Chapter Three

"Greenbacks"

She looked at me with that familiar desire
Her eyes lit up like they were on fire
She said, "My name's Flo, and you're on the right track
But look here, daddy, I wear furs on my back
So if you want to have fun in this man's land
Let Lincoln and Jackson start shaking hands

On a greenback, greenback dollar bill
Just a little piece of paper, coated with chlorophyll

Alejandra was always in the office at eight o'clock on the dot. The fact that she beat her boss into the office did not go unnoticed, and without comment. It was not in her nature to hold her tongue around him. She felt it part of her job, as his personal assistant, to keep him in line with her tongue, so if caustic remarks were required, Alex did not hold back.

"In three years on board here Mason, I have never known you to be late. You had the flu and dutifully stayed home after Yvonne and I convinced you to remain in bed last December, but 8:30? You are lucky there was no mangers' meeting this morning." She had walked into his office with her phone in-hand, and with a determined demeanor. "There is nothing pressing this morning, though you are slated to have lunch with Bob and that new VP who is supposed to start on Monday: Charles Bingley. I thought Chantilly would be nice."

"I think that is over-the-top, Alex," Fitzwilliam said, looking at her. For the first time since he hired her, he considered his assistant through a different lens. Chantilly was a pricey restaurant. One better suited for wooing investors, and not one for a quick luncheon with a new VP who was already on board with the company. Besides which, they needed to return to work afterward and there was always wine at Chantilly luncheons. Fitz wondered why Alex had suggested it, wondered if she wanted to invite herself along. She often did come, 'to take notes.' But this should be a simple, informal, and welcoming luncheon. He and Bob knew Charles quite well, anyway.

"Something simpler. We will need to get back to work. As you pointed out, I was late getting in. I will need to make up the time," he looked at her.

She was nonplussed. "A steakhouse it is. Boys!" she cried, and turned to go.

Alex Carlyle was efficient, always on top of things, in the know about all company matters, and in a pinch, had been a good 'plus one,' when Mason needed a date for some business function. Her mother was German (having moved to the United States for a job where she met Mr. Carlyle) and had dubbed her Alejandra when there was a fad to name German children with Spanish names. Alex always felt she, at least, got the better deal than her sister Juanita. Alex took pains to explain her origins least she be mistaken for being Hispanic. Her prettiness was tailored, and she worked hard at it. She was dedicated to Pemberley Energy, and especially dedicated to her boss, Mason Darcy.

She did not mind her job, but she would really rather not have to work. In three years with the company, she had been exposed to a world she did not realize existed outside of books, but was real. People really did own mansions, drive pricey cars, owned second homes and vacation homes—or had apartments in Paris for whimsical trips should the mood strike. Not that her boss, Mason, was ever an extravagant man. But, Alex had no intention of continuing to live a reasonable life if she could land a rich husband.

Mason Darcy had not dated anyone in the three years that she had been with Pemberley Energy. In Silicon Valley there were not many chief executive officers (CEOs) to choose from who were both single and attractive. A CEO, she reckoned, was better than a chief financial officer (CFOs were often all about crunching numbers—and possibly pinching them) as such a husband might be a little too interested in cost-savings. Mason's cousin Bob was Pemberley's CFO.

In her two years as Mason's PA, she had had her hair lightened, improved her wardrobe when she figured out where the sales women shopped, capped her teeth, and spent more time at the gym. After her second year of employment, he had begun to ask her on dates whenever there was some business event where her boss considered it would look better to have a woman on his arm. If you were going to make a name for yourself, attend charity events, or business dinners, and promote your company at such an venue, you needed a beautiful woman on your arm. Alex had no illusions that it was a true, romantic date. Not like Bob Richardson and the half dozen women he seemed to date at once. Bob Richardson was all hands whenever he brought a date to a combination business/society event and often left early with more plans for afterward.

Alex knew Mason was married to his job, and she was happy to let him continue to be so, even after he married her. It could be a marriage on paper if he wished. Sometimes such things were arranged, open marriages. It was difficult to be the owner and manager of a business and be single; he must know that. Businessmen should be married; people—investors, customers and employees—all trusted a married boss far more than a single one. There was also a social aspect to being a businessman, all those night and weekend events where having a wife to smile, and make small talk, and pick up gossip or news tidbits, or to put in a good word, would help out. Alejandra was more than willing to trade in her last name to be such a helpmate if she could leave over earning her own paycheck.

She had her own bedroom suite in his house; Alex considered that an achievement. There was a bedroom across from his home office, and she had taken it over for her own. She thought of it as her away-office, but there was still a bed there. It had an en-suite bath and walk-in closet which held a few evening dresses so, in a pinch, she was ready for any social event. She knew the access code to the gate at the driveway, and the code for the garage. She was miffed that there was no bay for her own car as the garage only parked three. She could not understand Mason only having a three-car garage if he lived in such a prestigious zip code, but that garage only provided room for his car, his sister's car (which Georgie had not taken with her to college) and Yvonne's.

Mason Darcy would wake up one day and realize what he had in her was what he needed as CEO of such a prestigious Silicon Valley firm. Alex was perfectly happy to bide her time while she waited for Mason Darcy to realize what a good thing she was.