Accidentally Married

Accidentally Married

Copyright © 2014 by Victorine E. Lieske. All rights reserved.

First Kindle Edition: June 2014

Editor:
Cherise Kelley

Cover and Formatting:
Blue Valley Author Services

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

Victorine E. Lieske

PO Box 3

Seward, NE 68434

www.victorinelieske.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

This book is dedicated to all of the many people who helped shape it into something readable, including all of the wonderful critters over at the Critique Circle. Huge thanks go out to The Local Muse Group, including Lisa Kovanda, Gina Barlean, C.K. Volnek, Kathryn Gilmore, Mary Unger, Dee Feeken Schmidt, Sabrina Sumsion, Brenda Walter, Sydney van ver Heijden, and Belinda Kennington. My thanks also go out to my fine beta readers, Yoly Cortez, Lisa Bjornberg, RJ Licata, Sandy Ewald, Craig Hansen, and Alex Brantham. This book would never have come to pass without help from all of you! *DPGROUP*

Chapter 1

M
adison pulled her car into
the parking spot, relieved she found an empty space so close to the building. Even though it was only mid-morning, the temperature had risen to an uncomfortable level. A long walk would make her look like a melted ice cube by the time she entered Jameson Technologies. And she couldn’t give a bad impression. She needed this job.

Three weeks of handing out résumés and filling out applications, and she hadn’t gotten anywhere. She’d promised Carrie she would pay her half of the rent this week, but her bank account was empty.

She shoved the car into park, and it sputtered, choked, and then died. Running the air conditioner always made it feisty. At least the poor thing didn’t die on her while driving...most of the time.

She picked up her satchel and stepped out onto the pavement. Heat assaulted her, and she ran a self-conscious hand through her hair. The last few days her horoscope had the theme of something new on her horizon. This was it. Her something new was this job, she was sure of it. She squared her shoulders and tried to put more confidence in her step.

The tallest building in Crimson Ridge stood before her in all its horrific, shiny glory. The impersonal glass reflected the sun into her eyes. The rest of the business district held older buildings with detailed architecture. Jameson Technologies was an eyesore.

As much as she hated the building, she hated mooching off Carrie even more. Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she neared the glass doors. Her stomach clenched.

Even though she’d never been an administrative assistant, it couldn’t be hard. As an actress, she had played several small roles, one of them a secretary. Granted, she had only been on camera for ten seconds before the building blew up, but she had answered the phone and stared at her nails, and she felt like she had embodied the part.

She pulled the smooth metal handle, and the glass door glided open. The lobby felt cold and impersonal with its sleek lines and modern fixtures. Everything was either silver or beige. Down a short hallway to the right, an elevator caught her eye, and a large reception desk sat on the left, which she approached. The woman behind the desk gave a tight-lipped smile.

“May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Jameson.” She tried to sound confident, like she belonged in a place like this.

The woman’s eyes traveled the length of her, and she pursed her red lips. “He’s been waiting for you.”

“He has?” Madison tried to keep her mouth from falling open. When Carrie told her a position at Jameson Technologies was about to open up, she didn’t realize her roommate had set up an interview. What luck.

The receptionist nodded, the corners of her mouth pulling down in disapproval. “Go straight up to his office. Twenty-third floor.”

Madison strode across the expensive tile floor to the elevator. She pressed the up button and stepped back. Her heart fluttered in her chest. If she played this right, she could be employed by noon.

Carrie was a life saver. Last night she overheard a woman at the shopping center talking about how she was quitting her job. Like a true friend, she asked around until she found out the woman was Mr. Jameson’s administrative assistant.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Madison stepped inside and pressed the button for the twenty-third floor. According to Carrie, the woman indicated she would waltz into Mr. Jameson’s office this morning and quit. If the stars aligned, Madison would secure the position before they even called a temp agency.

Her stomach dropped as the elevator lifted and the numbers above the door rose. She smoothed her black skirt and forced herself to think about being an administrative assistant. Answering phones, filing, and…answering phones. Exactly what she was born to do.

The silver doors opened, and she stalked out into another lobby. This one was smaller, but decorated in much the same way. The woman behind the desk reminded her of a bull frog. Large round eyes set wide, a double chin, and a frown that went from one side of her face to the other. A silver name plate revealed her to be Darlene.

For a split second, Madison panicked. What was the assistant still doing here? Carrie made it sound like the woman, Darlene apparently, was going to quit first thing. But her worries fled when Darlene motioned for Madison to pass. “Mr. Jameson wants to speak with you right away.”

Darlene must be sticking around to train the next employee. A rush of excitement shot through Madison. That could be her.

She straightened her spine and walked past the desk and entered the office. Huge windows took up the entire east wall, and a fantastic view of the town spread forth. The rest of the spacious office held filing cabinets, an expensive mahogany desk, and some leather chairs. The man behind the desk was much younger than she had imagined the CEO of a large company would be, probably only a year or two her senior. His stormy grey eyes focused on her, and then narrowed.

“You’re late.” A scowl formed on his face and he stood, his gaze traveling over her. He wore a tie and a white dress shirt, which showed off his muscular physique. His jet black hair was neatly styled, probably some kind of corporate cut.

Confidence,
she reminded herself.

Madison crossed the room and extended her hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jameson, I was not aware Carrie had set up—”

“And what are you wearing? You look like you’re going to a business meeting.” His scowl deepened, which she thought wasn’t possible.

“I uh—”

“Never mind. You’ll do.” He grabbed a briefcase from the floor and strode across the room, past her, and out the door, which he left open.

Madison stared after him. What happened?
You’ll do?
What did that mean?

He stuck his head back into the office. “You want the job, or what?”

Her pulse raced. She got the job! “Yes, sir!”

“Come on, then.” He motioned with his head.

She jumped into motion, following him until he stopped at the elevator. He must want to give her a tour of the place. Unnecessary, but it didn’t matter, she got the job. She felt like doing a little leprechaun dance, but settled for a satisfied smile.

They stepped into the elevator, and she became aware of their close proximity. Masculinity rolled off him. He smelled of aftershave and expensive soap, and she had to step back in order to clear her head. He was her boss. She couldn’t think of him as anything else.

He pressed the button marked B2. He must want to show her everything, from the basement up. She shrugged. Okay. After they descended, the doors opened and Mr. Jameson disappeared into the parking garage.

Warning bells sounded in Madison’s head. What was going on here?

“Come on,” he called, his voice echoing through the dim space. “We’re already late.”

She stuck her head out of the elevator and spotted him stalking toward a black luxury car. It beeped and the doors unlocked. “Wait...I—”

“What? Are you having second thoughts?” He stopped and glared at her. “I don’t have time for this. I’ll double your pay. A thousand dollars for a few hours of your time.”

Alarm rang through her. What kind of job was this? She gripped the elevator door jam, keeping the doors open. “I think there’s been some kind of—”

His phone rang and he held up his hand to silence her. “Yeah?”

He opened his trunk and slung his briefcase into the back. “Wait, what?” His piercing gaze traveled over to her and froze. “Okay. Thanks for calling.” He jammed his finger on his phone to hang up, then he slipped it into his pocket.

“You’re not Nathan’s cousin.” His glare was accusing, and he folded his arms across his chest.

She shook her head, confused.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Madison Nichols. I’ve come to apply for the administrative assistant position that recently became available.” Her voice sounded paper thin to her ears.

Mr. Jameson’s shoulders slumped and one corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m sorry. I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“I’ll say,” she mumbled.

He started toward her but stopped when she shrank back. “Listen, I’ve got to go to a family function this evening, and it would ease the tension if I brought a date.”