Free The Mogul by Michelle Marquis Page A

the face of Mona’s quizzical stare. “What?”
    “Is everything okay?” Mona asked in a tone that made Candace want to slap her face off.
    “Sure, everything’s peachy. I just thought it was a shame to see all that food go to waste.”
    Mona pursed her lips and reached into the pile of cash. She removed Candace’s ten dollars and replaced it with one of her own. “Here,” she said, holding the bill out. “Take this. You need it more than I do.”
    Candace was both insulted and relieved. She wanted to tell Mona she didn’t need charity, but instead she took back her ten dollars. “Thanks, Mona.”
    Mona grinned. “Sure. When you get your new job, you can treat me. Deal?”
    “Deal.”
    The waiter returned with the fruit all boxed up. He handed it to Candace with a warm grin. “I packed some bread in there too. You know, just in case the fruit wasn’t enough.”
    Candace smiled and thanked him. On the way out of the restaurant, she said a little prayer hoping this dry spell wouldn’t last much longer. She didn’t know how much more humble pie and leftover fruit plates she could eat.

Chapter Two
     
    It had been two days since she’d had lunch with Mona and still no word from Markus Grant. Candace wasn’t disappointed in Mona since her friend had made the call and promptly called her back to tell her he’d sounded noncommittal. Even though Mona had warned her, Candace was mad at herself for getting her hopes up. Of course a man like Markus Grant had a million applicants for the job of assistant. What made her think he might actually consider her? He’d never even met her, for heaven’s sake.
    Candace sat in the living room of her apartment and stared at the computer screen. It was disheartening to see how few jobs were listed. She applied for a few long shots and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. She picked up her cell phone and shook it. “Ring, damn you!”
    The phone rang.
    At first, Candace was so startled she just stared at it. The calling number showed private on her cell phone screen. It’s probably a bill collector. On the third ring, she answered it.
    “Hello?”
    “Candace Wilson?” It was a man’s deep   voice speaking so softly he was almost whispering in the phone.
    “This is she.”
    There was a moment of silence on the line. “I’m Markus Grant.”
    “Oh . . . Yes, hello there.” She cringed at how stupid she must sound.
    “Mona called me about you. She said you were smart and learned fast. I understand you were a paralegal.”
    “Yes, that’s right. Did you need someone with a legal background?”
    “No, not really.”
    Her stomach dropped, and a mild queasiness settled there. “Oh.”
    “I like smart people. Are you as smart as Mona says?”
    What a really weird question. If she didn’t need this job so badly, she would have hung up. Strangeness in a boss didn’t bode well for the future. Candace knew all about strange bosses. Her last one had been a doozy. “I like to think so, yes.”
    “You got a boyfriend?”
    Candace pulled the phone from her ear for a moment to stare at it. “Excuse me, but what does that have to do with being your personal assistant?”
    Another moment of silence and she was sure he was about to hang up. “I’ll rephrase the question. Is there any reason why you might have to keep regular working hours? How is your availability?”
    “I can work anytime, if that’s what you mean.”
    “Good. Here’s my number. Text me your address. I’ll send a car to pick you up in twenty minutes. Be ready.”
    Candace was about to object—she couldn’t be ready for an interview that fast—when he hung up. She sat there debating whether or not to call him back to ask for more time. Then she reconsidered. This was probably a test of some sort. She texted him her address and figured she’d better just do her best to be ready. She’d already wasted three minutes sitting here.
    Candace leapt into action. She went into the bathroom and washed herself