Two minutes until I called Julia Russell to offer her the job.
Two minutes to second-guess a decision I'd already made.
Stone had laid two folders on my desk that morning. Background checks, complete and thorough.
Julia Russell. Lori Johnson.
"Can't say there's anything wrong with either," Stone had said. "But you should go with Lori."
"Why?"
"Because you want to hire Julia for the wrong reasons."
He wasn't wrong. But he also wasn't right.
"I'll be working closely with my assistant for long hours," I'd told him. "There has to be chemistry or I'll get annoyed. Annoyed people make mistakes."
"Chemistry." Stone had given me a look. "That what we're calling it now?"
"Professional chemistry."
"Sure. And I'm the Pope."
But he'd also admitted he couldn't give me a concrete reason NOT to hire Julia. Her background was clean. References checked out. Experience solid.
The only red flag was my attraction to her.
Which wasn't actually a red flag in the business sense. Just a personal complication.
I could handle personal complications.
Two p.m.
I called.
She answered on the second ring. "Hello?"
"Julia, it's Quentin Vanetti."
"Mr. Vanetti." Her voice warmed. "Right on time."
"I try to be punctual. Do you have a few minutes?"
"I have as long as you need."
Something about the way she said it made my pulse quicken.
Professional. Keep it professional.
"I'll get straight to the point. I'd like to offer you the executive assistant position at Vitality Ventures."
Silence. Then: "Really?"
"You sound surprised."
"I—no. I mean, I'm thrilled. Thank you." A pause. "I won't let you down."
"I know you won't." And I did know. Whatever else Julia Russell might be, she was capable. Intelligent. Driven. "When can you start?"
