Chapter 3

Isa

The first few days on the island of Sheppey were all about getting settled into the apartment I was sharing with Jas. It was a cute little place on the third floor of a really old building. We had a living room with a tiny kitchen stuck to it, a bathroom we shared with the nice old lady across the hall (who had some interesting stories to tell!), and a bedroom just big enough for our two single beds, two dressers, and one wardrobe for our clothes.

Even though I hadn't brought a lot of stuff from America, the wardrobe was already looking pretty full. So, Jas and I went to the hardware store and got a simple wooden rod that we hung from the ceiling next to the wardrobe. That became my extra closet. It looked kind of mismatched and unique, but I actually liked it. It felt homey.

By Monday morning, I was mostly unpacked and knew where the closest grocery store was. I was also really glad that Cass was easy to get along with. Plus, she had a boyfriend with his own place, so I got plenty of time to myself in the apartment, which was nice.

"Oh good, you're still here!" Cass yelled as she came into the apartment in the morning. I was drinking coffee and eating pork sausage, which is the Gaelic sausages she had made. There were leftovers, and I was eating them like I hadn't eaten in days.

I had to swallow before I could answer her. "Yeah, I don't have to be at work until nine."

She threw her purse on the table. "I wanted to be here to wish you good luck on your first day!"

"Thanks," I said. I was really happy I had Jas as a roommate. "I'm glad I started the internship a week before school. I'm already nervous enough, I can't imagine starting classes today too."

She sat down and took a piece of my sausage. "I made these for Eddie this morning," she said, talking about her boyfriend. "He ate all of them in five minutes."

I shook my head. "Boys," I said. "My brother, Harry, used to come home from college and eat a whole box of cereal with a ton of milk in a big bowl. And he still weighed less than most of the girls on the soccer team."

"If I ate like that—" Jas took another piece of my sausage. I pushed the plate toward her because I was too nervous to eat much anyway. "—I'd be the whole soccer team."

Talking about Harry reminded me of the email he had sent. He was an FBI agent. Not the cool, sunglasses type, but the kind who worked on a computer, tracking bad guys online. He was good with technology, like I hoped to be with numbers. Harry must have seen something about Cole Automobile because he sent me a warning email:

To: TessR@chiu.edu From: NR280@fbi.gov Hey Mess (he called me that), Hope you're okay in Greece. Mom said you got there safely.

Glad you have a roommate. Be careful alone in a foreign country (he's in law enforcement, and I'm his little sister, so he's overprotective). Mom also told me about the company you're interning at. I'm not sure your school did enough research. If I were you, I'd skip the internship and just focus on classes.

Now, here's the thing. Harry can't talk about his work, it's a secret. But sometimes he finds out things about friends or family – like a hotel breaking rules or a doctor being investigated. He wants to warn people but can't. So, he uses vague warnings.

If you do the internship, tell me how it goes. Email me at work if anything seems wrong. You know what I mean, Mess, right?

Also, don't go out with any Celtic guys. Seriously.

You're annoying Harry.

Thinking about his email made me even more nervous about work. It was probably nothing, like the Coles not paying some small fee. I tried not to worry about it. Harry was just overprotective. I wasn't going to avoid all Celtic guys because of him, and I wasn't going to quit my internship.

"Earth to Isa," Cass said with a smile. "Thinking about your new boss?"

I snorted. "No way. I probably won't even see him. He probably only talks to the important people, not interns."

"Well, you know the stories about interns and their bosses…" "Shut up!" I hit her arm. My face felt hot. I had a quick thought of me, Jackson Cole, a desk, papers everywhere, and… well, things getting messy.

I took a deep breath. Change the subject. Fast.

"What's going to happen with you and Eddie when you go back to Miami?" I asked.

Jas smiled. "We'll be apart for a bit, but he's coming to visit, and I'll go back to see him. Then in August, I'm coming back here to work at my aunt's shop. I worked there last summer too."

"You have family here?" I asked, realizing why she knew so much Gaelic.

"Yeah, my mom is Celtic. Her family lives here. She met my dad when he was stationed in Scotland. He married her and took her to the States."

I stood up and took the dishes to the sink.

"That's cool."

"What's even cooler is my aunt let me borrow her car. Want a ride to work?"

I knew I'd have to learn the bus eventually, but right now, I was too nervous. I could be independent later. After I survived my first day at a job where they spoke a different language and my boss was a cocky billionaire.

"Yes, please!" I smiled at Jas.

"Good, but wear higher heels. You need to show Jackson Cole he can't mess with you. He won't take you seriously if you look like a little doll."

Being short was annoying.

The receptionist in accounting at Cole Automobile spoke perfect English. She was tall, curvy, and dressed perfectly, like only European women would. Her clothes were simple but showed off her figure. She had long, dark, shiny hair and perfect makeup.

"I'm Viola Dunn," she said, standing up to shake my hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm glad you speak English. I want to learn Gaelic, but it's hard to take many courses in America. So, I don't know any yet, but my school said someone here would speak English." I stopped, out of breath. I was really nervous and needed to be quiet.

Viola looked at me with a slight smile. "Cole is an international company," she said proudly. "All our employees speak many languages. You'll probably be the only one who doesn't."

Oh. Okay. That was embarrassing. I tried to stand taller. Maybe my heels weren't high enough.

"If you'll come this way, we have a staff meeting every Monday. We can set up your desk after."

I followed Viola through hallways and cubicles to a conference room in the back. About a dozen people were at a table, and more were in chairs around the room. The offices were right by the dock where I arrived. There were white buildings along the docks, and across the street were huge ships with "Cole Automobile" on them, taking up all the good ocean view.

