Marry Me G. Hauser (the chimp paradox .TXT) 📖

summaries of experience. “Okay, let me call Lauren and

see how much we can swing. I assume we need them full time?”

“I’m hoping we do. If not…?” She shrugged. “I’ll take

anything I can get.”

“Okay.” He checked his watch and already felt rushed. He

was losing the day and knew his weekend was shot with so many

events occurring he wouldn’t get anything done. And on

weekends? None of his contacts worked anyway. Everything

slowed to a crawl but him.

He picked up the phone and tapped his fingers on the desk

impatiently.

“Lauren Glass, may I help you?”

“Hey, it’s Braxton. You have a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“How much can we afford to pay a new employee?”

“Hang on. Can you give me a minute to open your account

file?”

He nodded and made a small noise in affirmation, and kept

typing on his computer as she worked out the numbers.

~

Fabian Rhys had done as much research on Braxton Todd’s

PR firm as he could online. He located the job opening on

several LA employment sites and scrambled to get his resume in

top order and submit it before the listing vanished. The job

market was still a tough battle and he was sick of temping at

offices. He wanted a real job, with challenging work, to keep

him interested.

Though the actual job requirements were enticing and right

up his alley, Fabian looked into the owner himself. And was not

impressed. The tabloids were not favorable to this PR man, and

it was ironic that an individual who promoted celebrities,

keeping them in the spotlight and looking good, couldn’t do the

same for himself. He was portrayed as a conceited, spoiled brat

who fucked men and women, appearing to be the ultimate

playboy and heartbreaker.

“Well, I’m asking for a job, not a date.” But he wasn’t keen

on working for a dick.

He adjusted his tie and suit jacket in the rear view mirror of

his older model Lexus and stuck a breath mint on his tongue. He

shut off his phone, picked up his briefcase, which had his resume

in it, even though he had emailed it, and climbed out of his car.

There was no reason he could not get this job. He was thirty-

five, had a bachelor’s degree in business administration with a

minor in computer science. He was adept at everything from

creating ads and graphics to composing proposals for clients.

Why he was working at a temp agency? He put it down to the

bad economy. It was the reason everyone was in the dumps now.

And he wasn’t ready to take a job for minimum wage simply

because it was permanent. Not with the resume and experience

he had to offer.

He stood a moment and looked up at the high-rise office

building, its glass and concrete façade. Wind blew strongly down

the east-west corridor but spring turned to summer quickly in

LA.

Inhaling, intending on giving it his best shot, Fabian entered

the lobby and stood at the elevator. He was ten minutes early, but

hoped that translated to punctual and reliable, not overeager.

After riding solo in the elevator to the tenth floor, Fabian read

the suite numbers on the walls and found the correct one. He ran

his hand thought his hair, straightened his suit jacket and entered.

~

Braxton spoke to a client as he tapped his computer keyboard

simultaneously. “I will have to check the schedule, Brad. The

amount of premieres this month and red carpet—”

Brianna poked her head into his office, making him lose his

train of thought. “Hang on, Brad.” He addressed Brianna, “Yes?”

“I have an applicant here to meet you.” She gave him a

discreet thumbs-up and peeked behind her.

“Uh…okay.” He nodded, gestured ‘one minute’ and went

back to his call. “Look, Brad, let me look into my schedule and

see when I can fit this in. Can I call you back?”

“Sure, Braxton. But call me today. You’re impossible to get a

hold of and your voicemail is always full and rejects my calls.”

“I know. I’m interviewing for another assistant right now.

Hopefully that will change.”

“Hire someone!”

Annoyed at the scolding, Braxton disconnected the call and

took off his earpiece, tossing it on his desk in frustration. He

stood, straightened his tie and suit jacket and ran his hand over

his hair. Opening the door to his office he immediately spotted a

strikingly handsome man wearing a designer suit, with

conservatively cropped brown hair and bright blue eyes.

The man rose to his feet and extended his hand in greeting.

Brianna said, “Braxton, this is Fabian Rhys. He’s interested

in working with us.”

The handshake was masculine and warm. No clammy palms

or limp grasp. Braxton met Fabian’s eyes. “Nice to meet you.

Why don’t you come in and have a seat?” Braxton was handed

his resume and an application form from Brianna. She gave him

a look. ‘A look’ that meant she liked Fabian. But hiring the first

applicant to walk through the door? Yeah, the guy was

handsome but they needed a hard worker, not a prima donna who

had an ulterior motive for working there and wanted to be a star.

Braxton gestured for Fabian to enter first, admiring his ass as

he did, closing the door behind him. He read the first few lines of the application Brianna had him fill out and saw Fabian was

thirty-five. Peeking up, he gestured to a chair and said, “Have a

seat.”

Fabian did, placing his briefcase beside him, looking

confident and powerful.

Braxton relaxed in the chair behind his desk and placed the

paperwork down. He leaned his elbows on the top of it and met

Fabian’s gaze. “I’ll work you like a dog. We’re overwhelmed.

Brianna and I go non-stop and we need someone to shoulder the

weight.”

“I know. She told me. I’m not afraid of late nights or hard

work.”

“Will it affect your family life if I keep you here late and

some weekends?”

“I’m single. So…no.” Fabian didn’t crack a smile, appearing

all business.

“How high is your tolerance for bullshit?”

“High. I’ve worked for many downtown offices where the

pressure was extreme. I don’t crack under pressure, if that’s what

you mean.”

“Why aren’t you employed now?”

Fabian snarled just slightly, and Braxton got a heat flash from

the sneer, imagining pinning this fucker to the bed and

hammering him good.

“I’m working. But it’s a temp position. When the economy

tanked, the firm I worked for went bankrupt. That was a year

ago, and I have been working consistently since then,