30. Drew

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Claire

Jared has been one of the best bosses I've ever worked for. I've only been here a week, but so far, it's been pretty good. The week I took to recover turned into a week of moving into my new place. Of course, I wasn't allowed to do anything but point to where I wanted things. I'm still in pain, but it's much better.

I have a limp from the nerve damage and the twisted ankle, so getting around takes time. When it gets too uncomfortable, I use my assistant. That's right—Drew didn't want me overdoing it, so he had HR hire a temp to handle anything that required more mobility. She does most of the legwork while I handle the computer work and paperwork.

Daisy just graduated from university and comes from money. This job is basically where her dad "parked" her while she figures out what she wants to do in life. Her dad said she needed a little "tough love." Boy, do I wish my life was so good that tough love meant being a half-assistant to a hot billionaire.

Somehow, Daisy hasn't figured out that Drew and I are married. She wears low-cut blouses—or leaves about four buttons undone—so we all get an eyeful of her very obvious boob job. She pairs that with tight pencil skirts or ones with high slits. It's not quite a fireable offense, but she takes every opportunity to go into Drew's office.

He hasn't noticed her—not really. He only ever pays attention when asking her for something. I shouldn't care. But I do.

Daisy comes out of Drew's office wiping at her smudged lipstick and tugging her skirt down. She's been telling people Drew is really into her. I know for a fact he hasn't done anything with her—he mostly acts like she doesn't exist.

Drew walks out after her, one hand in his pocket and eyes on his phone. He looks up and sees me at my desk. His face lights up as he heads over.

"Well, hello Mrs. St. Claire. Can I take you out to lunch?"

Daisy huffs. I smile politely.

"No thanks. I brought lunch, so I'll just eat in the staff room."

Daisy perks up. "Oh, well I'm hungry, and I know a cute little place close by! Claire, do you want Drew and me to bring back something for you?"

I chuckle. "No, Daisy, I'm fine. But thank you."

I sit in my wheelchair and reach for a folder to organize while I "eat", but then I see Drew rounding the desk and grabbing the handles behind me.

"Here, let me push you to the breakroom. Daisy, great idea—grab me something from that place and I'll eat it here with Mrs. St. Claire."

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Daisy goes from smiling to fuming in seconds.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me, Drew? The food tastes so much better fresh!"

Drew finally looks at her. "I'm sure, Daisy. And please call me Mr. St. Claire. Also, I'm not sure what your daddy allows you to wear at the other jobs he arranges for you, but button up at least four of those buttons. This is a workplace. If fashion is more your thing, our fashion department might need an assistant."

I stare at the floor, jaw hanging open. Oof. That had to sting.

Daisy nods, grabs her purse, and bolts toward the elevators.

My new wheelchair—courtesy of my boss' boss—is electric. I reach for the controls, but Drew says, "Disengage it. I'll push you."

I glance up at him.

"If I say no, will you yell at me like poor Daisy? That girl practically ran out of here."

I switch off the motor, and Drew starts pushing me.

"She's been hitting on me for the last few days. When she comes into my office, she always unbuttons another button, then gets irritated when I don't look at her. I've already asked HR for a replacement."

He wheels me into the staff room and asks where my lunch is so he can grab it for me. I shrug.

He frowns.

"You didn't bring a lunch, did you?"

I shake my head.

"I just didn't want to go have lunch with you, Drew."

He studies me for a second, then nods.

"Okay, Claire. I'm sorry. Mrs. St. Claire. Would you like me to wheel you somewhere else, or are you going to sit here for your lunch break—with no food?"

"No, thank you, Drew. I can drive myself back to my desk. I have work to do."

He follows me back, then heads for the elevators and leaves.

I am starving and feel stupid for turning down food, but if I don't hold these boundaries with Drew, it'll all just slip back to how it was before.

So, I set the folder back on my desk and get back to work.