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Fail

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Chapter 8: Fail (Rowan's POV)

Everything was a mess. Everything. It had only been three days since Nate came up with his not-so-genius plan and so far, it was failing miserably. 

Actually, that's an understatement. 

This was a waste of everybody's time, especially Evie's and mine. She was coming into work and leaving immediately only to go from one restaurant to another, one café to another, meeting all these different women only to come back at the end of the day angry, frustrated, and purely annoyed. This plan was wasting all her days and without the manager here, the other employees were falling behind. 

It made me realize for a split second how much work Evie actually does at this company, that she's the one holding all the departments together. 

That doesn't mean no one else could do it. Everyone's replaceable. Even her. 

But starting today, Evie and I were partially in the same boat. She was out conducting marriage interviews and here I was conducting assistant interviews. 

God, I still can't believe Nate convinced me to be in a fake marriage. Fake, contract, it's the same thing. I'll have a wife on paper but she won't be anything remotely close to a wife. It won't be a relationship, just a contract, just another deal. It's business. 

I opened the first file from the piles that Evie made. I picked up the pastel purple sticky note, reading the words. 

'Can't survive you' pile. 

I crumpled it up and threw it in the trash before opening the file, finding the employee's details, calling their desk, and asking them to come in. There was a knock on my door minutes later and in came a girl. 

She seemed much younger than the employees here. "Mr. Rowan," she greeted with a polite smile. 

"Ms. June, please have a seat." 

She sat down tentatively and kept her hands in her lap. 

"All right, I'm going to ask a few questions, answer them to your best capability. Before we start, would you like to ask me anything?" 

She paused and then leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. My jaw ticked. "Being your assistant will include some personal tasks as well, right? Running an errand, things of that sort?" 

"It could at times," I nodded. 

"All right," she grinned, leaning back, at ease now, watching me.

I lifted a brow, feeling confused. "What exactly are you asking, Ms. June?" 

She blinked and then shook her head innocently. 

I closed her file, pushing it away. "Ms. June." 

"I just wanted to let you know that I don't mind that." 

"Don't mind what?" 

"Doing you any... personal favors," she shrugged. 

I rolled my eyes, releasing a breath. "Please leave." 

"But I can—" 

"Get out. Now." 

"Mr. Rowan—" 

"While I'm asking nicely, get out of my office." 

She sighed in disappointment and left. 

The second employee came in, still from the pile that apparently, couldn't survive me. It was Miles. I was aware of Miles, I knew Violet made him write her reports and he did it because he was too scared of her. "Hello, Miles," I mumbled, reading through his file a bit. I looked up in surprise. "You went to Harvard?" 

"Oh, uh, yeah," he chuckled awkwardly, nodding. "Business school, you know. It was more because my parents pushed me for it but I ended up getting in." 

"How was that for you?"

He paused. "Horrible. Three hours of sleep every night for four years and that was about it. Not worth it. But hey, I have that degree now." 

"Okay," I nodded. That didn't bother me. 

He was just too gullible. Anyone could tell him anything and he'd fall for it. 

"I hear you write Ms. Violet's reports when she demands you to." 

He shifted a bit. "Sort of. I've tried helping her with them but she just doesn't want to do it. I don't want to get the whole department in trouble because of her. As long as the work's done, right? We're a team, what does it matter?" 

"You're a department, that's right. But every man in this company is for himself, Mr. Miles." 

He's too much of a team player. 

"Yeah, I just don't think like that. God, I told Evie not to put my name in for this. I'm sorry. Can I just leave?" 

I nodded, humming. "That's okay." 

"Thank you, Mr. Rowan." 

And that's another one gone. 

I was about to call in the next person when my cell phone rang. I read Evie's name on the screen and then answered after a moment. "Ms. Spencer, why are you calling my cell phone during work hours?" 

"I found someone for you," she replied calmly. 

"You did?" 

"Mm-hmm. Her name's Veronica Walsh, her father owns Storm Softwares, and she doesn't seem to be a stupid bimbo like the others I've met so far." 

"I don't need to know what you think of her, only if she can handle me and vice versa. Where are you?" 

"Marble Plaza Coffee Bar." 

I paused. "And is she worth meeting myself?" 

"I think she might be. I haven't told her too much about you, only the deal. I figured the other bit, you should do yourself. If you're free, you can come down here, otherwise, I'll have to schedule another meeting and—" 

"I'm on my way." 

"Sure. I'll see you here." And then she hung up without waiting for a response or saying bye. 

I ran into Nate on my way out and told him where I was going. He seemed less happy than I expected. "What?" I asked. 

"Nothing. I just don't think you're lucky enough to get the right girl the first time. Go meet her though, tell me how it goes." 

Driving there, I walked into the café and spotted Evie immediately sitting at the back of the café. She noticed me and sent me a small wave. 

I looked around the room, trying to see if I could spot Veronica. I had met her once before, I think. Evie waved frantically, stealing my attention again. 

