One
Ainsley
I paceback and forth in front of the reception desk, desperately checking my phone. Thunder rolls outside, as though foreshadowing my situation. Outside the set of double glass doors, the elevator remains closed, taunting me. I gnash my teeth into the skin around my thumbnail, practically pressing my forehead against the door in anticipation. For the last three years I’ve been working as an overworked and underpaid Admin Assistant, and this is the first time a breakfast delivery has ever been late for a meeting. Of course, it’s the one day I cover for our CEO’s Executive Assistant. If there’s one thing Vance Clayton isn’t known for, it’s his tolerance for imperfection.
“Christ, they’re fifteen minutes late.” I mutter to Evelyn, the receptionist.
“Yikes,” she says, not looking up from her computer screen. “Not to shovel shit on your already shitty day, but I just got an email that the meeting just started.”
My head flips in her direction. “From who?”
Evelyn’s bright blue eyes meet mine. “Mr. Clayton.”
“No,” I murmur, rushing over to her desk. “What did it say?” I whisper. She turns her laptop in my direction. I stand on my tiptoes and peer over her desk to see one word:breakfast?
Jesus Lord have mercy. I do not need this today. Hell, I barely even like this job, but it pays better than waiting tables and I can actually relax with a good book at night instead of slinging hash to a bunch of ungrateful patrons.
“I’m going to chew the restaurant, Miley’s Eats, a new asshole.” My hands shake as I unlock my phone. Call it fate, but at this exact moment the elevator door chimes outside. The short dude rolling the cart filled with breakfast pastries, fresh fruit, and coffee is soaked to the bone. Clearly, the rain started. While I do feel bad for him, I also cannot tolerate late breakfasts for any of the employees here at Clayton Pharmaceuticals, let alone the head honcho himself, Vance Clayton.
I throw open the glass door and the delivery dude takes his sweet ass time heading toward me. “Come on, come on, come on.” I wave my hand through the air, giving little to no shits about being curt. “My boss is going to kill me because of you.”
“Sorry, man.” The guy runs a hand through his floppy red hair. “It’s raining like crazy out there.”
“I don’t care.” I cut him off as soon as the door closes behind him, as I reach for the box of coffee. “Put the rest on the reception desk.” I grab the creamer and rush over to the board room, my heart racing against my ribs.
“Hey, you’ve got to sign for this,” the delivery guy says.
“You can wait!” I call over my shoulder, not caring if this backs up the rest of his deliveries for the day. I’m already in scalding water with Vance Clayton, who I’ve never even had a conversation with. The goal now is to get this breakfast set up as quickly and quietly as possible.
I take a deep breath and twist the handle on the giant oak door. As soon as I step inside, I’m met by Mr. Clayton’s low, gruff voice. He’s speaking in lawyer talk, and I have no idea what he’s saying—nor do I care. I quickly head over to the side table, which I stocked with cups, plates, and napkins nearly an hour ago, and set down the coffee.
“It’s about time.” Vance Clayton’s voice causes my shoulders to rise. So much for getting in and out without being noticed. “Sorry about the interruption, gentleman. My regular assistant is out sick, and it appears this one can’t tell time.”
My cheeks burn. I’m sure they’ve turned pink by now. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being talked down to. The other is being embarrassed in public. I let out a long exhale and let his comment slide off of my back. Yeah, I hate my job, but I can’t get fired today. Not after I just put an offer down on a condo that I’m totally in love with.
I’m barely to the door when Mr. Clayton’s gruff tone stops me in my tracks. “Wait a minute.”
At first, I don’t think he’s talking to me until I feel a dozen sets of eyes staring into my back. I take a breath, then turn to face him. I’m not prepared to meet the greenest set of eyes I’ve ever seen. My entire body reacts before I know what’s happening. His icy gaze sends a chill right through me, and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m frightened by him or because he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in real life.
Obviously, Vance Clayton is no stranger to the office. I've always found it best to keep my head down and assist the research team—that is my job, after all—so I’ve never really had the opportunity to be this close to the man.
His bulging muscles press against his dress shirt. It looks like he goes to his barber daily, his perfectly coiffed, dark hair slicked back so perfectly.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Where’s the rest of it?”
“I have to bring it in.”
“Can you hurry? We’ve been waiting for breakfast, and clearly, you’re too incompetent to have it delivered on time.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” I say before I can stop myself.
“What did you say?” Vance Clayton stands. Standing well over six feet, the man is bigger than I thought, but he can’t intimidate me. This wasn’t my fault, and I refuse to take the fall for it.
“Mr. Clayton, I did everything I could to get the food here on time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bring the rest of it in.”
“Watch your tone.”