Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Merrick

“Mr. Crawford?” My assistant, Andrea, poked her head into my office while I was eating lunch with Will. “Sorry to interrupt, but HR asked me to find out if you might have time to talk with one of the candidates for the in-house therapist position?”

I shook my head. “I don’t need to talk to the applicants. I already gave my input to Joan. HR is holding second-round interviews and will let me know what they think when they’re done.”

“Apparently one of the candidates asked if she could have a minute with you after her appointment with HR. But her meeting is starting now, and I know you don’t like anything on your schedule during trading hours.”

“Which candidate?”

“Evie Vaughn.”

I leaned back in my chair with a chuckle. “Sure. Why not?”

She nodded. “I’ll let her know.”

Will lifted his chin after Andrea shut the door. “What was that little grin about?”

“One of the candidates for the stress therapist job is interesting, to say the least.”

“In what way?”

“Her first-interview appointment wasn’t until five one day last week, so when the market closed, I ran downstairs to Paloma to pick up a suit I’d bought and had tailored. After I left the store, I thought I’d forgotten my cell phone in the fitting room, so I went back to check. When I opened the door, I walked in on a woman.”

“I hate those places that have one fitting room for both men and women.”

“Actually, this place has separate ones. The woman was just in the men’s room. But that’s not the best part. When I walked in, she was half undressed…and smelling her armpit.”

Will’s brows shot up. “Come again?”

“You heard me right. Anyway, a few minutes later, my five o’clock appointment walks in, and it’s her. The woman from the fitting room.”

“The pit sniffer? Get the hell out of here. What did you do?”

“Nothing. I played it off like I didn’t recognize her, though she definitely recognized me. I could see her squirming.”

“Shit like this only happens to you, my friend. So what went down? How did the interview go?”

“She was the least-qualified candidate. I don’t even know how her resumé made it into the group that got called for interviews.”

“Yet she’s back here today for a second interview?”

“She is, indeed.”

Will shook his head. “What am I missing?”

“When I got home that night, I started thinking about how the board is shoving this position down my throat. They mandated that I hire someone, not that the person be competent.”

Will smiled. “Genius.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t enough that I offered to pay for counseling for anyone who wants to go. They had to push me into getting a full-time person onsite and requiring every employee to attend during their workday at least once a month. I need my people to be focused and ruthless while they’re here—not getting in touch with their emotions.”

“I hear you.”

As we finished lunch, Andrea returned and knocked. Evie Vaughn stood right behind her. Her wavy blond hair was up today, and she wore a simple black skirt and jacket with a red blouse underneath, giving her the sexy-librarian look every male fantasizes about at least once in his life. I tried to ignore the stir seeing her caused in me and forced my gaze down.

Andrea peeked her head in the door. “Do you need more time?”

I looked at Will. “We need to discuss anything else?”

He shook his head. “Not that I can think of. I’ll get the Endicott buy order placed as soon as it hits forty a share.”

“Good.” I turned my attention to Andrea. “Please show Ms. Vaughn in.”

Will left, tossing me a smirk over his shoulder as he passed Evie.

When the door shut, she took a few steps forward, then hesitated. “Thank you for seeing me.”

I nodded and gestured to the guest chairs on the other side of my desk. “Have a seat.”

“Your assistant mentioned you don’t usually take appointments while the market is open.”

“I don’t.” Leaning back, I tented my fingers. “What can I do for you, Ms. Vaughn?”

“It’s Evie, please. And…well, I was hoping you could clear something up for me.”

“What would that be?”

“Why am I here? For a second interview, I mean. You made it pretty clear during the first one that you didn’t think I had the right experience for the position, and I didn’t exactly make a winning first impression in that fitting room. So…why am I here again?”

I folded my arms across my chest and deliberated how to answer. The politically correct and professional response would’ve been to say I’d reconsidered based on how she’d handled herself during the interview. But I’d never been accused of being politically correct or professional.

“Are you sure you want the real answer? Sometimes it’s better not to know and just accept the outcome.”

She folded her arms across her chest, mimicking my posture. “Maybe, but I’d like to know anyway.”

