Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,2
as the Prius driver once again took his time edging back into the parking space. “Come on!” She honked the horn.
The driver slammed on the brakes and flashed her the middle finger.
“Great. Just great.” I’m about to lose my job, so fuck you back.
Why oh why had she taken this position to begin with? She wasn’t a pitchman, but her old college friend Rina, who also worked at HRTech, had talked her into it five years ago when Taylor had been fresh out of grad school and in desperate need of a paycheck. “You were born to work with people, Taylor,” she’d said. “You just smile and the room lights up.”
What a joke.
Yes, she enjoyed working with people and had a master’s in human resource management, but so many of the executives in these big companies, the ones who used HRTech’s recruitment services, didn’t have a clue about how to treat the people they spent thousands to find and hire. It was always about the bottom line and shareholder value—never about creating a workplace that employees genuinely looked forward to coming to each day. Didn’t they get that happy employees were more productive employees? It drove her crazy. But unfortunately, Rina had been right. Soon after starting at HRTech, Taylor had begun landing big clients and making good money—something she couldn’t easily walk away from given her student loans.
Yeah. Well, those are all paid off now. As soon as she was able, she’d start looking for a new job, something more meaningful, back in the Bay Area. Kissing up to men like Bennett Wade, who she’d never met but couldn’t stand because she knew his type, was not her calling.
The Prius finally got out of the way, and she zoomed past, taking the little road that led to the back of the building where luckily she found an empty spot.
Now thirty-five—Nope. Make that thirty-six—minutes late, Taylor ran in her black heels, clutching her laptop case in one hand and oversized brown leather purse in the other. Once inside the twenty-story glass-and-steel rectangle, Taylor made it to the elevator just in time to watch the doors slide shut in her face.
“Sonofabitch!” She jabbed at the elevator button and looked down at her watch, suddenly noticing several strange spots on the lapel of her black blazer. Oh, no. She must’ve missed a few drops of bleach when she’d spritzed the kitchen counters last night before bed. Cleaning helped her unwind and feel in control, especially when her crazy job made her head spin from the constant juggling. She had laid her blazer on the counter this morning while she’d been looking for her keys.
As she waited for the elevator, she freed her hair from its ponytail and finger combed the length of it over her lapel to cover the spots. The elevator chimed, and she jumped in. Moments later, Taylor arrived at the top floor and sprinted for the executive conference room where Vera waited, along with six senior managers, all of whom reported to Taylor.
“Hi, everyone. Sorry I’m late,” she threw her bag down on the long gray table that stretched the length of the room, “but I was stuck in traffic and then some jerk in a Prius was blocking the—”
“I assure you,” said a deep, cold voice, “that my poor driving was a direct result of a man my height trying to maneuver a vehicle meant for one of those emaciated, tree-hugging vegetarians.”
Oh no. Taylor gazed across the room at the scowling man in his early thirties wearing a black suit and seated at the head of the table. His thick, wavy brown hair was neatly combed back, and his eyes were a shocking pastel blue, almost too light to even be called blue.
Taylor actually stopped breathing for a moment as their eyes met and a chill swept over her entire body. Something about the way he looked at her made the room feel unsafe. Not in a “he’s psycho and going to murder me” sort of way; the man literally filled the entire space with his daunting presence. You weren’t sure if you wanted to bow down to him or run.
Yes, he was that intimidating.
“I’m s-so sorry about that,” Taylor said, taking her seat as gracefully as she could, “but as you can see, I was in a hurry to get here—”
“To meet you obviously,” said Vera, who sat closest to Mr. Wade. “And I know I’ve already said this, but I assure you that this is not