“I pride myself on my unique ability to anticipate what you might need at any moment. I always try to be one step ahead.”
“I need that. I’m busy from six in the morning to around seven at night. Overseas markets compose a vast majority of my business, so when the day starts here, it’s already half over for that part of the world, and you would need to coordinate the two sides.” He sipped his drink. “Is that something you think you can handle?”
“Not an issue. My last position was at a worldwide shipping company, so I’m well versed in handling international work.” He kept a careful watch on Morgan’s eyes and saw the approval. His pulse quickened. This could be it. The work sounded like something he could immerse himself in.
“I know. You worked for Kunoff. I’m looking for someone who shares my passion for perfection in everything.” His gaze lingered on Hayden. “You have that same drive, I feel.”
“I do. I’m very driven in everything I do.”
Morgan’s lips tugged up. “I’m glad to hear that.” He finished his drink, while Hayden hadn’t touched his. “How do you feel about working late hours? Or early mornings? Do you have a wife or girlfriend making demands on your time?” There went that enigmatic smile again. “A needy doodle-dog?”
“No. Nothing. I’m there for you.”
“Whenever I need you?”
Like a cobra, Morgan struck quickly, and Hayden found himself under a very hard body, being kissed until he swooned, not from passion but from lack of air. Then Morgan reached to cup his groin and Hayden froze. A man like Morgan could do whatever he wanted to whomever and get away with it. Money gave him that power. Hayden had to stop it.
Now.
“Don’t. Please. I don’t want to.”
“Oh, come on. You know the score. You do for me, and I’ll do for you. You’re giving all the fuck-me vibes.”
“No, I-I—”
“Two hundred fifty thousand a year, plus benefits,” Morgan murmured. “I’m very generous.”
More than double what Boris had paid him. All his money problems would be solved, and he’d just have to grin and bear it. It would be so easy to say yes.
“No.” He pushed Morgan off. It must’ve been the first time a man like him had heard that word in years.
Breathing heavily, Morgan regarded him. “I’m not giving options. If you want the job, take off your clothes.” With a sneer he reached for Hayden again.
“I said no.” It might hurt personally, but he had no choice. “That’s not up for discussion.”
Still, Morgan shrugged off his robe, revealing a fit, muscled body Hayden knew was achieved with an everyday personal trainer. “Yeah? Well, I say yes. Who’re they going to believe, you, or me?”
Hayden’s gaze was steady. “Oh, you, no doubt.” A vicious smile curved his lips. “But where there’s smoke, there’s fire, right? And my accusation will always be out there in the press because I will drop it into the very willing ears of reporters who are my friends. People will always wonder if it’s true or not. You won’t be able to get away with this shit.”
Morgan scrambled off the couch. “Get out.”
Hayden couldn’t leave fast enough.
**
At seven thirty the following morning, Hayden flung himself into the chair in front of Janice’s desk and huffed. “I thought you loved me.”
She glanced up at him from her computer screen. “I do. Why?”
“One interview was with someone who wanted me to be nothing more than a glorified housekeeper. First”—he ticked off a list on his fingers—“get his coffee and have his breakfast waiting on his desk. Second, bring his laundry to the cleaners and pick up from the tailors, whenever necessary. Third, make not only his personal appointments—something that’s part of my job, of course—but his wife’s, his children’s, and even the dog’s vet appointments.” At Janice’s snicker, he glared. “And take the dog for three walks a day. And the second appointment was no better. More of the same, but they hadthreelittle dogs. I am not a shit cleaner.”
“Just a shit-stirrer?” She cackled, then became serious. “Look, I didn’t know that’s what they wanted. They’re running Fortune 500 companies and put out requests for personalassistants.” Her finely arched brows drew together. “What about Charles Morgan? He’s a smart financier. Manages a multibillion-dollar hedge fund. He couldn’t possibly think you’re simply a step-and-fetch-it gofer.”
A shudder ran through Hayden. “He was the worst of all. My interview was at his house. It started in the family room. He wanted it to end in his bedroom.”
Her expression revealed a combination of shock, annoyance, and amusement. “I’m sure you handled that appropriately.”
His lips twitched upward. “I threatened to tell the press.”