I liked her spunk. It was a challenge to keep myself from smiling. “You were invited back because you are the least qualified of all of the people we interviewed.”

Her face fell, and I felt a tinge of guilt, even though she’d said she wanted the truth.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because hiring an in-house stress coach wasn’t my idea. My board of directors is forcing my hand.”

“Is it a problem because it wasn’t your idea?”

“I employ a hundred-and-twenty-five people whose jobs are to give me ideas.” I shook my head. “No, I don’t have an authority issue, Ms. Vaughn.”

She pursed her lips. “Doctor—it’s Doctor Vaughn. I prefer to be called Evie, but if you insist on using formal etiquette, you might as well use my proper title. I hold a PhD in clinical psychology.”

I couldn’t hold back the smile that time. I nodded. “Fine. No, I don’t have authority issues, Doctor Vaughn.”

“So you’re against the position, in general, and you wanted to hire the worst person to prove a point?”

I nodded once. “You could say that.”

“Are you against therapy?”

“I believe some people can benefit from therapy.”

“Some people? But not your employees? Do you believe your employees don’t have any stress in the workplace?”

“This is Wall Street, Ms.—Doctor Vaughn. If it weren’t a stressful job, my average trader wouldn’t earn seven figures. I just prefer my people to be focused while they’re here in the office.”

“Did you ever consider that you might be looking at things backward? Taking an hour out of the day to speak to someone isn’t what’s interrupting a stressed-out person’s focus. They’re already not focused because of their stress level. Therapy could help center someone so they can concentrate better.”

“Noted that there’s more than one way to look at things.” I studied her for a moment. “Is there anything else you wanted to ask? Or have we reached the point in the discussion where you tell me you hope we never see each other again?”

She smiled shyly. “I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t an appropriate thing to say.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. Believe it or not, I’ve been accused of being inappropriate a time or two myself.”

She laughed as she stood. “Gee, I never would have guessed that from the man who sniffed me during my interview.” Evie held out her hand. “Thank you for your time. And your honesty.”

I nodded and shook.

“One more thing. I hope you don’t mind if I push my luck by making a suggestion.”

I arched a brow. “I can’t wait to hear it…”

She smiled. “If you have to hire someone, why not hire the best person you can? Your employees deserve it, and you never know, the outcome might surprise you.”

• • •

That night, my head of HR, Joan Davis, waved as she passed my office. It looked like she was on her way out for the night. I opened my door and called after her. “Hey, Joan?”

She stopped and turned back. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Why did we pick Dr. Vaughn to interview?”

Her forehead creased. “You emailed and asked me to have her come in.”

“No, I don’t mean for round two. I mean the first time. The other candidates all had more experience, so I was curious as to what made you pick her for the initial interview.”

The line between her brows deepened. “I was referring to the initial interview. You instructed me to include her when we started the hiring process.”

“I instructed you? I’d never met her before the other day when she came in.”

“But you told me your grandmother might refer someone for the position, and when her resumé came in, to include her in the first interview round.”

“I didn’t think that resumé ever came in. The woman my grandmother knows is...” I closed my eyes. “Shit. Evie is short for Everly, isn’t it?”

Joan nodded. “I assumed you knew all this. She wrote that she was referred by Kitty Harrington in her cover letter, which was included with the resumé I gave you.”

I hadn’t bothered to read the cover letters. They were usually bullshit, just a place to drop annoying buzzwords. “I must’ve missed that.”

“Oh. Well, I apologize. I should have pointed it out before you started the interviews.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. My fault. Have a good night, Joan.”

• • •

Later that evening, I decided to give my grandmother a call. It was almost nine by the time I got home, but she was a night owl. Besides, I was overdue, which I was certain she’d remind me of. So I poured two fingers of whiskey and picked up my cell.

“Well, well, well…” she said when she answered. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to get on a plane and open a can of whoop ass on you.”

I smiled. That didn’t take long. “Sorry, Grams. It’s been too long. Work’s been really busy.”

“Ah, that’s horseshit and you know it.”

I chuckled. “How are you?”

“Probably about the same as you, only better.”

