Chapter One
“All right, Monday. Let’s try not to suck.”
But Hayden Porter didn’t hold out much hope. His boss had been away for five days on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Vegas, leaving him scrambling to rearrange meetings. Hayden didn’t complain. Not that it would matter if he did. Boris was off feeling up showgirls, secure in the knowledge that Hayden was in control.
Truth was, Hayden loved his job. Checking off that last item on a to-do list was almost as satisfying as sex. More so lately, as it had been a while since he’d had a chance to get laid. His personal pleasure came in second to pleasing his boss. He had a reputation to uphold.
It was hard being the best, but someone had to be number one. And Hayden Porter—personal assistant to top CEOs in the country—was that person. There were none better. It wasn’t bragging. It was a well-known fact.
Hayden understood his bosses’ needs before they did, had a list for everything, and never lost his cool. He was always the first in the office and the last to leave. His mind was anencyclopedia of the-best-of lists for everything anyone who was anyone would need.
A losing day on the stock market? Hayden was there with forecasts of the next day’s winners. A broken date? He’d have the best friends ready with a table at the hottest club. A mishap with lunch on that five-thousand-dollar custom suit? The best dry cleaner in the city was on speed dial.
Hayden always had it covered.
Except today.
Hayden had presumed their usual Monday morning meeting would run a bit longer because of Boris’s trip. He had reports printed out—Boris hated computers—and his schedule for the upcoming week, plus a summary of the little fires he’d put out on his own with Boris away.
But Boris Kunoff—seventy-five years old, slightly shaky on his feet and possessor of one of the largest fortunes in the Northeast—had just introduced Hayden to his new wife, former Miss Something from Somewhere, Cindy Sue. They’d known each other for one whole month. The last-minute trip to Vegas? He and Cindy Sue had eloped.
Cindy Sue was twenty-four. Her age, and also, from the looks of it, her waistline in inches. She perched on Boris’s lap, where the major assets she brought into the relationship rested on his cheek. But Hayden had little time for snarky, sarcastic thoughts as he listened to Boris speak and his world came crashing down. His leg bounced, the only indication that his normally tight-as-a-drum nerves were on the brink of snapping.
“So you see, Hayden, now that Cindy Sue is my wife, there will be some changes. Her degree is in marketing, and she’s going to take over as my personal assistant.” Boris patted her butt, and Hayden didn’t miss the flicker of annoyance in her eyes, but herblindingly white smile never faltered. For a bank account of 2.3 billion dollars, Hayden would bet Cindy Sue would let a lot of things slide.
“I don’t understand, sir. I’ve been with you for close to six years, and it’s been a seamless arrangement.”
“Exactly, Hay. May I call you Hay?” Cindy Sue fluttered her lashes at him.
She didn’t wait for his answer, which would’ve been a resounding no.No one calls me that.He gritted his teeth and listened politely.
“Sometimes we get too comfy in our position and think nothing will ever change.” Hayden didn’t miss the subtle dig. “Now that Boris and I are married, I plan to be very involved in the business, and we came to the decision that I will be taking over your position. But don’t worry.”
Whenever anyone told him not to worry, he immediately began to have palpitations. His leg bounced faster.
“We’ll give you thebestreferences. I know how you kept this place running and Boris on track. But as they say in the pageant world, it’s time to pass the crown.”
A crown, Hayden envisaged, that would look perfect embedded in her head, but it would take too much strength to get it through the teased waves. “I-I’m just surprised, as you can imagine. I would think, that even if you did replace me”—he swallowed hard as those words he’d never thought he’d utter stuck in his throat—“you’d want me around to bring you up to speed.”
Cindy Sue massaged Boris’s neck, her long red nails bright against his pale, age-spotted skin. “I think I’ll manage.”
Meanwhile Boris, whom he’d served faithfully every day, even on weekends if needed, to the detriment of a personal life,merely sat there silent, a grinning fool. Unable to look at them any longer, Hayden drew together his torn self-esteem and rose to his feet, back stiff, eyes to the opposite wall.
“I’ll be going, then. Good-bye.”
He pivoted on his heel and strode out of the office. At his desk, he started removing his personal items—a coffee mug, various colored sticky tabs, pens. It all barely filled his daily work bag. Six years’ worth of nothing.
The receptionist scurried over to him, goggle-eyed behind her black-framed glasses. “What’s happening, Hayden? What’re you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Hayden removed a bottle of extra-strength aspirin, a box of antacids, and an empty prescription bottle for migraine medication. “I’m packing.” He tossed them into his bag.
“Why? What’s going on?”
He huffed out a sigh and hefted the bag to his shoulder. “I’ve been fired. Boris got himself a wife, and she’ll be taking my position.” His lips pressed together until they hurt. “Keeping it all in the family.”
She blinked rapidly. “You’re kidding. You? They fired you?”
He winced. “No need to repeat it, please.” He glanced around at the job he’d given everything to, and without another word to her or other curious colleagues, head held high, he walked out.
