The Temp (Commitment Book 1) Read online

  THE TEMP

  Amber Caldwell

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Amber Caldwell. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter One

  Jade Spencer hurried out of the bedroom, looking for her work shoes. She hadn’t left the basement apartment all weekend, exhausted from working three extra shifts at her job. The only reason she’d kept up the hectic pace for the past month was because she told herself it was only for a time.

  She wanted to save as much money as possible so that when she finally started evening classes at community college in the spring semester, she’d be able to work a regular forty hour a week shift. School costs money and Jade’s student loan would only cover tuition; books and any extras would have to come out of pocket.

  She found her black Keds at the side of her blue Ikea couch. She was normally a neat freak, putting everything in her apartment in its proper place, but when she’d entered through her front door Friday evening, all bets were off. She hadn’t even taken a shower. Straight to bed.

  She went to the bathroom to double-check how she looked. She needed some lipstick and picked up a tube. She slid the lipstick across her lips, the soft red color instantly brightening her face. Jade never skipped foundation and lipstick when she went to work. Though many of her co-workers at the Oasis Bistro wore heavy makeup, she didn’t.

  Her co-worker Amanda held the belief that some power-suit guy would walk into their restaurant one day, take one look at Amanda, and sweep her off her feet. Jade didn’t believe in any of that BS.

  Men in power suits came into the bistro every day. After all, it was located in northwest Washington DC. Many reputable and established businesses lined Massachusetts Avenue and the surrounding areas for blocks. It wasn’t totally ridiculous to think she could wait for a man, but Jade was a go-getter. It was the beginning of August and she had a couple months left before she started the spring semester in January. She was on her way to better things.

  Jade didn’t intend to work at the restaurant too much longer either. She was tired of working for tips. Not knowing exactly how much money she’d be bringing in each month put her on edge.

  She remembered the one month she was two hundred dollars short of rent money. If nothing else was paid, Jade was resolute about having her rent paid on time. Though her landlord was an elderly woman, she didn’t play about collecting her rent. She’d also warned Jade the one time she was late by five days.

  Jade looked up. The bathroom ceiling had been leaking since Thursday night, and the rain had continued off and on throughout the weekend. The plastic bowl Jade placed on the sink was halfway full. She emptied it and put it back. She scoffed as she left the bathroom. Blasted lady wants her money on time but I’ve been waiting how many days for the leak to be fixed?

  She huffed as she locked her door, which was at the side of the brownstone house, then walked up the stairs. She adjusted the fake designer Louis Vuitton satchel she carried on her shoulder and walked briskly down the sidewalk.

  Jade hoped that one of the two jobs she’d interviewed for the week before would call her. Not only would a stable salary be a relief, but she also wouldn’t have to pick up extra shifts. She’d made sure she’d applied to jobs that paid her enough to comfortably cover her rent, plus put something into her savings account. A new gig before winter hit would also be a relief because she desperately needed some new clothes. If she didn’t get through, Jade figured she’d at least go to Burlington Coat Factory and get herself a decent coat. She still remembered the chill she’d felt the previous winter while waiting for the train.

  She looked both ways and crossed the street toward the main road. She walked until she was caught up in the busy bustle of morning pedestrians. That was one perk of where she lived: it was only about an eight minute walk to the red line train.

  She went down the stairs and pulled the train’s fare card out of her jeans pocket. She swiped the card and entered the platform of the station. ‘Red Line toward Shady Grove,’ she heard over the audio system. She only had three stops before she got off, walked a block west, and then made a right turn. The bistro was located smack dab at the corner of Massachusetts Avenue.

  Jade often daydreamed about walking right past it.

  ***

  Amere Montgomery was waiting. He’d discovered through trial and error that the beautiful black woman that made him take a second look, then a third, while on the train one week earlier stuck to a schedule.

  He’d taken the train on the first day more out of whimsy than necessity, to see how long it’d take him to get to work since his car was in the shop. It’d needed some unexpected work, and the mechanic had told Amere it’d be ready in four days. Though he’d be a billionaire via an inheritance, Amere wasn’t resting on his laurels. The money was guaranteed when his grandfather passed. Still, Amere enjoyed working and creating his own success.

  He’d refused a ride from a co-worker, opting to take the train. It was a mere couple of blocks from his high-rise condo in Bethesda. He’d take the red line to Shady Grove and get off at the stop nearest the K Street office, where his company, Prol Communications, was located.

  Amere smiled to himself when he got on the train. Everywhere he looked, people were ‘blocking out the world’—he’d expected as much. It was a concept he’d come up with when his marketing firm needed an ad for a famous footwear company.

  “How can we make a big enough splash so that people used to blocking out the world and doing their own thing take notice?” he’d asked those at the company’s weekly brainstorming meeting. “We have to make them pay attention to our campaign.”