I really missed this woman. “I’m sure you are. What’s new? You still dating that guy, Charles?”

“Oh honey, it really has been a while. Charles got the boot at least two months ago. I’ve moved on to Marvin.”

“What happened with Charles?”

“He ate dinner at four o’clock, wore house slippers out of the house as shoes, and didn’t like to travel. I’m seventy-eight years old. I don’t have time for that boring stuff. Did I tell you we’re related to Ava Gardner?”

“Ava Gardner was an actress, right?”

“A damn good one, too. She always had these big, full lips. It’s probably where you got that pouty mouth of yours.”

My forehead wrinkled. Grams was already halfway down the road, and I was still stuck at the intersection. “How does Ava Gardner relate to Charles?”

“She doesn’t. Ava is one of my new finds on Ancestry.”

“Oh…” I’d almost forgotten about my grandmother’s hobby. Over the last two years, she’d charted over six-thousand connections on Ancestry. Every week, she Zoomed with whatever new distant relatives were willing to talk to her. Some she even met in person. The woman had never sat still a day in her life. Hell, she’d only retired five years ago from the domestic violence shelter she’d founded, and she still went back to volunteer once a week.

“So how are we related to Ava?” I asked.

“My father’s great grandfather—so that would be my great-great grandfather—was first cousins with her great grandmother.”

“That branch is pretty far up the tree for my lips to come from her.”

“We have strong genes. Lord knows your stubbornness runs at least five generations back.”

I was pretty sure the woman on the phone had enough of that for five more lineage lines.

“What’ve you been up to lately, besides not calling to see if I’m dead?” she asked. “Still blowing through models instead of looking for the mother of my great grandchildren? I’m not getting any younger, you know. It would be nice if you could get started sooner, rather than later.”

“I’m busy running my business, Grams.”

“Bullshit. Life gave you some lemons. Stop sucking on ’em and make some lemonade. Then go find a girl with vodka.”

I smiled, but it was definitely time to change the subject. And speaking of lemons… “Listen, I wanted to ask you about Evie Vaughn.”

“Ah, Everly. I never could get used to calling her Evie.”

“Apparently she goes by Evie.”

“I figured she might be the real reason for your call. Everly told me the two of you met last week.”

Shit. “What did she say?”

“The usual. That you were just as debonair as I’d said and very polite and professional.”

Polite, huh? My grandmother did not pull any punches. She would have reamed into me if she knew I’d treated Evie the way I did. I was grateful Dr. Vaughn had kept the truth about our meeting private.

“She’s a looker, isn’t she?”

“Evie’s a beautiful woman, yes.”

“Nice rack, too,” she said.

That I definitely knew from the fitting room. But I wasn’t having a conversation about any woman’s tits with my grandmother. “I wouldn’t know. I was interviewing her, not ogling her.”

“Good. I love you. You’re my favorite grandson. But the last thing my Everly needs is a workaholic with commitment issues. Just give her a job, not a ride on the Merrick Express.”

“First of all, I’m your only grandson, so I better be your favorite. And second of all, I don’t have commitment issues.”

“Uh-huh. So are you giving my girl the job or what? She’s had a rough year with her breakup and that dumb video and all.”

“Dumb video?”

“Do you listen to anything I say? I told you about it. It was probably six months ago now. The week after my gallbladder surgery, to be exact. That’s why I couldn’t come up for the wedding.”

Now that she said it, I did remember she was supposed to come up for a wedding, but she’d had a gallbladder attack, and instead I’d gone down there for her surgery. “I remember the wedding… So they broke up? Evie called it off?”

“Not quite. The night before the big day, Everly found out her fiancé was shtupping her maid of honor. Rather than break it off, she married him, and then at the reception she showed a video of the two of them doing the horizontal mambo before walking out. Somehow the whole world saw the video because of the damn Internet. She annulled the marriage the week after.”

Holy shit. I vaguely remembered my grandmother telling me that story, and I even remembered seeing a partial clip of the video on the news. But I hadn’t put two and two together. “I didn’t connect the dots to realize it was the woman I interviewed.”

