After I put on my lipstick, I looked at the clock. 7:45 a.m. "Holy s.h.i.t," I said out loud, slamming the lipstick on the counter and practically tripping out of the door. I had fifteen minutes to get to the office for the interviews that were starting at eight, or my father would have my a.s.s for breakfast. It didn't help that the rain was pouring, I forgot my umbrella upstairs, and the streets had inches of water covering them. People in Houston did not know how to drive when it rained. It was a war zone on the freeway, every man for himself, and I knew the 610 loop would be full of accidents. Apparently, in bad weather, people liked to drive like their insurance was better than the next guys, and I didn't want to risk it.

As soon as I got into the car, I called the office. "Jane," I said breathlessly. "Please tell my dad that I will be there as soon as possible."

She sighed on the other line. "Your dad is in the conference room already, and so is your grandfather."

"s.h.i.t," I said.

"They are about to start interviews. How long until you're here?"

"I'm about twenty minutes away. The rain is slowing me down."

"Alright. I'll try to stall. Just get here as soon as you can," she said and hung up the phone. Though she was my dad's secretary, she still had an alliance with me in situations like this.

The rain pounded against the window so hard that I could barely see. I looked down at the odometer and noticed I was only going thirty. I pulled off the freeway and took a road that ran parallel with Westheimer, and what a f.u.c.king mistake. I hit every red light all the way down for three miles. By the time I showed up to the office, my hair had curled from the rain, my clothes were wet, and the clock had just ticked 8:30 a.m. Sometimes, I woke up and knew whether days were going to be good or bad. Somehow, I knew this one was sent to me straight from h.e.l.l.

The security guard met me at the front with an umbrella and saved me from more rain. He shook his head at me, and I gave him a sideways grin. We both knew I looked like s.h.i.t, but it didn't matter. As soon as I stepped off the elevator, Jane met me and gave me the run down of this guy.

"Lawyer. Just pa.s.sed his bar. Had high marks in school and interned at a high-profile company in New York. Apparently, he is qualified, and boy is he a looker," she said. The last comment caught me off guard, because Jane was uptight with things like that.

"How do I look?" I asked her outside of the conference room where my certain doom awaited me.

"Like s.h.i.t, but there is nothing you can do about that now." She opened the door and, before I could say anything, she basically pushed me inside.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. VanBuren," she said, then the door clicked behind me.

All I could see was dark-brown hair and a navy suit. My father and grandfather glared at me for a long second as I walked in.

"Mr. Williams, please meet Ms. Roxane VanBuren. She is the President of VanBuren Investments." Everyone stood, and he turned and shook my hand.

Firm handshake, nice smile, high cheekbones, and long eyelashes.

Jane was right. This man was a looker.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Roxane VanBuren," he said, then smiled. His voice dripped confidence and professionalism.

"Please, call me Roxane. It's nice to meet you, as well."

He slightly tilted his head and looked at me suspiciously. Had we met before? There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't quite place it. We released hands, and I joined my father and grandfather on the other side of the table.

"Now, where were we, son?" Pops asked, and continued, "so you were just telling us about your internship in New York."

"Oh, right. Mr. Jameson didn't tolerate tardiness. He had this saying that if we were ten minutes early, we were on time. If we were on time, we were late, and if we were late, we were fired. I learned punctuality from him, and was a sponge when it came learning the in's and out's of corporate law."

I glared at him. Was he really making a jab at my tardiness during his interview? Was he f.u.c.king insane? Was he intentionally trying to blow this interview? Too many questions flooded me as my heart raced.

"Mr. Jameson is one of the most prominent lawyers in the United States. He had glowing remarks about you, son, which I know isn't an easy feat, considering the man. Oh, we go way back, so it isn't an insult. You come to us highly recommended, Mr. Williams," my father said.

"I see you live in Austin. How do you feel about relocating?" I asked.

"Well, as I told both Mr. VanBurens earlier, it's not a problem. My brother lives in Spring, and has no problem with me staying with him. It's not too far of a drive, maybe thirty-five minutes. If I am the successful candidate, I can be here as early as you want me to be."

My father and grandfather gleamed with delight, but Parker Williams was already p.i.s.sing me off. Why would anyone in their right mind act like this toward their future boss? It was almost as if I had offended him in some way. What in the h.e.l.l did I do?

He turned his head to speak directly to my dad. "Sir. I can guarantee you that I will do everything that I can to make VanBuren Investments proud. I've done my research on the company, and I have had several offers for positions at other places, but this is where I want to be. I love how you give back to the community and are family oriented. It really says a lot about the mission statement that's hanging in the waiting area. I take pride in my work, and I want to take pride in where I work. VanBuren Investments would give me that opportunity."

