P.S. You're Intolerable (The Harder They Fall, #3)(3)

But he was all in on the co-parenting thing. And his excitement to be a dad had convinced me I wanted this baby too.

“I don’t know about the salary. First, they have to want to hire me.” I scrunched my nose as Liam pulled my feet into his lap. He was under the impression foot massages solved everything for pregnant ladies, and I didn’t quite have the heart to tell him I wasn’t that type of pregnant lady yet.

“How did he end the interview?” Liam asked as he dug his dagger-like thumbs into the arch of my foot.

“He said HR will check my references, and of course—”

Liam chuckled. “Oh, Christ. Well, good luck getting someone to answer.”

I went still, an uneasy prickle crawling up my spine. “What did you do?”

He shrugged. “Just spruced up your CV a little. Gave you more experience with an Australian firm that doesn’t quite exist.”

I stared at him, fire rising from my chest to the top of my head. Oblivious, he laughed to himself and continued with his terrible foot massage.

He’d messed with my résumé? This was beyond the pale. There was not an iota of a chance Elliot Levy would look twice at me once he found out I’d lied about my past job experience—my fault or not. “Liam, are you kidding—?”

“Calm down, babe. They’re not going to call Australia. Plus, the email address I gave is registered to me. I’ll tell them what a stellar employee you were. Don’t get worked up about it.”

I tossed the nearest object at his head. Lucky for him, it was a pillow. “I should bludgeon you to death for this.”

“No, you should thank me. Soon, you’re going to be bringing home the big bucks. We’ll flip this house and find a cute little place to raise the kid. You’ll see, babe. Six months from now, we’ll be fat and happy. No need to worry.”

Liam sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to believe him, but lying was no way to start anything, and I hated that he’d fabricated a reference on my résumé.

But Elliot Levy was a brilliant businessman. He had to know I’d be an utter disaster as his assistant. I soothed myself with the surety there was no way I’d be hired for this job.





Chapter Two





Catherine





Questioning how or why I was hired would be looking a gift horse in the mouth, and I wasn’t about that life.

Three days after my interview, someone from human resources called to inform me I was to show up promptly at eight a.m. on Monday and would be shown the ropes by a woman named Davida.

I spent the ensuing three days gnawing on my nails and watching Liam walk in circles while claiming to be working on the kitchen.

He was always working on the kitchen. I’d witnessed this man erect an entire house in a matter of days, but when it came to the house I’d sunk my life savings into, he had no sense of urgency.

By the time Monday rolled around, I was crawling out of my skin. Nothing had changed in the kitchen except the piles of material shifting from one side to the other. Liam wouldn’t let me help, not even with the light stuff. I had never been someone who did well with being told what to do, but the bean in my belly required me to take a step back and at least try to relax.

I had a feeling I wouldn’t be doing much relaxing once I started working for Elliot.



Davida was a British woman in her fifties with a stunning silver bob and thick, dark-framed glasses. Her no-nonsense approach helped me slip into my own professional mode. I’d filled out paperwork over the weekend, so the only thing I had to do when I arrived was to get my picture taken by security for my badge before I was shown to my desk.

My desk sat outside Elliot’s door. It was so pristine I was afraid to touch it.

Davida ran through the basics of the computer system Levy Development used and showed me where to find my email address and calendar.

“Jeffrey and Elliot use the same calendar system. When I get back to my desk, I’ll email you Jeffrey’s so you can see an example of how it’s done right.”

Davida had informed me she had been working at LD for five years as Jeffery Meyers’s executive assistant, though she was familiar with Elliot’s needs since she’d helped out when he’d been between assistants.

“Is he often between assistants?” I asked.

Her shoulders tightened, and she hesitated to respond, which made my shoulders tighten. “Elliot is extremely exacting. He doesn’t tolerate anything half-assed. As long as you do things the way he wants, you don’t have to worry about your longevity.”

I smoothed my hair away from my face. “Well, I wasn’t worried about him firing me. I asked because I was curious about the turnover rate. Do people often leave—”

She held up her hand. “All you need to concern yourself with is the job you do. What other people have or haven’t done doesn’t affect you.”

She moved on without waiting for me to comment, making the switch to explaining Elliot’s schedule when something shifted in the air.

A hush fell over the already quiet space.

I raised my head from the computer, finding the cause coming toward us. Davida straightened as Elliot approached, his long strides eating up the space.

My new boss moved with efficient grace. His height and lean build had something to do with it, and the sharp cut of his tailored, charcoal-gray suit only added to his sharklike aura. He homed in on me behind my desk, and I was overcome with the sudden need to wipe my fingerprints from the gleaming surface.