Mr. Wellington's Temptress

Cambrie

“How do I look?” I cringed as I stood in my living room waiting for my BFF to hit me with the truth.

Her bright blue eyes washed over me from head to toe. It made me nervous when she didn’t answer right away. Her expression remained blank while she scooped a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. And then another. I was about to ask her ‘That bad?’ when she nodded slowly saying, “You look pretty good.”

“Really?” I was never one to press or search for an accolade, but had she not taken so long to reply I wouldn’t be doubting her opinion of me. I wiped the palm of my hands down my black pencil skirt that ended just above the knee. I found it last week at the thrift store along with a white blouse and matching jacket.

Again, she nodded and took another bite of ice cream. “Lose the jacket.”

“Are you sure?” I pressed. “The jacket is the only thing that’s working here I think.”

“No. It’s definitely not.” she said, bluntly. She flipped her long black hair off her shoulder.

Reluctantly, I removed my jacket.

“Much better.” She gave a more assuring nod this time. “Take the heels off and put your black flats on.”

I really don’t like her advice about the flats. “I’m five—four. Flats are just going to make me look stubby.”

“Those heels don’t coordinate with the outfit.” With a mouth full of ice cream she adds, “Rust me.”

I roll my eyes and head back to my bedroom filled with dread. I’m only listening to her because Jasmine has a great eye for fashion. Unlike me.

“How can you bat your eyes so fast?” Jasmine was now leaning against my door frame.

“Lots of practice.” And that was the truth. Having grown up in the foster system with my sister, there were lots of traits and habits we picked up. Thanks to all the empty threats we received regularly, heavy eye rolling was one of them. Removing my heels, I set them in my closet and slipped on the flats.

“Okay. Let me look at you.”

I faced Jasmine and waited for her approval.

“One last thing.” Setting her generic mint chocolate chip ice cream on my dresser, she kept the spoon in her mouth and reached for my sleeves.

“You’re going to get me dirty,” I scolded, pulling my arms back out of her reach.

“Mmo em mot,” she replied. Wiping her hands down her ripped jeans she held them up with raised brows showing me they were clean before tackling my sleeves.

“Vere,” she said, taking the spoon out of her mouth. “Now, you look amazing.”

I looked in the five-dollar floor length mirror. She was right. I did look much better. “Thank you, Jasmine.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to check and see if Genevieve is awake.” My niece Genevieve is two years old and very shy. I took her in six months ago when my sister, Felice, died of an overdose. Felice had never touched drugs a day in her life— until she met her last boyfriend, Julio. Genevieve has never cried for my sister, but I know she misses her. She rarely talked when Felice was around but since her death Genevieve hasn’t spoken a word. I took her to the doctor, and he assured me that she was perfectly fine and would speak when she was ready. ‘Some kids take longer before they talk’ he said. I hoped that was true.

Cracking her bedroom door open, I peered inside as I stepped over the threshold. Curled beneath her comforter, her long lashes rest against her cheeks. Her hair was still in pigtails atop her head— One of which was halfway from falling out of the clear rubber band. Her pink comfort blanket was secured between her head and the pillow. I want to reach out and run the back of my knuckles down her soft cheek. I don’t because I know she’ll instantly wake up if I do.

“Isn’t she an angel?” Jasmine whispered.

“She is.” I agreed with Jasmine but kept my eyes on Genevieve as I stood. “Thanks again for watching her for me,” I said, closing Genevieve’s bedroom door as we stepped into the hallway.

“No need to thank me.”

I grabbed my purse and fought rubbing my hands down the front of my skirt to rid the sweat that’s gathered on my palms. I’m so nervous. “Wish me luck?” I cringed.

“I’m not wishing for you, Cambrie . . . I’m praying.” Jasmine’s face was nothing but apprehensive. “Tell me why again you are trying to get a job there?”

“Because Wellington Global is the best place on the planet to work. It pays well and I could desperately use the extra bump in income.” How did she not know this?

“On the planet?”

