Chapter 2 Jenny Bailey

I accepted the job offer.

After I got that email two days ago, I froze when I read through the terms and figured the pay was fifty dollars per hour. More than enough to rent my own apartment and send to mom.

And really, I could learn a few more things about acting from inside. But I had a rule: stay far away from my new boss; I had no desire to become one of the girls in his bed.

Now standing on the first floor of Reed Media industry, I plastered a smile on my face, exhaled and sauntered into the closing elevator. A woman hurried in too, hitting my hand and spilling her coffee on my shirt.

“Careful,” I said calmly, hating how lenient I was most times. But being stern never solved anything, just got you enemies.

Still, I fantasized spilling the same amount of coffee on her designer dress. I mean, she just ruined my borrowed shirt. I had nothing corporate, so my plain black skirt and white shirt outfit were from Lyra’s wardrobe.

“Sorry dear.” She glanced at me then smiled. “You should clean up in the restroom on the eleventh floor.”

Fantastic. Exactly how I wanted to start my first day. But the bright side was, I was headed to the eleventh floor.

Pressing my lips together, I nodded and pinched my soaked shirt off my skin as the elevator climbed.

When it dinged open, I sprawled out in a jolt and my breath seized. God, the interior was immaculate. The glass ceiling-to-floor walls glistened from the morning sun.

It was still unbelievable that I’d be working here. I gulped, then shuffled straight to the sand-toned desk where a lady handed a badge to me before directing me towards the restroom.

I wandered down the hallway, pretending I wasn’t intimidated by the wealthy looking faces who walked past me. When I got to the last door, I tucked a strand of my brown hair behind my ear, then pushed it open.

A fluttery feeling struck my stomach and I gaped, staring at the racks of clothes and shoes lined through each corner. I clearly wasn't in the restroom.

The sound of water was coming from behind a second door inside the room. Probably an actor getting ready.

I ducked in and dropped my handbag on the floor, then quickly unbuttoned my stained shirt. Now left in my bra, I ran my hand through the tons of large men’s shirts on the rack.

Rather than waste another minute, I sighed and picked out one, slipping into it. The door opened.

Shit. Shit. Shit. A bare-chested Weston Reed stood some feet away from me, water dripping from his hair. One dark brow rose slowly as he watched me suspiciously, not making a move to cover himself.

“Are you stealing my shirt?”

My body broke out in a cold sweat and all I did was stare. I was too stunned to talk.

Up close, he looked even better. And his chest… Oh my god! Now I completely understood the ladies who couldn’t resist him.

Blinking, I glanced down at the white shirt that swallowed my figure, then back at him. “I-my shirt was stained. I thought this was the actors dressing room.”

He looked amused as his gaze dragged over me. “Are you an actor?”

He reached for a towel from one of the racks and stretched both hands over his head, pressing his hair with the towel. More muscles popped out.

“Yes.” I was still peeking at his chest. Wait, what? What did I just say? I looked away. “I mean no. A new employee, I started today.”

“Jenny Bailey?”

“Jenna.” Adrenaline rushed through me and I tightly clutched the sleeves of the shirt. I should be annoyed that he mispronounced my name, but I was more scared that someone of his kind almost knew my name.

He dropped the towel then walked towards me. I shifted, staring up at his tall figure.

“You have my favorite shirt on, Jenny.” He picked out a brand new shirt, wore it, fixating his brown eyes on me. “I’d pardon you since it’s your first day. You’re not allowed into my dress room. Clear?”

I breathed slowly through my nose. “Clear.” I guess I had a new name then. Willing to leave, I grabbed my bag and rushed out. God, how was I going to endure his cockiness?

I walked back to the lobby to get settled in properly. It was a different lady behind the desk now. And this one meant business. No flicker of smile.

“Jenna?” She adjusted her white suit when I dropped the visitors badge.

“That’s me.” I forced a smile. Her nose wrinkled as she stared at my oversized shirt.

Did she know whose own it was? Was she part of the ladies who entertained him? My chest tightened at that thought.

“I’m Pauline. Executive assistant,” she replied. “Follow me.”

She led me to an office directly opposite the door with CEO on it. “Your office,” she said when we stepped in. “I hope you know it’s a probationary contract.”

“I do.” It was included in the email. I glanced around the office and breathed a sigh of relief. It was larger than our sitting room at home.

“Good. To not get fired before your contract expires, I’d advise you to keep to the company rules. Mr. Weston can be quite a character. Also, he doesn’t allow workplace romance here.”

This lady was getting on my nerves. She folded her hands over her chest, her eyes dropping to my shirt again.

“Consider not wearing your boyfriend’s clothes to work next time. Mr. Weston’s last assistant was fired for kissing a spouse during working hours.”

“That’s not a problem. I’m single.” I’d been single for six months, after I finally found the balls to end my one year situation-ship on my twenty-fourth birthday.

God, I hated remembering that experience. But I guess it was for the best, especially since Lyra was my assigned therapist during my healing process. Yep, that was how I met Lyra.

“Here’s his direct line, for emergencies.” Pauline dropped a card on the desk before leaning up.

I smiled. “Thanks, Pauline.”

“Ma’am Pauline.” Her lips twitched and she started walking towards the exit. A pause, she glimpsed at her phone then turned. “There’s a press interview scheduled to start in twenty minutes. Mr. Weston insists that you’re present there.”

My pulse sped up. Yeah, right. I should have known Weston Reed would make me attend an interview in his oversized shirt.