"Ms. Thomas, Mr. Nesmith will see you now."
"Thank you." Laura stood smoothing out her skirt and following the secretary through the double doors and into Mike's office.
He stood behind his desk; the phone perched on his shoulder. He wore a faded pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. "Maddie, yes, I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for the world…No, I'm just swamped right now. Give my best to Mick and the kids. Miss you too. Bye." He hung up the phone and looked across the desk at Laura. "I'm sorry about that. Family business."
"I understand Mr. Nesmith." Laura smiled shyly.
"Please call me anything but that. Makes me feel old." He reached out his hand to her. "Its nice to meet you, Ms. Thomas." She was tall, 5'9", with auburn hair, which flowed midway down her back.
"Laura, please." She took his hand and wasn't at all surprised at his strong grip.
"Please sit down." He picked up a folder and opened it. "You have quite an impressive resume. History and English major with a minor in music. What do you play?"
"The saxophone." She answered. "I don't get the chance to play as often as I'd like though."
"No one ever does." He smiled. "It seems like forever since I picked up my guitar."
"Black Beauty?"
"Yeah." He looked at her surprised and then cleared his throat. "Anyway, let me tell you about the job. You would be my personal assistant. I need someone to handle all of my personal affairs and some business. From making sure I get to where I need to be on time to making sure my socks match." He laughed. "It means long hours and probably a lot of headaches. But it also means good money, some travel and excellent benefits. I take care of my employees, Laura, and I'd like you to be one of them."
"Oh, Mr. Nesmith, thank you." She jumped up out of the chair.
"You're welcome, darlin'." He laughed. "And please, most people call me Nez. We're very informal around here. There's no dress code. The one thing I must insist on is privacy and confidentiality."
"Thank you again…Michael." She smiled. "I promise to do my best."
"Great." He came around the desk and led her to the door, his hand on the small of her back. "Let me show you your office."
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Within three weeks, Laura had Mike more organized that he had ever been in his life. She seemed to know what he was going to ask 10 minutes before he asked it. She took care of everything from his dry-cleaning to flight arrangements, from personal appearances to making sure he had coffee in his office. It took an enormous weight off his shoulders to know there was someone he could depend on for the day-to-day details of his life.
She walked across the outer office from her own. She could hear him barking into the phone before she reached his door. It was open, so she knocked lightly and waited. "No, now you listen to me." He stated firmly into the receiver. "You messed this up, so you fix it." With that, he slammed the phone down. He waved her in. "What is it?" He asked flopping back down in his chair and rubbing his temples.
"Just a couple of things." She crossed the room to his desk. "I've got your itinerary and tickets for New York and AM Houston called this morning. They want an interview."
"I don't have time for this now, Laura. Just put them off until next week when I get back." He growled. "As for New York, I hope you didn't put me up at the Hilton. I hate that place."
"I know, you've told me that a thousand times already." She growled right back, setting the folder from the airline down on his desk. "I'll call the radio station back. By the way, you have a meeting with the advertising firm in 20 minutes."
"Shit! Why didn't you remind me?" He stood, grabbing his sports jacket off the back of his chair.
"I did." She stated. "Twice yesterday, twice this morning and its written right here." She pointed to his desk calendar.
He said nothing, only stomped out of the room.
Laura was cleaning up his next late that afternoon when she noticed he had forgotten the plane tickets. "The man would forget his head if it wasn't attached." She said to herself tapping them on her hand. She went back to her office, grabbed her purse and jacket and headed for the Nesmith ranch.
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She didn't know what to expect as she drove up the long winding driveway to the main house, but she never expected to be floored. The house was absolutely huge and overpowering. She got out of the car, walked up the steps and hesitated momentarily before pressing the doorbell. It surprised and impressed her even more when Mike, himself, answered it. "Laura, hi." He was also surprised.
"Hi, you forgot these." She held out the tickets.
"Oh, hell, would have made it really hard to get on the plane tomorrow morning." He laughed. "Come on in."
She walked through the doors and into the entrance hall. It was smaller than she would have imagined considering the size of the house. "Your house is beautiful."
"Thanks." He led her into the kitchen. It was massive but felt cozy. He turned to her leaning against the counter. "I'm sorry about this afternoon. I didn't mean to snap at you."
"I know you weren't mad at me, so forget it." She smiled.
"Can I get you anything?" He asked.
"No, thanks." She spied a guitar in the next room. "Were you playing?"
"Fiddling around is a better description." He chuckled. "Trying to clear my head."
"I'm sure you get asked this every time you and a guitar are in the same room, but would you playing something for me?" She asked shyly.
"Sure." He smiled, obviously flattered. He walked over and picked up the guitar, swinging the strap on his shoulder and propping his foot up on a chair.
His fingers worked the strings with great ease causing the music to almost float into the air. When added with his sweet, gentle voice, she knew she had never heard anything so moving and intense before in her life. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
He watched her watching him, seeing the expressions of joy pass over her face. He wondered why he had never noticed her eyes before. They were gray with specks of light shining in them. He wanted to know what they would look like in the heat of passion.
Before he could stop himself, he set down the guitar and went to her. His fingers diving into her hair and his mouth crushing down on hers. A small gasp escaped her followed by a sultry moan. His heart pounded into his ears as he drew her closer, her arms entwining around his neck. When he pulled back and looked down at her, he saw that her eyes had darkened, their color now a haunting smoke. With their eyes locked on each other, he took one step back.
"You should go." He let go of her as if he had been burned, turning his back to her, his fists clutched at his sides.
"Have a good flight." Her voice was cold and composed, and she left. No one would have known that on the inside she was a combination of madder than hell and mad in love.
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