Fall Into You (Morally Gray, #2)(23)

“Oh, he’s not hostile!”

When I narrow my eyes at her, she relents. “Okay, he’s hostile. But it’s not personal. He’s that way with everyone.”

“This is sounding less and less appealing by the second.”

“That salary is pretty appealing, though, isn’t it?”

When I make a doubtful face, she keeps trying to convince me.

“I think the problem with the other people it didn’t work out with was that they weren’t prepared for his…forceful personality. But I’m telling you, so you can go into it with a different perspective.”

“It sounds like you know this guy pretty well.”

“I do.”

“Would you work for him?”

“Oh God, no, I’d kill him before lunch on the first day.”

“You’re doing a terrible job selling this position.”

She names the ridiculously high salary again, dangling it out there like a carrot.

“What company is this job with?”

“I can’t tell you.”

I lift my brows. “Why not?”

“They’re very private. Which reminds me, you’d have to sign a nondisclosure agreement before going in for an interview. And if you got the job, there’d be another NDA.”

“Are they the Mafia or something?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it. Then, very seriously, acting as if she’s telling a big fat lie, she says, “No.”

I burst out laughing. “Okay, now I’m intrigued.”

Looking excited, she grabs my arm. “Does that mean you’ll interview?”

“No, it means you can email me the job description. It probably won’t be a match for what I’m looking for, anyway, but we’ll start there.”

We head to the register. Emery rings up my purchases while I write my email address on the back of one of her business cards. I give it to her, we say goodbye, and I head home.

By the time I get there, Emery has already sent me an email with the position’s details.

I read it over, growing more surprised by the moment.

It’s exactly what I’m looking for. The duties, the responsibilities, the growth potential…they’re all a perfect fit for me.

Absolutely perfect.

And she wasn’t kidding about the benefits package. It’s so generous, it doesn’t seem real. Combined with the astronomical salary—double my current pay—it’s a temptation I can’t resist.

I email her back saying I’d like to interview for the position.

Thus sealing the fate that first curled its dark tendrils around me the night of Chelsea’s birthday.





Cole





It’s been four weeks since the night at the hotel with Shay. It feels like four lifetimes.

I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. She lurks in my thoughts all the time, always ready to distract me with a memory of her smile, her laugh, her moans.

Her loud, lusty moans as I fucked her.

The bar where she walked up to my table is the place I’d visit several times a week after work to decompress. I’ve avoided it since.

I know what would happen if I saw her again.

I’d take one look at those gorgeous green eyes, and my fate would be sealed.

So, to protect us both, I drink at a different bar now. I sit alone, people-watching, pretending I’m not secretly hoping she’ll walk through the door.

It’s a good thing I’ll never see that woman again. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else.

“Excuse me, Mr. McCord. Sally Hutchinson is on line one for you.”

The voice of the receptionist whose name I can never remember comes through the intercom on the phone on my desk. Irritated by the interruption, I jab my finger onto the speaker button. “Take a message. I don’t have time to talk to her.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she insisted. She says it’s urgent.”

Sally Hutchinson is the executive headhunter my brother Callum hired to find me an assistant. What could be so fucking urgent? What constitutes a recruiting emergency? The pool of candidates willing to work for the notoriously grumpy Cole McCord suddenly shrunk from zero to minus one?

Irritation makes my tone hard. “I said take a message.”

I can almost see the receptionist wilting in her chair when she responds, her voice going from merely hesitant to downright meek. “Um. It’s about, um, the opening for your assistant? She says she found someone perfect.”

Perfect? Sure. I almost laugh out loud. But as that’s not something I do, I growl instead.

The receptionist whispers, “I’ll take a message, sir,” and hangs up.

If only people obeyed my orders without question, the world would be a much better place.





Shay





The interview process is ridiculous.

And when I say ridiculous, I mean insane.

First, I meet with a junior recruiter at the executive search agency responsible for filling the position. I complete volumes of paperwork. I sign a nondisclosure agreement. I take a barrage of tests. Once those tasks are done, I sit through an hour-long interview.

That’s round one.