Page 6 of Keeping Denver

"Seeing as you fired the last two assistants you had and I have been carrying double the workload for weeks now, I made the call to hire her. Did you or did you not say it was up to me? I believe your exact words were, just find someone competent enough to answer the phone."

I can't see Mr. Hawk, but I imagine him grinding his teeth right now. "Is she even old enough to be working here? She looks like she's still in fucking high school," he continues.

"Denver is twenty-three according to her ID, Callan. Also, watch your language." Frances's voice takes on a tone I have yet to hear from her before. "Besides," Frances continues, "the last two assistants you hired were nitwits. They didn't know their asses from their elbows. Hell, Callan, the last girl interrupted you while you were on a conference call because she couldn't find the power button on the computer."

"That's beside the point, Frances. I don't think Miss Hollis is the right fit for the job."

Frances and Mr. Hawk are silent for a moment before I hear the words I knew were coming.

"I want you to find me someone else."

"I will…"

Frances' words are cut short at the sound of Kelly calling out my name.

"Denver. What are you doing?"

I whip around to see Kelly standing behind me with her hand on her hip and a wicked gleam in her eye.

My face heats, and my heart pounds in my chest. "I was just going to see if Mr. Hawk wanted some coffee," I say as my voice shakes.

Just as Kelly goes to open her mouth again, I feel a looming presence directly behind me. I don't have to look to know who it is. Not only do I smell his woodsy cologne, but I can feel his heat against my backside. When Frances steps out of Mr. Hawk's office, I turn around.

"Good morning, Denver. Mr. Hawk already has his coffee. So, why don't you come with me and we'll get us a cup." Frances looks down at her watch. "We still have ten minutes to spare."

I don't think twice to follow Frances as she sidesteps Mr. Hawk. When I chance a glance over my shoulder, I see him still rooted in place with his heated gaze fixed on me. I also notice how Kelly stands next to him for several seconds, waiting for him to acknowledge her. With a huff, she gives up and goes on her way.

Frances and I fix ourselves a cup of coffee in silence. As I am stirring in the cream and sugar, I feel I need to apologize. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping on yours and Mr. Hawk's conversation. It wasn't my intent. I arrived a little early, and when I heard my name…"

Frances waves her hand at me as she takes a sip from her cup. "No need to apologize, dear."

"Am I losing my job?" I ask.

Frances frowns. "Of course not. Don't you worry about Mr. Hawk. I can handle him. He knows I want you here and won't go over my head to fire you."

"You seem very comfortable with Mr. Hawk. How long have you worked for him?"

"Oh, I've known Callan since he was sixteen. He's very close to my husband. He's kind of like a son to us. I have been working here alongside him for close to seven years now. Ever since he opened this law firm."

Well, that explains why Frances has no qualms reprimanding Mr. Hawk on his cursing. I'm also curious as to how she came to know Mr. Hawk as a teen, but I don't ask.

The remainder of the morning passes quickly due to Frances adding more duties to my workload, which I found to be a bit overwhelming. At one point, I felt terrible for having to repeat questions, but Frances was patient with me. I nearly fell out of my chair when I saw how much Mr. Hawk charges for a simple consultation. Six hundred dollars for an hour of his time. He must be one hell of a divorce attorney because the man I talked to yesterday didn't hesitate to agree to the charges when he booked his appointment with my new boss over the phone. Being a bit curious, I took a quick peek at some other files, and find he takes on more pro bono cases than anything else.

Biting my lip, I let my curiosity get the better of me. Opening a second browser on the computer, I google the name, Callan Hawk. "Holy shit." The words tumble from my mouth. The first page that pops up is the most recent article on a tabloid magazine. Renowned attorney Callan Hawk slams the CEO of Loughtny Manufacturing, Richard Loughtny III in court. The Judge awards Mr. Loughtny's estranged wife 7.6 million dollars in money and assets.

The second article I pull up is from five years ago.

Callan Hawk, age 31, son of the late Thomas Rawley, is set to inherit his father's multibillion-dollar empire.

The article was five years ago. That would make Mr. Hawk thirty-six. Next, I pull up the image selection in Google to reveal photo after photo of Callan Hawk with numerous women on his arm. All socialites, actresses, and models. He doesn't appear to be photographed with the same woman more than once or twice, except one. The one I'm looking at now is of a model that he is pictured with the most. She has sleek black hair and is wearing a lavish white gown while clutching Mr. Hawk's arm at some gala, which doesn't surprise me. A man like Callan Hawk can get any woman he wants.

Not wanting to get caught googling my boss on company time, I quickly close the browser and get back to work.

Thirty minutes later, I've just finished adding a new appointment to his schedule for next week when the phone on my desk rings. "Mr. Hawk's office, how may I help you?"

"Well, hello, sweetheart. To whom am I speaking?" the caller on the other end of the line draws.

"Denver Hollis. I'm Mr. Hawk's assistant."