Position with Beneftis

By Cristina Grenier

Grace Summers is pretty thrilled with the way her life is going at the moment. She's fresh out of college with a major in Biology, has managed to land a lucrative job as the personal assistant to one of the biggest up and coming lawyers in the city, and on top of that, she's sleeping with a rich, attractive man. It's a life that plenty of other women would kill for. 

The only problem? The man and her boss happen to be the same person, and it's definitely against the rules for them to be having their affair. 
What's worse is that she seems to be falling for him, the more she gets to know him, against her better judgment and the advice of her friends. Now she has to struggle to keep her work life and private life separate, all the while trying to keep her feelings under wraps so she won't weird him out, or worse, get fired. All she has to do is keep it together until she goes off to grad school, and that's not so hard, right? 

If only. When she starts feeling sick and noticing changes in her body, she attributes it to stress from work and keeping everything in, but there just might be a whole new bundle of complications on the way. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monster Media LLC
• Release date: Mar 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386860600

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Fine Art of Blending In

Grace Summers might not have been born and raised around money, but she was quickly learning that ‘fake it until you make it’ was a very real, very beneficial thing to know how to do. Especially in a business where lying seemed to make all the difference sometimes. She was fresh out of college, and honestly driving up to the massive office building that the law offices of Greene, Wilder, and Smith called home was terrifying in some ways, even though she’d been working here for over four months already.

Every inch of the building screamed money, from the imposing figure it cut against the skyline to the gleaming windows that shone in the sunlight on every floor. The gilded revolving door at the front intimidated her, and she just knew that it would only be a matter of time before she made a fool of herself in it with someone important looking on and judging her, but for the time being she wasn’t going to worry about that.

Faking it was all about the look, about the way you held yourself. After ages of practice, she had that down.

Her outfit was simple: a dark gray pencil skirt that hugged her hips and made her legs look much more shapely than they really were, a turquoise blouse that looked more expensive than it really was, tucked into her skirt and bringing out the color in her dark skin, sheer pantyhose, and black pumps with heels just high enough to make her seem like she wasn’t 5’2’’ and tiny.

Her hair was straight and fell to her shoulders, and her glasses were plain, black frames that she thought made her look more intelligent than she really was.

With her head held high, work bag slung over one shoulder, and purpose in her stride, she knew she looked every inch like someone who belonged there, and she smiled at the security guard as she made her way from the parking lot to the door, flashing her ID at him.

Morning, Ms. Summers, he said, waving her through towards the revolving door.

Morning, Peter, she replied. It was always nice to be on good terms with security. That’s what her father had taught her, and it served her well here.

She made it through the door without incident once again and let out a brief sigh of relief as she made her way towards the elevator, heels clacking on the polished floor of the building’s lobby.

Good morning, Ms. Summers, called Sheryl, the building’s receptionist. Each individual office had its own assistant who answered phones and ran errands, but Sheryl was in charge of the lobby, the switchboard, and getting visitors to where they needed to go. She was in her thirties, tall and pretty with long red hair that she always had pulled over one shoulder. Her sharp blue eyes took in everyone and everything, and while she was kind, she had also been known to eject people from the building before security could even get to them.

Morning, Sheryl. How are you?

Grace always made a point of being polite to her because you never knew when you were going to need someone formidable on your side. Plus, she had been one of the first people Grace had met when she came to work here.

Can’t complain. Phone’s ringing off the hook for some reason today. It’s Friday, don’t these people know that?

Grace laughed at that. Better than them saving it up and bombarding you on Monday, though, right?

Sheryl made a face and nodded. Good point. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the phone rang and she sighed, picking it up and holding a bit before putting on her professional smile. Greene, Wilder, and Smith. This is Sheryl, how may I assist you? She waved as Grace continued on her way to the elevators.

There were nine floors in this building, and they all belonged to the same people. Most of the top floors were taken up by offices, and there was one floor that was all books and files and copy machines. Another was just conference rooms where the lawyers spoke with their clients and other lawyers and held staff meetings and planning sessions.

She’d had a tour of the whole building when she went through orientation, but she rarely had reason to go to any of the other floors.

Her boss, Nicolas Greene, attorney at law, had his offices on the fifth floor, so Grace hit the button and rode the elevator up, humming along under her breath to the music that played in the small space.

The office was an inviting space if you belonged there, but completely intimidating if you didn’t. Even after four months, she was still having trouble getting it through her head that she belonged there, even when she stepped off the elevator and people greeted her by name.

But she held her head high and kept moving, smiling and returning the greetings, using people’s names and asking after their families.

No matter how fancy she looked, she was a small town girl born and raised. Manners and friendliness had been drummed into her head, and even here in the big city, she found that the old you catch more flies with honey adage held true.