“Yes, Jasmine. On the planet.”

“I’m pretty sure you made that up.”

I ignore her comment and continue, “Did you know he gives his employees the best health benefits and the retirement plan—”

“How is it the best place to work when Mr. Wellington himself is described as the devil?”

My hands shoot to my hips. “The devil? Really? Where did you hear that?”

She pointed to the T.V. that was currently off. “Have you watched what they say about him on the news?”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve never heard anyone refer to him as the—”

“He’s mean, Cambrie. And very demanding. I’ve never seen a tabloid or interview of him smiling. Not even with those arm candy’s he’s always lugging around. What does that tell ya?”

“It’s not like I’ll be working for him directly.”

“Well . . . again, I’ll be praying for your mental wellbeing today.”

I looked at the clock on my stove and seeing that it’s three minutes after six, I nearly panicked. It’ll take me an hour and a half to get to Wellington Global by bus. From what the woman told me over the phone I needed to arrive thirty to forty-five minutes early to check in for my scheduled interview. Why? I hadn’t a clue. I started to ask when I was cut off with a rude ‘If you don’t want your interview, then don’t come early’. So, I have no other choice but to go in early. “I gotta go.”

֎

I stood in front of Wellington Global. The seventy-story building was immaculate. And intimidating. The architectural design resembled something between the Shard and the Burj Khalifa. Behind those massive, mirrored glass windows lay an opportunity that many would die for. Sure, it was only an errand job. The lowest of low, but if I was able to land that, the advancement opportunities that lie ahead were endless. Taking a deep breath, I wiped my clammy hands down my skirt and force one foot in front of the other. I reached for the metal handle when a large hand beat me to it.

“Allow me.”

I glanced over my shoulder and stepped back as the man pulled the glass door open. “Thank you.”

“Least I could do for a beautiful woman.”

I’m not used to compliments from a man dressed in a fine tailored suit like he is. I’m used to crude comments about my body or cat calls. I take another look at him. His blond hair was styled to perfection and by the looks of how his suit fits he clearly worked out regularly. He’s slightly tan from outdoor recreation which helps his hazel eyes pop. Attractive or not, I don’t let his words affect me.

I don’t reply and stepped inside. He quickly fell in sync with my stride asking, “You work here?”

“No.” I shook my head as I faced him. “I’m here for an interview.”

He then grinned, “Toni,” offering me his hand.

Reluctantly, I place mine in his. “Cambrie.”

“Cambrie. Unique name.”

I gave a slight smile. I’ve heard that precise comment a hundred times. “It was nice meeting you.” I turned away. I don’t make it three feet before he’s at my side again.

“What position are you applying for?”

I don’t want to tell him. Clearly, he was someone important given his fancy suit. How could I possibly tell him I was considering myself lucky to just be able to fetch his coffee? I swallowed hard and glanced away briefly. I bit my lower lip and turned my attention back to him. “I’m applying to be an errand girl.”

His eyebrows furrowed. He eyed me from head to toe. I’d like to say that it’s the first time I’ve had someone check me out so blatantly. But it’s not. Far from it. I will say it did make me more on edge because there was a slight possibility that I’ll be fetching his coffee. When his eyes settled back on mine, he asked, “On what floor?”

“You know that’s the first thing I wondered when I read the posting? Unfortunately, I’ll have to hold my curiosity at bay until my interview.”

A rich chuckle erupted from him. “Beautiful. Great personality. A true rarity.”

I looked at my phone and saw the time. Inwardly, I curse. “Again, it was nice meeting you, but I gotta run.” I checked in with security and after walking through the metal detector I waited with a crowd of people for one of the elevators to open. I can’t help but notice that everyone is dressed to the nines. Hearing the ping, everyone grew impatient as the doors slowly opened. As some rushed in, others were rushing off— Yelling out to the man closest to the operating panel to press the number to their floor. Seeing that my number was pressed I remained quiet. I’m not claustrophobic but being shoulder to shoulder was unnerving. I made sure that I was the last person to step on the elevator so that I was in front of the door. Or so I thought.

