The moment she stepped into the office behind Amy, Colton forgot all about his need to get home and shed Carter. He wasn't even sure there was the need to rush this session as he'd originally wanted. And it had nothing to do with the state in which Avery Honey walked into his office, like a bloody wet dream incarnate.

It was her damn eyes.

As she entered through that frosty door, a nervous energy flickered in her smile, but a strange cold glint flashed in her eyes. Eyes so dark they had a gravity of their own, and when she glanced at his face before eyeing his desk, he felt a great desire to have them pin him again.

What is your secret? He found himself wondering as Amy led her to one of the two seats opposite his desk. It had him wishing he wasn't sitting behind the desk. The large desk created a crevasse of distance and hierarchy, something he'd worked tirelessly to move away from over the years. And suddenly, the desire to be sitting beside her, sitting anywhere other than the damn CEO's office, tingled up and down his spine.

"Mr Thebes, this is Avery Honey, the last interviewee for today." Amy's voice was snappy. "He is present for the interview, but I'll be—"

"Assisting me," Colton suddenly cut in, extending his hand towards Avery over the table. He couldn't tell what it was about her that suddenly made him sit up and pay attention while he'd practically fallen asleep at the others. Perhaps that brief slashing of coldness in her eyes had him curious. Or perhaps why a woman in designer heels and clothing even sought a menial job as a CEO's assistant. Surely not for the glamour of it.

"I thought you wanted me to—?" Amy threw him a look that boarded on rolling her eyes.

"Please sit, Avery, and start by telling us why you would be the best candidate for the job?" Colton cleared his throat to interrupt Amy and pointed Avery to take a seat.

"Well, I." He watched her shift in her chair, as any nervous interviewee would, but her voice was sure and confident. Timidity, it seemed, was only limited to her body. A fact that fascinated him further.

What is it you want?

"I recently graduated from the academy—" Avery's eyes pinned his again.

"In Meteorology?" He made a show of referring to her resume, though there was no need for that. He remembered perfectly well she had MA in Meteorology, the first person he'd ever met with such a degree, yet she sought an administrative job. Odd. Very odd.

She nodded, and he urged her on. "Why that field?"

The way she blinked at him, innocently, had him smiling before she even said, "Because I loved looking at the stars as a kid."

"Isn't that astronomy?"

"I wish someone had told little Avery that." She smiled, a warm kind of smile that shifts the temperature in the room by a degree.

Colton fanned his shirt front under the desk in response.

"That, and when it came time to choose my major, I kind of fell into it." Her smile turned up its wattage. But that lick of deception kissed her eyes again.

Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe he only thought this because she was by far the most interesting interviewee today. Not laced up and buttoned, like a bloody robot. Or maybe he just wanted to see what else those eyes could do?

He shook his head to chase away that notion—that she could unzip him with a look—and pursed his lips as if he was in deep thought of the professional kind. Avery Honey felt dangerous already and she'd been in the office less than ten minutes. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with his big secret and everything to do with his carefully walled-up heart. Because suddenly and out of nowhere, he was picturing her dismantling the wall he'd built around his heart as an artist dismantles meaning in their art.

"Fell into it?" He asked, trying not to stare at her nude lips. All the female candidates so far had been dolled up to the nine: lipstick, full face of makeup, lash extensions, and an expensive salon blowout. Yet, Avery Honey sat before him in barely-there makeup, her hair was up in an I-tossed-it-up-just-now-casually messy bun, and her lips were bare, save for a sheen of chapstick. And it was proving hard to suddenly stay as neutral as Amy for this interview.

He had the urge to slam his hand on top of the desk and declare, "Welcome to Thebes & Thebes, Miss Honey. I'm glad we'll be working together from now"—because he wasn't here to work. No. He was here to buy Pops enough time to have his men locate Carter and drag him back to the front.

"You'll probably think I'm crazy." Avery chuckled softly, snapping his attention back to those soft, plump lips. "My best friend, Neil, was doing it so I thought why not? That way he wouldn't have to do it alone."

Neil? A stab of discomfort wriggled in his chest. She had a guy best friend? Was that code for 'boyfriend'?

"And this job?" Amy cut in then, while Colton was too busy trying to swat the sudden sense of envy. Avery had a best friend she was willing to do something incredibly selfless for. What he wouldn't given to have someone like that in his life, someone who could give just as easily as take—unlike most women who found him attractive. His money.

"What makes you think you have the necessary skills to handle a job like this? I mean, you will be virtually looking after Mr Thebes' day-to-day life. It's not exactly a star-spangled job." Amy was glaring at Avery from the other chair.

Colton watched as she turned to Amy and held that scrutinising look as if it was nothing. He could imagine her saying, 'I eat people like you for breakfast.'

"I don't think I'm the best for this job, no," Avery said to his surprise.

No? Colton found himself leaning forward on the desk. Then why are you here, Miss Honey?