It was one of the reasons why she was doing so well here, really. Because even after four years of college and moving away from home, she still remembered where she came from and put that to good use.

The town she’d been born and raised in was barely a blip on most maps. Boasting a population of less than a thousand, it was one of those places where you always knew your neighbors and helped them out when they needed it. It was impossible to walk to the corner store without seeing at least three people who’d known her since she was a baby and wanted to stop to chat, which was where her punctuality had come from more than likely, the need to leave early enough that she’d have time to talk to people and still make it to wherever she was trying to get to.

Her mother was a teacher at the elementary school, and up until she’d left for college, everyone had known her as Mrs. Summers’ girl, Gracie. It had followed every sentence about her, and while no one here was likely to even know what that meant, it had been her identity for most of her life.

College had been a big change for her, and being on a campus where there were more people than in her whole town had been more than overwhelming for the first year and a half. Her small town roots had been hard to hide, even though she didn’t really try that hard, knowing it would be useless.

She’d been worried that it would be something of a problem when she’d arrived and seen how fast  paced everything was. It was clear that these people were used to moving quickly and getting things done, snapping orders until they were followed and expecting everything to be done to the letter. It didn’t help that she was one of only two black people in the entire building, but Grace was used to that.

That had been her entire college experience just about, and she’d started faking it right then and there, managing to blend some of her natural personality in and charming most of the people she worked with easily.

Boss wants to see you as soon as you get a minute, someone said as they rushed by, arms full of files.

Grace nodded and went to her desk. She was lucky enough to be away from the main part of the office, tucked in a little cubicle right outside of the boss’ office. All she had room for was a desk, her chair, and a little filing cabinet where the most pertinent and needed files were kept. On her desk was a phone, a computer, pictures of her family, and a cup full of pencils, and even though the space was small, she kept it neat and orderly. Just the way she liked it.

Her routine was the same every morning. She dropped off her bag at the desk and then dodged the people hurrying by until she made it to the small kitchen tucked all the way at the end of the hall.

There she made coffee for her and for her boss and wolfed down a bagel with honey and butter while it brewed. Once it was done, she poured it into two travel mugs and made her way back, pausing to smooth down her skirt and blouse before knocking on the door to Mr. Greene’s office. She’d learned pretty quickly that lawyers needed coffee to thrive, so she kept the pot full, even though that wasn’t technically a part of her job description.

But then, she’d been going above and beyond the call of her job for the last month or so in other ways too. Making coffee wasn’t even hard.

It was the same every morning, and this time she heard a crash from within and frowned.

That had better be Grace, he called.

It definitely is, sir, Grace called back.

Come in, then.

She frowned and balanced the cups against her body so she had a hand free to open the door, pushing it in and walking into the office to see Mr. Greene standing there in the middle of the lavish office with his hands on his hips, surveying the mess on his floor.

It looked like he’d dumped out one of his desk drawers onto the carpet, and Grace frowned harder as she closed the door behind her.

Like the rest of the building, the office screamed money. Rich, dark brown carpet that was plush and soft underfoot and furniture in dark woods that were clearly expensive. The desk took up most of the space in the middle of the floor, with a chair set up behind it, all leather and ergonomic.

Floor to ceiling windows made up the back wall behind the desk, giving a good view of the parking lot and the park across the street. At the moment, the blinds were open, giving Grace a good view of the people hurrying along into the building and down the street.

Are you having some kind of crisis? she asked as she drew her attention back to her boss, arching an eyebrow and setting down the mugs on the small bookshelf near the door.

I honestly don’t even know anymore, he replied with a sigh. I was looking for my stress ball and then this happened. It’s too early for these messes.

I should say so. Drawer just jumped out of your hand, Mr. Greene? Grace retorted, just a hint of teasing in her tone.

He looked up and favored her with a grin, and Grace had to keep herself from swooning right then and there.

Aside from being rich, powerful, and smart. Nicolas Greene was also one of the most attractive men Grace had ever seen. He was tall and muscular, built, but without looking like he bench pressed cars for a living. His shoulders were broad, filling out his suit nicely and making his waist seem more tapered than it probably was. He had long legs and elegant hands, hazel eyes that Grace knew had little bits of gold in them in the right light, and auburn hair that he kept long enough to pull into a little ponytail at the nape of his neck sometimes.

When he spoke, it was with a slow, Southern drawl that was deep and dark like molasses and just as sweet. Unless, of course, he was giving someone the sharp edge of his tongue. Then he was all razor focus and hard toned, and Grace had to admit that it was pretty hot, too.

Most of the women in the building, and a few of the men, too, were always