Before the doors close, a hand wedged between them, popping them back open. And there he was.

Toni.

Taking his stance beside me had forced everyone else to shift their position. “What floor?”

“Thirty-four.”

“What a coincidence. That happens to be where I’m going.”

“Coincidental indeed.” From the corner of my eye, I couldn’t help but notice the inquisitive leers casting between me and Toni. It made me wonder if he ever set foot on the thirty-four floor.

“Who’s doing your interview?” he whispered, as he leaned closer to me.

“Jennifer,” I replied. He smelled of sandalwood and spice. He smelled quite good.

“Jennifer who?”

“You’re full of question’s, aren’t you?” My laugh was strained with nervousness. I couldn’t help it. I felt interrogated. In a harmless way.

The woman behind him glanced at me with eyes like saucers. The elevator pinged. Seeing that I had thirteen floors to go I stayed put as several people shuffled out. I wasn’t surprised to see that Toni hadn’t moved. You know. . . since he just happened to be going to the same floor as me. We went up a few more floors before the doors opened again. The people waiting to step inside looked at Toni like they were surprised to see him. When they tried stepping on, he held his hand up stopping them. Clearly, this Toni character was more important than I had initially realized. I grew even more nervous.

Had I been too lippy? Too saucy? I do get that way sometimes. And I’m not too proud to admit that I’ve wedged my foot in my mouth more than once.

He then turned to the remaining people behind us. “And this is where all of you get off.”

As they scurred off the elevator, he pushed the button making the doors close. All I could do was stare at him.

Who is he?

We went up two floors before he turned to me. “You’re unlike any girl I’ve ever come across.”

I shifted my weight to one foot nervously. “How so?”

“Normally when I flirt with a woman, she picks up on it and flirts back.”

“Oh!” I bit my lower lip and face forward. “Didn’t realize that’s what you were doing.” I wasn’t lying.

“I want to take you to dinner.”

“I can’t.”

“I didn’t say which day.” I heard the ring of amusement in his voice.

“I assumed you meant today,” I lied. I couldn’t have dinner with him. People of his stature didn’t do dinner with women like me. Wealthy people tend to stick to their own crowd. I am not wealthy.

“Name the day.” He gave me a grin that possessed so much charm I’d be shocked if it didn’t cause women to turn to putty in his hands. Why it didn’t me? Because I have thick mile high walls that I hide behind.

I looked at my phone. I really needed to get to my interview.

“How about this . . . you give me your number and I’ll call you and we’ll set up a date.”

He must have seen my reluctance because he scoffed as he smiled at me. “Please? Just one date. And if you’re not wanting another one then I’ll back off.”

The elevator slowed down, and the door pinged. Seeing that it was level thirty-four I quickly said my number before stepping off. “Let’s see how good you are with numbers,” I say with cheek.

Grinning at my challenge, he stepped off the elevator and gave me a wink before he turned down the hallway. I watched him walk away for a moment noticing that though people are greeting him good morning, they are obviously confused why he’s on this floor. I turned away and headed to the receptionist desk.

“How may I help you?” The woman was didn’t smile an inch. Her gray hair complimented her olive skin.

“I’m here for my interview.”

Did she just roll her eyes? “Name?”

“Cambrie Alba”

She typed away on her computer before she pointed to the double doors on my left. “Through that door. They’ll call you when they are ready to see you.”

“Thank you.” I opened the door and my jaw nearly hit the floor. If I had to guess, there were roughly thirty people already sitting and waiting. No wonder that receptionist rolled her eyes at me. I was thirty-nine minutes early. How early did they all get here? I take in my surroundings. It didn’t take a genius to discover that I wasn’t up to par. Their attire was hands down extravagant with hefty price tags. A handful of them wore either a dress or skirt that were far too short to be deemed appropriate for the office. But that was my opinion. It didn’t matter what I thought though. And why would it? I had clearly missed the memo where it stated the stature in which I had to uphold to even be considered.