"No?" A smirk touched Amy's lips and Colton noted her scribbling on the notepad resting on her knee, no doubt striking Avery Honey as a potential recall.

"I certainly don't have the credentials you're seeking, but, I do this daily in my own life," Avery was saying, waving her immaculately manicured hand around. The few gold bracelets at her thin wrist jostled with the movement.  "However"—she turned to him. "I am a willing learner, and I savour thriving at a challenging job. With my skills in navigating research and notable peers, I'm fairly sure I can handle your daily schedules as meticulously as I would that. I am excellent at details and problem-solving."

He saw her sit up straighter then, holding her chest high and her head higher. "I'm not a fool. Mr Thebes. But I take pride in being trustworthy and hardworking. And I certainly know how to keep things confidential, and on a schedule, which I believe you will appreciate, in light of all the recent media brushes. While I work under you, rest assured nothing you say and do in my presence will leave that safe space, unless, of course, you require it to. For optics, of course."

"Of course." Colton groaned inwardly. Media. It would be the death of him. But Avery wasn't wrong. He needed someone to be meticulous in how they handled sensitive information or nosy media.

"The job is more than scheduling." Amy muttered under her breath some more, things that sounded very much like, 'He should just ask his dad to borrow me instead of all this'.

"How would you handle—" Amy fired the next question they'd discussed, but again, Colton cut in.

"How would you handle, say I forget to turn up to an important meeting and the client or the board member is angered?"

Avery smiled again. "I'd of course apologise, and then assure them that you're extremely embarrassed to be running late but a previous meeting went longer than expected and you never leave a client aggrieved should they feel dissatisfied with the service. Make them feel like if they were that client, you'd give them your 110% as well."

"Brilliant." Colton laughed. "That is by far the best answer—"

"Ahem ahem." Amy cleared her throat pointedly and threw him a glare to be sure. "What would you say your strengths and weaknesses are...?"

And so, Amy went on, asking the few questions they'd preselected while Colton sat there trying not to interrupt or derail the conversation towards something a bit more intriguing.

Yet, by the time the interview drew to a close and a clap of thunder lit the building for a hit second before the entirety of a city block was plunged into darkness, Colton thought he'd found the woman he was looking for. As an interim assistant. Someone he could get comfortable with.

"Oh, that's not good," Amy mumbled under her breath, and Colton heard her chair scrape back. "Guess we should wrap this up for the day. Miss Honey"—another chair scraped back as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. "Thank you for coming. We'll be in contact if you're short—"

"Selected." Colton stood abruptly. "I'll personally give you a call."

"You will?"

"Yes, Ms Vance. I will. After all, she will be assisting me." Colton grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, barely able to see anything in the dark. "Think of it like a welcome aboard call."

"That—that would be lovely." Avery sounded further than he thought. Perhaps she's started walking back out already? "I hope to hear from you then. Thank you for seeing me, despite the mishaps."

The more he listened to her voice in the dark, the more he desired to hear her in other places. And this was so not like him, to jump so far ahead at first sight. Colton often laughed at such a notion but the lustrous rich tones of Avery's voice seemed more pronounced in the dark and he wished to hear more.

"Are you heading home now, Miss Honey?" He walked towards her, hoping the least they could do was head on down together until she went her way and he met his driver out the front.

"See you tomorrow, Ms Vance. Thank you for your help today." He lit the torch on his phone and pointed the light at the door, noting Avery already standing halfway to it while Amy seemed to be in two minds about gathering the files. "Leave them. We can collect them all tomorrow when we can see. Shall we?"

"Uh. My bag is still downstairs." Amy uneasily eyed him and Avery.

"Then we will walk you down one floor. I'm sure the lights will come back on soon. Or at least the generator will kick in for the lift."

With that, Colton followed the two women out of his office, and to the stairwell, but just as they were about to walk in through the door, emergency lights flickered to life and the whirl of elevator coming back to life caught their ears.

"Ah, it's working," he couldn't help the hint of joy snaking into his voice. For a dreadful minute he'd thought it quite possible that not only would he have to walk Amy down one floor to pick up her bags, but at this hour, well past 5:30 PM, he wouldn't feel right to leave her in an empty office.  Which meant, he'd very much have to wait for her and walk both the women down. Chivalry may have died elsewhere where but not with him. And not today. No matter how much he'd craved to walk Avery Honey down to the lobby by himself.

So naturally, when the lift whirred to life, he brightly stepped back into the corridor, happily pressed floor thirty-four for Amy, bid her adieu, and prayed under his breath that no one would stop the elevator until they reached the lobby.

He didn't yet know what he wanted to talk to her about, but all he knew was he wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet. Funny, that. Forty-five minutes earlier, he'd craved to be done with the day and head home.

Thank you for reading BADBOY CARTER. If you enjoyed the chapter, consider leaving a comment, clicking the star, and/or follow me!