  They’d come up with a brilliant concept. The client loved it. The client paid well—and that was what was important to Amere: money. His big problem was that he never knew what the women in his life liked more, Amere, or Amere’s ATM card.

  Though his line of work paid well, Amere was getting bored with the fancy dinners, weekend trips to Las Vegas, and summer jaunts to St. Barth. Sure, there were other equally rich people he could hang around, but Amere had come to the realization that he needed to spend money, and plenty of it, to hang out with some of his wealthy peers. He couldn’t just chill out at a bar with many of them—what would they talk about if the setting wasn’t opulent?

  He got off the train after twenty minutes and exited to get his breakfast at a corner café he’d discovered on that fated first day. He’d overheard the passengers behind him raving about the food at the café. When the train pulled to a stop and they’d stood up to get off, Amere had casually followed them, his mouth watering. He was a big foodie, a trait he attributed to the fact that his mother had never cooked when he was growing up, and he’d never bothered to learn.

  The Belgian waffles, vegetable omelette, and chicken sausage he ate that morning became his favourite breakfast. He couldn’t help himself after that, and got off at the same stop every morning, though it meant he had to reboard the train and ride along for ten more minutes to K Street. His company was in the heart of K Street, a street littered with other PR and marketing companies, as well as law firms.

  The morning he’d first seen the woman was a wet one. Amere had barely made it back to the station when the downpour came. He’d checked his watch and saw that it was ten minutes to nine, and when he looked back up, she was standing near him.

  She smelled of vanilla mixed with citrus. It made him turn to her.

  She was gorgeous with long lashes and pouty, full lips. Amere took a deep breath, looked straight ahead at the rails, glanced at her again, and then looked away. When he took a chance to check her out again, she was looking right at him. Their eyes met. Hers were brown, and for a second Amere’s blue eyes were lost in them, but then she blinked, frowned—a sharp line creasing in between her brows—and then looked away.

  Amere, dressed in a tailor-made navy suit from Fifth Avenue, polished black leather shoes, and a genuine Rolex, felt stung.

  He didn’t know why.

  His palms felt sweaty. Normally, women eyed him, drank him in when they saw him. He’d been called handsome enough to know that he was. He consistently went to the gym three times each week, and now he’d just been frowned upon.

  He wanted her.

  He wanted to turn her around so that their eyes met once more and spend the day with her. It seemed like she didn’t want him, but Amere was a professional at convincing people to see things his way.

  The train came. The doors opened. A flurry of people came out while those standing on the platform waited at the sides.

  She got on the train. Amere didn’t take his eyes off the back of her black hair, shiny and shoulder length. He wondered if it was a weave. His older sister loved wearing blonde weaves in different shades. He wanted to kno
w more about the woman, from the smallest details to the biggest.

  How could he get to know her?

  Chapter Two

  He sat two seats behind her on the opposite row. Amere was surprised she didn’t pull out a smartphone. She didn’t pop headphones into her ears or pull out a magazine or something else to read. He’d noticed that the majority of commuters did something to entertain themselves on the train ride, but the woman just stared out the window.

  Then she got up and got off when the train’s doors opened. Amere watched as the doors closed. As the train slowly moved forward, Amere looked at the sign that told passengers what station they were at. He sighed loudly. He’d missed his stop.

  His first day taking the train turned into a week. He’d discovered on the second day that if he showed up late, he’d miss her. At exactly 8:50 a.m., the woman would be standing on the platform, to the right of the beam just after the stairs. The train was scheduled to arrive at their platform at 8:53 a.m. She was a creature of habit; he admired that about her. His parents were French immigrants and they’d taught him not only about the value of hard work, but about the importance of showing up on time.

  Amere couldn’t believe an entire week had passed. During that time he’d studied her form. She was curvy with well-toned arms. She wore jeans every day, her hair down and curled at the ends. Only once had Amere gotten close enough to notice her earrings. They were cubic zirconia studs—Amere knew real diamonds when he saw them; his mother owned a jewellery store in Bethesda.

  The rainy weekend gave Amere ample time to think. He didn’t know why he was taking so long to make a move on this woman.

  The look she’d given him had both intrigued him and made him hesitant. He felt the slight doubt lingering in his head and he didn’t like it one bit. He knew he wasn’t every woman’s cup of tea, but there were plenty of women willing to drink up. Amere smiled to himself.

  He would find a way to approach her. Just do it, he thought to himself. Amere was determined that week two would become one of introductions.

  ***

  The day couldn’t get any crappier for Jade. Not only were the tips coming in more slowly, but a customer had just grabbed her butt.

  She marched toward the bistro’s kitchen, pushing the door open with her back out of habit, though she carried no hot plates in her hands.

  “Mr. Gumphrey,” Jade called. “Mr. Gumphrey!”

  “Yes, Jade.” The middle-aged manager came from around the counter. He had a pudgy stomach, thinning hair, and a beige complexion at best.

  “A customer just grabbed my bottom,” Jade said, irate. She placed her hands on her hips.