And that was when my dad fell in love with Mr. Williams. I could see it all over his face. I wasn't sure what was said before the interview, but at this moment, Parker Williams seemed too c.o.c.ky for me, and I hated how he tried to b.u.t.ter everyone up.

"Well, Mr. Williams. Do you have any questions for us?" Pops asked.

"When can I start?" He laughed, and I wanted to roll my eyes. That was the oldest, corniest question in the book.

"We will be placing acceptance calls in the next few days. I believe we want everyone here by Monday. If you find you have any questions in the meantime, here are our cards. Please feel free to reach out to us at any point," my grandfather said. Then it was over and we all stood.

Parker firmly shook my hand and told my dad how much of a pleasure it was to meet him and my grandfather. After he saw himself out, my grandfather turned and looked at me with a scowl, but before he could say a word, my dad interrupted. "Unacceptable. Unacceptable, Roxane. You were aware that the interviews started at eight a.m., weren't you?"

"Yes, sir." I felt twelve again.

"And? Any reason as to why you decided to walk in here late? You should have just stayed in the hallway and waited. Next time, do not interrupt an interview that's in progress. It throws everyone off of their game. Not to mention, it makes you look bad."

"Yes, sir," I said. There was no use retaliating. This wasn't the first time he'd talked to me like a child, and I was sure it wouldn't be the last. My skin had grown thick over the years because it was my dad being, well, my dad, but with his boss hat on. I released a deep breath.

"Go get some coffee, Rox. You look like s.h.i.t," Pops said with a smile.

"Thanks, Pop." I walked over and poured myself a cup of steaming hot coffee, then sat down at the long conference table. They each had notes scribbled on paper about Parker Williams.

"So, what did you think?" I asked, while sipping the coffee.

"I want to hire him," Pops said, and Dad agreed.

"But we haven't see any other candidates yet," I said.

"If Jameson would give him a high recommendation like he did, then I want him. Jameson is a total a.s.s, who thinks no one can do any good. He said Parker was the best intern he'd had, that even he offered him a job, but Parker said he wanted to be in Houston, and that he wanted to work with us. That says a lot about our company. And I don't doubt one bit that he has had offers from all over. He's one of the most wanted new corporate attorneys right now."

Pops looked at me. "What do you think, Rox?"

"He seems arrogant, doesn't he? Like he knows that he is good?"

"He is good," Dad said, then continued, "he's more qualified than anyone else, and I think he's the one. I just have a good feeling about him. I believe he would be a good addition to the VanBuren family."

"We will continue on with the interviews scheduled for today, but at this point, someone will really have to dazzle us to beat him," Pops said.

After four hours, and every single person saying he or she was a hardworking employee, I knew that no one had come close to Parker Williams. I wanted so badly for someone to be better, more qualified, have a better recommendation, but the truth was, not one of them had.

After the last interview, my dad laid every resume out on the table. I was mentally exhausted. The attorney position would be between Parker Williams and Lou Hoang.

"Alright, we will vote," Pops said. "For Parker."

Dad and Pops raised their hand, and I sat there staring at them with no hand raised.

"Outvoted, pumpkin. You two will work fine together."

"Fine," I said, raising my hand. "I kind of knew this would happen. We have to do what's best for the company, and he is the most qualified. There is just something about him."

"Confidence is what we need in a lawyer. Maybe you could learn something from him," Pops said.

"I do not think so," I said quickly, and the att.i.tude in my voice wasn't lost on my dad, but he ignored it.

"So, let's decide on the secretaries. It's between Christina and Penelope," Dad said.

We raised our hands and discussed further. Christina won the vote unanimously.

"Now, let's decide on the accountant. We've got Duke, Grant, and Denise," Pops said.

I looked over at the clock hanging above the door. It was close to five, and I knew that I might as well stay until seven because the traffic wouldn't be worth fighting.

"My vote goes for Duke. He seemed the most personable. You know how accountants are. Death, doom, and destruction, with hardly any personality," I said.

Dad spoke up, "I take offense to that. I've got personality."

"Sure you do, Dad."

Pops laughed, and we all decided on Duke.

Dad stacked the winning resumes in a pile, and handed them to me. "Call them tomorrow, pumpkin. Let them know they were the successful candidates. They can show up on Friday for a tour of the building and lunch with us, or we can do it Monday. Whichever day they choose."

"Yes, sir. I'll do it first thing in the morning," I said.

We all stood, happy with our decisions. I walked back to my office and thought about the new people that would be joining our family as I looked over their resumes.

