Marry Me by G. Hauser (best love story novels in english TXT) 📗

about the temp job? No. It was going to end

in a week, so screw them. This was permanent employment.

And…he was going to work with Braxton Todd…the man

people paid to get a dinner date with.

“Ha!” Fabian laughed loudly and rested his head on the sofa,

smiling.

Chapter 6

Monday morning, Fabian dressed in a brand new suit. Not only

did he feel nervous, he’d spent all day Sunday shopping for new

clothing. He had to look the part. He stood in front of the full

length mirror that was inside the door of his walk-in closet and

fussed with his shirt collar and cuffs, checking the cufflinks were secure, touching his hair. “Christ, I feel like I’m going on a first date.” He threw up his hands in defeat, made sure he had

everything he needed and left before he hit heavy traffic between

West Hollywood and the downtown core. On his way, he called

the temp agency.

“Hi, this is Fabian Rhys, sorry for not giving notice, but I got

a full time job offer beginning today.”

“Okay, Fabian. Thanks for calling and letting us know. Good

luck.”

“Yeah. I’ll need it.” He hung up and focused on the traffic,

looking up at the sky and wondering if it would rain. It certainly

seemed threatening.

After a half hour he pulled into the parking lot of the high-

rise building and searched for a parking spot. He had to pay for

the parking and wondered if as an employee he would get a pass

or have the amount added to his check. It was a hell of a lot of

money to spend out of his own pocket every day.

He pulled into a tight space between a cement pillar and a

minivan, checked his phone for text messages, and headed to the

elevator. The sensation of butterflies in his stomach was driving

him insane. Riding up to the tenth floor, he walked into the lobby

of the small office to see Brianna on the phone. She smiled

brightly and pointed to a cardboard holder with three cups in it.

Covering the receiver of the phone she said, “That one’s a tall

latte. You like?”

“I do!” He was very pleased and removed the cup from the

holder. As she spoke he noticed not only two other coffee drinks

but a yogurt parfait with fruit and granola as well. He allowed

her to finish her conversation, sitting on one of the leather seats near her desk and though there were magazines on the low table

beside it, he didn’t reach for one. The front cover of a glossy

weekly tabloid had a photo of Alexander Richfield and his new

husband, both wearing black tuxedos with a caption that read,

‘ Alex tied the LAPD SWAT knot! ’

Married. The thought of marrying a man crossed Fabian’s

mind quite a bit. But his Mr Right had remained elusive.

Just as he had that thought, Mr Todd entered, appearing

rushed but fabulous, carrying a briefcase. The scent of his

cologne made Fabian’s mouth water.

Brianna, still on her call, tilted her head to Fabian, since

Braxton did not see him sitting there. Braxton spun around and

Fabian stood and reached out his hand. This time the touch was

electric to Fabian. “Thanks for hiring me, Mr Todd.”

“Call me Braxton. And you’re welcome. You won’t thank me

when you see the amount of work you have to do.” He released

the clasp, picked up the cardboard carrier with the coffee and

yogurt and entered an office, shutting the door.

Brianna finally ended her call and said, “Okay! Paperwork

for the payroll and taxman, then I’ll train you to take care of

these celebs. How does that sound?”

“Fine.” Fabian was still reeling from the coldness from

Braxton.

“Come here. I’ll show you your office. It’s been vacant for

ages, and I’m so glad to have it filled again.”

Fabian followed her down a hall. At least someone

appreciates me. He sipped his coffee and entered a small but well lit room with a view out of the window of the buildings

across the avenue. The walls were bare and Fabian wondered if

he could add artwork to cheer it up. A large flat screen computer

and multi-line phone were on the desk.

“Okay.” Brianna gestured to the black swivel chair and

Fabian sat. “I’m going to send out your email address to all our

clients. Be prepared, we have a ton of them. That way you can

begin fielding their requests, helping both Braxton and I out.”

Fabian set his cup down and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Let’s

go. I want to hit the ground running.”

“You have no choice!” She laughed. “Log on. I already set

you up with a password.”

He faced the screen and tapped it to wake up. “Go for it.”

“Braxton’s angel.”

Fabian peeked at her.

She nodded. “Yes! You can change it. Just use it for now.”

Fabian didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. He

typed it in and the menu opened to a multitude of desktop

devices.

“See those files?” She stood behind him. “That has all our

clients’ personal info. Totally confidential. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“This file, all our caterers, photographers, designers…”

Fabian was still slightly stuck on ‘Braxton’s angel’. But

nodded, trying to take in all the new information.

~

Braxton ate his yogurt while talking on his Bluetooth. “Friday

night I have you speaking for the Animal Shelter awareness

night.”

“Cool.”

“Don’t go all anti-fur, okay? I know you’re a big PETA

advocate, but this is about homeless dogs and cats.”

“Braxton.”

“Just saying.” He finished his breakfast and tossed the cup

and spoon into the trash. “Promote yourself and your new book,

toots. You got it?”

“Got it. Thanks, babe.”

“Bye.” He disconnected the line and sipped his coffee. Once

he had a gulp he began typing on his computer in response to

emails and heard a light tap at his door. “It ain’t locked!” he

shouted.

Brianna entered and shut the door behind her. “I sent all the

tax forms to your accountant. How much are we paying him? We

haven’t even told him yet.”

“Christ. Uh.” Braxton stopped typing and rubbed his face.

“Forty grand a year. Ask him if that’s okay. All the benefits.”

“If not?”

“If not?” Braxton gave her an exasperated look. “If not, I’ll

get a college grad or an intern!”

“Braxton!” She scowled at him.

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his face and deflated. “I’m under too

much pressure. I have that stupid charity dinner tonight. And

tomorrow! And