Chapter 1

Clare rushed to the head offices of Rush, the magazine giant of Toronto. Everything from political to fashion magazines were published by Rush. unfortunately, today Clare was horribly late for her interview at Fortune, the finance mag. Her auburn curls whipped her face as she pushed through the revolving doors to the glass foyer. Her heels clapped wildly as she ran into the crowded elevator. She tried desperately to fix her hair, much to the amusement of the other riders. These women all towered over her in heels with spikes and gold tacks. Clare smiled quietly to herself. She didn't pay attention to trends but lately it seemed the in thing to equip your outfit with weaponry. When she finally reached the 26th floor, she pushed her way through the angry-looking models and made her way to the front desk where a very colourful man sat looking very unoccupied.

" Hello, my name is..." Clare began but was interrupted by the man's finger, issuing silence. He took a large gulp of coffee, sighing, then turned to face her with a tight smile.

" How may I help you?"

" As I was saying, my name is Clare Edwards. I'm here for the interview." The man forced a smile and picked up the phone.

" Mr. Torres, Clara Edwin is here for you."

" Clare Edwards." repeated Clare slowly, pushing a curl away from her face. Suddenly the doors to the office burst open and a very sharply dressed man stepped through. His hair jet black and an extremely annoyed looked on his face.

" Where's Torres?" he barked and marched up to reception.

" Morning, Mr. Goldsworthy." said the man with a broad smile.

" Morning Tristan, where is that smart man with horrible fashion sense?"

" Shut it Eli, at least I don't look like glitterati." said a short man emerging from a large office. He did seem to have a bland sense of fashion, but who was Clare to say.

" Adam, I'm allowed to be a bit flashy, I work in music."

" Whatever you say. What are you doing here? Other than disturbing my staff." Adam said pointedly at Tristan, who regained his fake productivity.

" I have a problem."

" Your new assistant won't sleep with you?" asked Adam, seemingly unaware of Clare's presence. Eli smirked

" Oh please, so not an issue. I had to fire her because she kept saying we were together, no that is not my problem. My problem is that Dead Hand is backing out of the Molson Amphitheatre project."

" Well of course they would." said Clare clacking her heels together. The two men turned to look at her.

" Excuse me, who are you?" said Eli, his attention drawn to her electric blue eyes. Clare didn't seem flustered by him which was refreshing. She held out her hand to him.

" Clare Edwards." The name seemed to register with Adam

" Oh shit, right, Ms. Edwards, the job you are here for is no longer available."

" What?" said Clare her eyes boring into Adam.

" The .. um... well." stuttered Adam, thrown off by her intense shift in emotions.

" It doesn't exist anymore." said Eli with a sudden admiration for the girl's intensity.

" We've had to scale back our workforce because of cuts." said Adam quietly.

" This thing called the economy," said Eli smiling " it's been quite a bitch lately." Clare let out a sigh of frustration.

" I would say thank you for your time, but you haven't really given me any so, have a good day." she said as she walked away, pulling the doors to no avail.

" It's a push!" shouted Eli walking towards her and pushing the glass door open. Clare looked up at him.

" Thank you." she said tightly and walked towards the elevator. Eli followed her.

" Can you explain about Dead Hand?" he said pushing the 50th floor.

" I need to go to ground." she said, annoyed, pressing G.

" Why won't they play at Molson?" said Eli trying not to stare at her cleavage.

" because they played there a year ago and were stopped mid performance because of noise violations."

" But the noise limits have been changed since then." said Eli moving closer to her.

" They probably don't know that." said Clare trying not to look at his amazing green eyes. Eli smiled broadly.

" You're smart. Are you looking for a job?" Clare looked up.

" Yes!" Eli grinned.

" I need a new personal assistant." Clare's smiled dropped.

" I'm a journalist, not a secretary."

" Assistant." Eli persisted as the doors of the elevator opened. A few very tall, very skinny models waited at the entrance. Eli looked at them. " Would you ladies mind, we're a little busy." They all gave a knowing smile and stepped back as the doors closed. Clare glanced at Eli.

" You sleep with all your assistants, don't you?" Eli smirked.

" It's not a job requirement." Clare sighed

" I'm not going to be your next sexual exploit." Eli smiled.

" I figured as much, here's what I'll promise, I will get you a job as a journalist in the political mag of Rush if, you work for me for a year." Clare bit her lip. Eli took an audible gulp reminding himself that she did not want to sleep with him. Finally Clare looked up at him

" Okay, one year." Eli grinned

" Wonderful, I'll start you at $100,000." Clare's jaw dropped.

" Why didn't you say that." He smirked and got off the elevator.

" See you Monday." She smiled and walked out through the revolving doors. Eli took a deep breath and tried not to think about his new assistant.