  “The same one you complained about yesterday?”

  Jade nodded. The man had sat in her serving section, at the same table. He’d remained seated after she’d finished serving him and he’d paid, his catcalls to her remaining ignored.

  Mr. Gumphrey exhaled loudly like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

  Jade watched him, her irritation growing steadily. Either Mr. Gumphrey didn’t know what to do, or he didn’t want to do anything about it.

  Jade would’ve been more than happy to take matters into her own hands, but then she’d more than likely end up without a job. She was ready to throw water in the man’s face. How dare he think he can touch me? She fumed.

  “Listen.” Jade’s neck rolled and her hands remained on her hips. “This is harassment.” That got Mr. Gumphrey’s attention. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Mr. Gumphrey threw his arms up. “I’ll just have to ask him to leave.”

  “And if he should come back, I do not want to serve his table or the tables near him.”

  Mr. Gumphrey looked at Jade sternly. He was the kind of manager who didn’t like the wait staff having too much input. It was this sort of thing that frustrated Jade, but she held her ground, knowing full well that Mr. Gumphrey shook in his boots a little when she uttered the word “harassment”.

  “I’ll deal with it,” Mr. Gumphrey said before he walked out of the kitchen.

  A few of the kitchen staff voiced their concern, but Jade brushed it off. “I’m fine now. At least management’s letting the customer know that behavior isn’t going to fly here.” She sighed. “I need a break.” Jade checked her watch; it was close enough. “I’m taking my fifteen minute break now.” She changed out of her work shirt, a black polo with the bistro’s logo on the front, before she left.

  She quickly walked down the sidewalk and turned the corner. Mr. Gumphrey didn’t like staff members taking their break in front of the restaurant.

  Being a waitress was becoming more frustrating to Jade every month, not only because she was never sure how much she’d earn, but because the younger staff members only reminded her of how much time she’d wasted in her own life.

  She shook her head, not wanting to think about it.

  She was a twenty-five-year-old waitress without a college degree, but at least she was surviving on her own. She’d finally figured out what she really wanted in life: to succeed.

  She had something to prove, and not only to herself.

  Chapter Three

  The cell phone ring made Jade jump. She paused and looked around. She was standing in front of Nordstrom. She touched the store’s windows; the items in there were way out of her price range. Jade pulled the phone out of the back pocket of her jeans, not bothering to look at the caller ID on the screen.

  “Hello,” Jade answered, trying to make out the price on the handbag she saw in the display window.

  “Hi, can I speak to Jade Spencer,” said a chirpy voice.

  Jade smiled involuntarily. Who is this happy camper? “Yes, this is Jade.”

  “Hi, Ms. Spencer. This is Laura from Prol Communications. You interviewed for a position last week.”

  Jade almost peed her pants. It must be good news. A potential job didn’t call to say, ‘Sorry, we’re not going to hire you.’ Jade had interview for a handful of office jobs before, and the ones she didn’t get, she either never heard back from, or they sent her a letter stating she wasn’t hired.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “We’d love to have you come on board, though not for the receptionist position you interviewed for. The company is looking to fill an assistant position now and HR feels your skillset might be better suited for it.”

  Jade opened her eyes wide. Of course she’d take the job. If anything, she’d get to sit down in a chair rather than be on her feet all day. Plus, it would pay her more than she got at the bistro.

  “Just to let you know, the position is temporary and starts at the beginning of September. The assistant at the company is having surgery and will be gone for about four months. Will this work for you?”

  Jade felt a bit of disappointment at the idea of a temporary gig, but she had to think it over—and quick. “Do you need an answer right away?”

  “I’m afraid I do.”

  Jade thought about it. If she left, she’d have four months of employment at an esteemed marketing company. But the assistant will only be gone for four months. What if her recovery time takes longer? Jade wrung her hands. Maybe if the company liked her work, another position would open.

  She exhaled. She would still have a few more weeks at the restaurant before she had to leave. Maybe she would even look for another job before the four month period was up at Prol. She’d have to see how things went.

  What did she have to lose? If anything, she’d end up with another waitressing job.

  “I’m happy to accept,” Jade said.

  She could tell Laura was smiling.

  “Okay, great. The hours are nine to five. Please come an hour early on your first day to fill out the necessary paperwork.”

  “All right.”

  “We have your email on file, so I’ll just email you some additional details today, including the company policies. You can read it over before you start. You’ll let us know if you have any questions on your first day, okay?”

  “Sure thing, Laura.”

  “Take care then.”

  “Bye.” Jade smiled before hanging up. She eyed the handbag through the store window and pointed at it. “Purse, I’m coming for you,” she said playfully. Then she drew nearer to read the price tag. She wouldn’t venture in; she still had a job to get back to. “$239.99,” she said aloud before whistling. Jade laughed. She couldn’t imagine paying so much for a handbag. Maybe someday I’ll come back and get it.