I couldn’t pretend to not notice the looks of disgust thrown at me. Nor the whispers and giggles. Not that I need confirmation that I didn’t fit in here. I guess they wanted to make sure I knew.

A sudden wave of dread hit me. I knew now that I wasn’t going to get the job. Not when they were the ones I was up against. I didn’t stack up. Not by a long shot. I turned around and as I pushed through the doors to leave, I nearly fell back as I ran into something solid.

All I could do was gasp. My chest and stomach were on fire.

“Shit.” I recognized the voice instantly. Toni. “Shit. I’m so sorry.”

As he stepped back, I leaned forward and grabbing my coffee-stained shirt I peeled it away from my skin— hoping I wasn’t reveling my cleavage. “It’s okay.” I winced. Damn did it burn. I glanced up and saw Toni staring at me with a blank face.

“I thought I’d bring you a coffee while you wait,” he frowned, feeling guilty. “And I thought I’d put in a good word for you with Jennifer.”

“I appreciate the thought.” And I did.

“You didn’t happen to bring an extra shirt, did you?”

I shook my head. “That would be a ‘no’.”

“Well—” he said with a sigh. “You can’t go in there like that.”

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “It’s alright I was on my way out anyway.”

“What?”

“Huh?” I arched my brow with confusion.

He pointed to me. “You said that you were on your way out. I saw the line in there and there’s no way you got your interview yet.”

“Oh—” Well, hell. I hadn’t meant to slip that I was a coward running out of here as if the fire alarm went off. “No. I ah— I haven’t had my interview.”

“Then why are you leaving?” He tossed the empty coffee cup in a nearby garbage can.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” And I didn’t. I wasn’t about to make excuses on why I was leaving. It was hard enough facing the fact that I was a chicken. I didn’t need to try and cover it with a lie. Frankly, it was too much work. “I really do appreciate you offering me a coffee and trying to put in a good word for me, but I need to go home and change.”

“Hold on a sec.” He lightly grabbed my arm stopping me. His face lit and the mischievousness I saw made me leery. “I have an idea. Follow me.”

I glance around now noticing all the eyes that had been watching us darted back to their tasks at hand. Seriously—Who was he? I cleared my throat. “Alright.”

I followed Toni towards the elevators. He stopped in front of one that had a sign that read ‘Private Elevator’ and swiped his card. Once it opened, he motioned me to step on. “After you.”

We rode to the top floor in silence. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel like there was an elephant in the room even though there was. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he was carrying a conversation through text with someone. I followed him off the elevator and into a large corner office. Its modern decor gave it a clean crisp atmosphere.

“Here’s the shirt you requested.” I turned to find a woman in her mid-sixties with gray highlights handing Toni a white shirt. It was pristinely folded. The woman gave him a chastising glare. She pulled her wireless rim glasses down her nose. “I better not get the brunt end of this.”

“Thank you, Anna.” Toni held it out to me. “Here.”

“I can’t take your shirt.” I was mortified. Who, I assumed was his secretary, stared at me with a single raised brow. Her frown indicated that he didn’t care for me very much.

“Don’t worry about the shirt,” he chuckled. He pointed towards the door to the left corner of his office. “You can change in the En Suite.”

I’m apprehensive about the idea of changing in his bathroom. The day has turned out strange to say the least. I looked to where he pointed and back to him. Thankfully, the secretary had left. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He pointed again. “Go.”

Unnerved, I bit my lower lip and waited a minute before I accepted the shirt and shuffle my feet toward the bathroom. Just before I shut the door I heard him yell, “Feel free to take a shower if you need to clean up.”

