut the leather binder. “Good.”
* * *
I pick up dinner on my way home. It’s nearly eight, and I don’t have time to cook a healthy meal, certainly not before company comes over.
That company is Olivia Summers.
My hands are sweaty, and my stomach is bubbling.
Why am I nervous?