When we got to the conference room, Viola told me to take a chair against the wall while she sat at the head of the table. Everyone was talking quietly. I looked around. No one seemed to notice me. Most people were older, but there were two women and one guy who looked closer to my age. The guy was handsome in a typical Celtic way—olive skin, dark hair, stylish clothes. He reminded me a little of Jackson, but without that strong, attractive energy that Jackson had.

I wondered how old Jackson was. Was it hard for him to be the boss of older people? What did being the boss even mean here? Did he come to meetings, or did his workers handle everything?

The door opened, and a deep voice chuckled.

"Okay Brian, we'll get those numbers to you today. This will be a great project. Looking forward to it." I looked up as Jackson reached the table and ended his call. Everyone in the room shifted, like they were drawn to him. I was a little mesmerized. He was like the sun.

His hair was perfectly styled, and his eyes looked even bluer against his dark hair. He wore black pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. When I saw his hands, I remembered how they felt when he caught me at the airport. Heat went through me. His fingers were long and looked strong.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, moving papers on the table before looking up. His eyes met mine for a second.

Maybe no one else noticed, but I did. Then he gave a slow, confident smile and looked at the rest of the room.

"Hope you all had a good weekend?" he asked. Everyone said yes. His smile grew as he looked back at me.

"We have someone new here today. Would you like to introduce yourself?" he asked, pointing to me.

My throat was dry, and I couldn't breathe easily. The look in his eyes said he liked putting me on the spot.

Jerk.

I took a breath.

"My name is Isadora Silva," I said, my voice a little shaky. I hated that. I took another breath and sounded stronger. "I'm a new intern from Miami University, studying forensic accounting. I'll also be taking classes here. I don't speak Gaelic yet, but I want to learn, so please teach me as much as you can. About Celtic and accounting."

When I finished, I looked around. Most people looked friendly. The handsome guy I noticed earlier was smiling at me like I was the most interesting thing at Cole Automobile in years. I smiled back, and he winked. My eyes went to Jackson. He frowned at the other guy, then looked at me.

"Welcome to the Cole," he said, his face showing nothing.

"Everyone will introduce themselves during the meeting, but stay after so we can chat."

Then he said, "You'll be working directly for me."

What? No way. The meeting ended, but I couldn't tell you what it was about. People said their names, and each department gave a report, but it was all just a buzzing in my head. Working directly for him? The rich guy who didn't follow rules? The most attractive and annoying man I'd ever met? I was in big trouble.

First, he'd probably make me work in some awful place to punish me for being rude. Then I'd have to see his sexy smile every day while he gave me the worst jobs. And all the women in the office probably hated me now. Tall, perfect Viola spent the whole meeting giving me angry looks. She didn't realize he wasn't interested in me; he was just trying to torture me.

As people left, they said "goodbye" and "welcome." A few women looked me up and down, sneering at my American college clothes. They all looked so stylish and European. My simple black skirt and white shirt made me look like a waitress. Thank goodness for Jas's heels. They were the only thing saving me from total fashion disaster.

Then it was just us. Jackson Cole and me. I stood up straight and walked toward the table where he was looking at his phone.

"It's nice to meet you formally," I said, trying to sound professional, and held out my hand.

He looked up, a wry smile on his incredibly handsome face. He leaned against the table and crossed his arms. "Yes. It is, isn't it?"

My heart skipped a beat. It was because I was scared of what he'd do, not because his muscles looked good in his shirt.

I took my hand back since he wasn't going to shake it. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He looked like he was enjoying it. Then, just when I thought I might yell to break the silence, he said slowly, "We have some rules here at the Coles—" I braced myself.

"So I think you'd better start learning them." He walked to a bookshelf and grabbed a thick binder. It looked really heavy. He came back and held it out, raising an eyebrow.

"You're kidding, right?" Oops. There went my attempt to be professional.

"I thought you liked rules?" he said.

"I think they're important for society."

"And for my company," he replied, still holding out the binder.

I looked at the cover. It was in Gaelic. "I can't read that. It's in Gaelic." I couldn't help the small smile.

He dropped the book on the table. "English is on the back of each page," he said.

Shoot. My heart sank.

"Read the first three chapters on our policies, and my secretary will show you your office soon."

Oh. Only three chapters? I looked up and saw his cocky smile. He did that on purpose. He was messing with me.

I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth. I almost growled, but stopped myself. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, his breath warm, his voice smooth, "This is going to be fun." Then he walked past me, his finger lightly touching my arm, leaving a trail of heat. Seriously. I was on fire.

When the door closed behind him, I was still standing there, trying to remember how to breathe.

*******

"What did he say?!" Jas yelled from the kitchen as I stood in the living room.

"You heard me," I answered, throwing myself on the couch.

"What does that mean?" she asked, closer now. I looked up. She had baklava on a plate. She put it on the table, gave me a fork, and sat next to me. We started eating.

"Probably that he's going to enjoy making my life miserable because I was rude to him at the docks."

Jas grunted. "Yeah, right."

"What?"

"I think he means 'fun' in a different way."

I choked. "Fun in my pants? Are we twelve?"

"I'm just saying, he looked at you like he wanted to eat you at the docks. I don't think he wants to torture you the way you think."

I shivered at the thought of Jackson Cole "torturing" me that way. Hmm.

"As nice as that sounds, it would never happen. We're totally different, and I can tell he hates me. Working for someone who wants me to be miserable all year is going to suck."

Jas laughed. "Keep telling yourself that. Call me when you wake up in his bed."

I rolled my eyes. "He's gorgeous, but he's not my type."

Jas stood up. "Isa. Jackson Cole is every woman's type."

I looked out the window and sighed as she cleaned up. I was afraid she might be right, and I might be in big trouble.