No way that’s happening. “Oh, my—” my voice trailed off in my bewilderment. The bathroom was gorgeous. It was larger than my whole apartment. The black vein marble covered the walls and floor. A large piece of glass separated the sink from the shower. Did he seriously have five shower heads? I saw a frosted glass wall in the opposite side of the room and opened the door to find a black toilet that looked more like a twisted piece of art you’d fine in an art gallery. Refusing to shower, I wipe my chest and stomach with a damp towel. My skin was still pink from where the coffee hit. I removed my visitor badge and tossed my coffee-stained shirt in the trash bin. Taking a good look at the shirt on the counter, I glanced at the palm of my hands. Even though I washed them I had to make sure they were clean. I had never seen a shirt so white. The buttons on the front glittered. I reached out and touch what I presume were Swarovski crystals. Carefully I unfold the shirt and slipped it on. His shirt was huge on me, but it was better than wearing my ruined one. The material was unlike anything I had ever put on. I had felt Egyptian cotton and that was the closest thing I could describe it as. After tucking it in I pulled it out a little so that the shirt wasn’t peeping below the bottom of my skirt. In fear of losing the cuff links, I left then on and tried my best to mimic Jasmine’s fancy sleeve folding. I put the visitor pass in my purse because I wasn’t about to tarnish the crisp white shirt in any way.

I stepped out to find him behind his desk on what looked like an important call. I smiled and gave a partial wave showing him my appreciation as I try to sneak out.

“Hold on Donald.” Toni covered the lower part of the handset as he pulled it away from his ear, muffling our conversation from whomever was on the other line. “I called downstairs, and Jennifer is expecting you. I put in a good word for you. You’re welcome.”

The wink he tossed made me smile. He didn’t need to go through all the trouble of helping me. If I had to guess, he was pry hoping this would help his chance of us having dinner.

“Thank you.” I motioned to his phone. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Donald, go ahead.” He said putting the phone to his ear once again. With his free hand, he mimicked a Rad sign bringing it up to his ear, mouthing, ‘I’ll call you.’

I shook my head with amusement. There’s no way he had remember my number. Not for how quickly I blurted it. Just before I shut the door, I heard him say, “Oh—hey, Donald, is the boss nearby?” He then added, “Tell him I need him in my office ASAP. Tell him it’s urgent.”

I was halfway down the hallway when I spotted a woman up ahead. She was wearing a very provocative dress as she carried a small white cardboard box flanked by two security guards. She stepped onto the elevator followed by security with tears streaking down her face. I turned my gaze when a tall man wearing a gray suit rounded the corner.

I recognized him immediately and my jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Good morning, Mr. Wellington,” a man said from behind me.

“Dennis.” He addressed the man all business like. Authoritative.

My stomach plummeted seeing him in person. He’s been nominated for most eligible bachelor for three years in a row. The man was breathtakingly handsome. The photos and interview’s I’ve seen don’t do him justice. How is that even possible that he’s even hotter in person? He’s known for being one of the worst notorious players. Truly, he could have any woman he wanted eating from the palm of his hand. Which currently was Jasmine Hart. A super model from Norway.

Shocker, I know.

Just as he was about to pass by me, his pale gray eyes landed on my chocolate one’s and my breath hitched. They were mesmerizing. I could see that though they nearly translucent, they were scattered with silver specs along with a dark silver ring outlining his iris. Embarrassed that he caught me staring at him, I glanced away trying not to think about how gorgeous he was.

I took a deep breath. Reaching the elevator, I pressed the button for the elevator. The hairs on the back of my neck suddenly tingled. I felt like someone was staring at me. I glanced to my right as nonchalantly as I could. There were a few people in the hallway, but they paid me no mind. Hesitantly, I looked to my left and my stomach leaped to my throat. Brimsley Wellington stood in the hallway with one hand in his pant pocket and the other rubbing his jaw as he spoke with one of his employees. His gaze, however, wasn’t on the man he spoke with. They were on me. Roaming everywhere but my face. Did I really look that bad? I looked at the front of my shirt and seeing the buttons my heart began to pound. Most likely, Brimsley Wellington noticed that I was wearing a men’s shirt.

How freaking embarrassing.