“Yep. Though I hope you don’t hold that against her. It took a lot of guts to do what she did.”

“Of course not,” I told her.

My grandmother and I talked for another ten minutes. After we hung up, I grabbed my laptop and typed into the Google search bar: Everly Vaughn wedding disaster.

I hadn’t paid close attention to the video when it was popping up all over the place earlier this year, but the very first video that showed up when I hit enter was definitely Evie. And the damn thing had a shit ton of plays. The still was her face as she spoke into a microphone wearing a wedding dress. I hit play and watched the entire thing once through with my mouth hanging open. I couldn’t believe this was the same woman I’d halfheartedly interviewed, the same woman from the fitting room. When the video ended, I hit the button to play it a second time. But when the bride came on the screen, I hit pause and took a good look at her.

Evie—Doctor Everly Vaughn—looked gorgeous in a fitted, strapless, white-lace gown. Her hair was styled the way women wore it back in the forties, with soft blond waves framing her pretty face. The sexy librarian glasses she’d worn both times I’d met her were gone, making her big, blue eyes look even bigger. Damn… She really was a knockout.

I rattled the ice in my almost-empty glass with my eyes glued to the screen. The first time I’d watched the video, I’d concentrated on the groom—trying to see if he’d had any clue what was about to go down. He definitely hadn’t, and it made watching the asshole get what was coming to him that much more enjoyable. But this time I focused on the bride. And as beautiful as she looked, I could now see the hurt in her eyes. It reminded me of this afternoon, when I’d been truthful about why she’d been invited to a second interview—except the hurt was magnified times a thousand.

I pressed play and watched as Evie took the microphone and asked for everyone’s attention. Zooming in, I noticed her hands shaking. A few months ago, when it hit the news, I’d chalked the video up to a crazy bride. But now, I saw things differently. Sucking back the last of the amber liquid in my glass, I gave her credit for standing up for herself. My grandmother was right. It took balls to do what she did, putting her emotions on display in front of a room full of people and calling out two people she loved. When the video got to the part where her fiancé and best friend started to go at it, I shut my laptop and stared out the window at Manhattan.

Evie Vaughn. The woman went through with marrying a guy just to blow up the wedding at the reception. It didn’t seem like she had a grip on managing her own stress too well. Not to mention, she also seemed like a real handful—bold, smart, the type of woman who called people out when she saw fit, whether that was her own wedding or in an interview with a prospective employer. She was sexy as shit, especially when she showed no fear. Yep, Dr. Vaughn was exactly the type of employee I didn’t need, even in a position I didn’t want. My company was filled with enough strong-willed people.

And yet I couldn’t seem to get her out of my head the last few days.

Which was dumb.

Just dumb.

I knew what I needed to do to nip this shit in the bud. So I called up the email HR had sent after they interviewed the final candidates and reread it before answering.

Mr. Crawford,

I met with the two candidates you selected to come in for a second interview. Both interviewed well, were able to share different stress-management techniques they might employ, and had clearly done their homework on the industry. However, Dr. Wexler has more one-on-one anxiety and stress counseling experience than Dr. Vaughn. Therefore, it is my recommendation that we extend an offer to Dr. Wexler.

Please let me know if you would like to discuss things further, or alternately, if you would prefer that we reopen the search to locate new potential candidates.

Sincerely,

Joan Davis

I sat for another twenty minutes, staring blankly at the screen. The list of reasons not to hire Evie Vaughn was endless. Even human resources recommended another candidate. Yet…

I was a man who often went with instinct over logic. It had mostly served me well. And for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that rejecting Evie Vaughn would be a mistake—and not just because my grandmother wouldn’t be happy. Though I couldn’t honestly say my leaning toward the less-qualified candidate was for entirely professional reasons. Something about the woman had gotten under my skin. Which is precisely the reason I should heed the advice of my HR director. Yet instead of writing back to HR, I clicked back to YouTube and hit play again. Twice.

Eventually, I shook my head. This is just stupid. Why the hell was I wasting time ruminating over who got hired for a position I didn’t even want in my company?

So I hit reply and started typing.

Joan,

Please extend an offer to Dr…