Parker Williams was in bold lettering across the top. It was actually one of the best-formatted resumes I had ever seen, and confidence dripped right off the pages. Imagine that.

SINGLE: VOLUME 1 BY LYRA PARISH.

10.

The night was upon me, and I couldn't sleep. I stared at the ceiling and thought about the day. First impressions were so important to me. I hated arriving late, but it seemed as soon as I walked in, Parker was interviewing me, not the other way around. There was something about him, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on what it was. It could have been how my dad was so in love with him, or the fact that he was borderline c.o.c.ky. If he ended up being s.e.xist, I would be putting my size nine in his a.s.s in the form of workload, of course. I shook my head and rolled over in bed. For hours, I tossed and turned because my brain wouldn't stop thinking. I opened my phone and texted the Bartender.

Me: Hey. I'd love to meet up for coffee sometime next week, if you're available.

My phone dinged, and my heart slightly raced. I opened the message and read: Bartender: Sure. I'd love to. Just let me know when and where.

Me: There is a wonderful little deli downtown that serves coffee. It's called Ch.e.l.lo's. It's close to where I work so I can meet up during my lunch break, if you want.

Bartender: It's a date. Let me know when.

Maybe I'd ditch the whole single gig. As much as I've avoided real feelings, I've known deep down that I shouldn't cross out the possibility of being with someone again. I have always heard that love happens when a person least expects it. I had become a walking contradiction after meeting him twice. To be in a relationship or to not be in a relationship, that was the question. Somehow, Mr. Bartender was already making me crazy. I shook my head because it was just coffee. It was harmless. And if it was during my lunch break, there would be no romance.

I closed my eyes. The next thing I knew, my alarm was buzzing in my ear, and I felt like I'd had zero sleep. I hated nights of restlessness.

I stopped by Starbucks on the way to work. The line wrapped around the building, but I had left early enough that I could wait thirty minutes and still be on time. The last thing I needed was my dad chomping on my a.s.s today. It was Tuesday, and I knew the day would be full of meetings, in addition to checking over a project for approval. It was odd, how I viewed each project between every step, but my dad was a micromanager when it came to spending millions on anything. I couldn't blame him.

My coffee was too hot to drink, and the bagel to difficult to eat while driving, so I carried my little brown bag and coffee inside. Most of my employees knew not to talk to me until after nine, unless it was important. There were many reasons for this. One being, I wasn't a morning person. Another was that I had hundreds of emails to sort through every morning, and I liked to do it first thing, without interruptions. If I didn't, and waited until later, my inbox would be out of control.

When I walked into my office, I closed the door. The resumes were waiting on my desk for me. I shuffled through them again, hoping we'd made the right decision. I turned around in my chair and looked out the windows that lined my entire back wall. I'd often joke with Dad that I was going to turn my desk around so I could look outside while I worked. He wasn't amused.

The sun cast a soft yellow glow over the city, and the clouds were little dots. Every so often, pink, purple, and blue would peek through. While I hated mornings, I loved looking at the sky. The airport wasn't too far away, and I watched the planes zoom through the sky as I sipped my coffee. Next thing I knew, I heard a throat clear behind me. I spun around and looked my dad straight in the eye.

"Great of you to come in early. Are you done playing?"

I stared at him, unamused. "What can I help you with, O' Father of mine?"

"Have you called the new people yet?"

"Not yet. It's first on my list."

"Ask Parker if he can be here tomorrow. I know it's last minute, but the team is getting together to discuss potential risks in the expansion project, and I want him to be there. He's got insight on this type of thing. I think he can help bring some new blood to the table."

"Sure thing, Dad."

"You can get back to clouds and sunshine now," he said with a wink.

I smiled at him and rolled my eyes, as if I needed his permission. I pulled over fifty hours a week, not including the work that I did from home, that didn't even count. He just loved giving me a hard time in the morning.

I took a sip of white mocha and called Parker. He picked up within the first two rings. What a loser.

"Parker speaking." He sounded like he had been awake for quite some time, and it was still early.

"Good Morning, Mr. Williams. This is Roxane VanBuren from VanBuren Investments. How are you?"

"Fine. Thank you. How can I help you?"

"We've come to a decision on the position you've applied for, and I'd like to offer you the job. If you're still interested, that is."

Silence. I didn't hear anything on the other line.

"Mr. Williams?"

"I'm sorry. Yes. I'd love to accept."

"Great. If you'd like, you can come in and sign the final paperwork today. Also, my father requested that you be here tomorrow morning at eight for a meeting with the law team. You wouldn't have to stay-"

"That will be fine, Ms. VanBuren. I will be there for the meeting in the morning and will drop by in an hour or so to sign the paperwork."