She pointed to a blonde sitting by the window, mouthing, "Go! Go!" I shot her a stern look and she sighed, leaning back into her chair. 

I took the seat in front of Veronica, greeting her. 

"Hi," she chuckled, "it's nice to meet you." 

I nodded. "We've met before." 

She shook her head. "We haven't." 

I fell into thought. I could have sworn I'd seen her before this day. 

She blinked in confusion as well, both of us trying to recollect our memories. 

Oh... I remember now. 

"We have," I said more surely now. "At The Fortress Club, remember?" 

When she hooked up with some guy in the bathroom, stumbled out, and spilled her drink all over me. 

Her jaw fell slack. "Oh, shit," she sighed, pinching her nose bridge and looking out the window. 

It was years ago, to be fair. I could let it go, I suppose. "We can ignore that," I told her. 

"God, thank you and I'm so sorry about that night," she laughed. "Wow, that was years ago, huh?" 

I nodded. It was when I first got back from Russia. 

"So, how old are you?" she asked. 

"Twenty-six," I answered, "do you mind if I ask?" 

"Twenty-eight," she answered and I nodded in understanding. It was fine, not a problem. It wasn't a big deal. "And you're the CEO? Of Volkov Enterprises and you need a wife, right? To keep that seat?" 

"Yes, that sums it up." I glanced at Evie who was sitting with her head down on the table. 

"I get it. But I have a concern," she said.

"Go ahead." 

"I don't get anything out of this. There's nothing I need right now, so I don't have a reason to say yes. There's nothing I don't already have that you could offer me, you know?" She shrugged casually. "What are you willing to give me? Money?" 

"There's a limit to everything, how much do you want?" 

"None. I have it. A house?" 

I glanced over at Evie again. 

This girl is her choice? 

I rolled my tongue along the inside of my cheek before looking at Veronica. "If you have everything you need, you wouldn't be here right now. You would have left after meeting my assistant." 

"Well, your assistant's nice. She kept me entertained." 

"Entertained?" I lifted a brow, feeling myself grow rigid. 

"She seemed a little um, desperate for my help. It was funny," she chuckled. 

I watched her and no matter what, I could only come to one conclusion. This woman was fucking ridiculous. It didn't matter that she was tall, pretty, rich, whatever. She was a bitch from the inside out. "What's funny is that you don't have anything to do with your life, Veronica." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Tell me, what is it that you do? Other than live off of your father's money, that is, by spending half of it and using the other half to cover up your scandals in our social circle. You don't have everything, you have nothing." 

She leaned back, huffing. "It pisses you off that much to hear someone say anything about your assistant?" 

"It does, actually. Because you're not just disrespecting her, you're disrespecting me. This situation may be a joke to you because you're not in it, but I am. And my assistant, who you would know isn't my assistant if you actually listened to her, is working her ass off and wasting her time over a ridiculous, laughable, and ludicrous girl like you, just because I asked her to. 

"She isn't getting anything out of this. No raise in her salary, not a day off. You're expecting money and a house just because you signed a piece of paper for me? Please, Veronica," I shook my head at her. "You can't fool me to make money like you do your father. Ask your Daddy for a new house, since I have nothing to offer you anyway. You can leave." 

She stared at me in disbelief for a long minute before scoffing and grabbing her purse, standing up. "Just so you know, no sane woman will agree to this, just how I didn't."

"Maybe I like my women insane," I looked up at her as she marched around the table and left. Rolling my eyes, I released an angry breath. 

What a fucking bitch. 

My eyes landed on Evie as she sat upright, surprised to see the seat before me empty. I called her over, motioning with two fingers for her to get her ass over here. 

She stood up slowly and walked over, sitting in front of me. "What happened?" 

"She was your choice? Really? Did you even talk to her? Did we meet the same woman?" 

She stared at me, confused. "I thought she was nice. She seemed to understand the situation and laugh it off." 

"She wasn't laughing at the situation, Evie. She was laughing—" I cut myself short. 

"She was laughing at what?" she questioned. 

"At me," I answered. "At how stupid I must be to land myself in this mess." 

She held my gaze. 

"That interview was a huge fail on your part," I told her, changing the subject. "Seriously, what were you thinking? Do you really think she's the kind of woman I'd marry? Even if it's just on paper?" 

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But I've been doing this for three days, I'm exhausted. I don't know what you want in a woman. I'm trying," she sighed. 

"I know you're trying but it's not enough." 

She clenched her jaw, staring out the window instead. 

"Have you eaten lunch?" 

"No, she laughed sardonically. "Ms. Veronica Walsh was on a diet and right now, intermittently fasting," she snapped at me right before her stomach grumbled. 

I bit down a tiny chuckle and waved a waiter over. "Two menus, please."  

Evie stared at me silently. "Why are you having lunch with me?" 

"So I don't have to go back and tell Nate about the disaster you just created." 

"The disaster I—" 

"Read the menu."

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Chapter 8

protective men, especially the ones who protect you behind your back >>>

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