I looked at Brimsley again to find him still checking me out. I was about to look away when his gaze landed on mine. Heat rushed to my cheekbones. I knew I was blushing, but could he see it? I surely hoped not. I hoped my Latina skin hid it well. At the chime of the elevators, relief washed through me knowing my escape route presented itself. I broke our gaze and stepped on the elevator. I knew I shouldn’t have looked, but just before the doors closed, I peered up only to have his eyes lock with mine once more.

What was I thinking?

Clearly, I wasn’t.

No doubt he’s used to being gawked at. I’m not one to stare. But then again, I’ve never ran into someone such as Brimsley Wellington. I rode the elevator down hating that it stopped every few floors. When the doors opened on floor thirty-six, there were two security guards standing waiting to climb on. Seriously, they looked like NFL linebackers. They weren’t the one’s that escorted that woman out earlier, which didn’t come as a surprise. I’m sure he had a large crew working for him.

The one with blonde hair and light freckles held the door open as the other grabbed his phone and made a call. The rest of us on the elevator glance to one another wondering who was the unfortunate soul that was getting canned. Gladly, I knew I was in the clear.

“We found her.” The man’s baritone voice held a southern accent. “What are your instructions, sir?” There was a pause. “Yes, sir.”

I watched him hang up and tuck the phone back in his pant pocket. “I need everyone but you—” he pointed right at me, “to step off the elevator immediately.”

Everyone looked at me with sympathetic gazes and suddenly I had a lump in my throat. I pointed at myself once I’m alone on the elevator. “Me?” I looked around to make sure this wasn’t some joke.

I walked backwards until my back was plastered against the wall as the two guards stepped on. “Is this about me skipping out on my interview?” Neither of them spoke to me let alone turned around. I saw one of the guards swipe his card and pressed the button for the sixty-eighth floor. Great . . . it’s the floor Toni took me to. The same floor I was running away from.

“Look, I’m headed there now. Jennifer is expecting me as we speak. If you need confirmation, you can ask Toni.”

Again, nothing.

I tried again. “The interview is on thirty-four. Not sixty-eight.”

Still, nothing.

“Is this because I’m not wearing my visitors pass? I have it right here.” I start digging in my purse when one of them stopped me.

“I don’t need to see the pass, mam.” The blond man’s voice carried but I could tell he was trying to speak softly to me.

The elevator made no stops—That is until we hit the top floor. “Follow me,” the southern accent one said. I glanced at the buttons on the panel debating whether I should push a button or not in means of escape. I wondered how far I’d make it.

Pry not far.

I stepped off and right away I was sandwiched between them as I was forced to follow the one with the southern accent. I tried my best to ignore the stares from people as I was ushered down the hallway. We passed Toni’s office, and I was glad to see that his door was still closed. Reaching the far end, the guard opened a door, and I followed him inside.

“Here she is sir.”

They must have been given the cue to leave because they moved aside in means of heading for the door and when they did, I got a clear view as to who the man behind the desk was.

Brimsley Wellington.

Great.

Just, great.

What the hell did I do to deserve this?

I heard the door close, and my heart felt like it dropped to the floor. He didn’t say anything. I was beginning to get self-conscious as he roamed his eyes over my face making his way over my body before they settled on my gaze once again.

Why does he keep looking at me like that?

He motioned to one of the leather plush chairs across from his huge wooden desk. “Have a seat.” His voice was smooth but demanding.

I shook my head. It wasn’t that I was trying to be difficult. Honestly, I couldn’t get my legs to move because my feet were cemented in place.

He stood and skirting his desk, he sat on the corner. “What’s your name?” Was that humor I saw in his gaze?

“Cam—” I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, “Cambrie Alba.” I wasn’t one to stutter. Now I looked like an idiot.

Terrific.

His lips formed into a light grin and frankly it surprised me because I’ve never even seen a hint of a smile in any tabloids. I wanted to tell him he should smile more because he’s even hotter when he does.

The amusement in his voice melded perfectly with his grin as he said, “Care to explain to me, Cambrie Alba, as to how you wound up falling into my shirt?”