That's How it Happens

6. Exit Wounds and Espresso

There was something about Ainsley Drake from day one. Leo couldn't quite put his finger on it – maybe it was the way she stood out without trying, like a puzzle missing half its pieces but still somehow beautiful. She was quiet, reserved, and completely unqualified for the job she was interviewing for. Naturally, Leo ignored her.

In his world, confidence was currency. You didn't get ahead at Elum Insights by playing nice – you bulldozed your way through with sharp elbows and sharper ideas. Ainsley didn't bulldoze. She barely spoke. But when she did, her ideas were solid. Smart. Unexpected.

Curiosity got the better of him. He skimmed her background – okay, fine, he ran a full check. Less creepy than it sounds. Mostly. What he found shocked him: Ainsley Drake, daughter of the late Brock Drake, heir to one of the oldest fortunes in the U.S.A. Everyone knew the Drakes. No one knew Ainsley.

So why was she applying for a job? A oopsie moment on Drake's part? And why, after the interview, had Leo followed her to her car?

He hadn't expected to find her living in it.

The discovery deepened the mystery.

Burning with curiosity, he knocked on her window/bedroom - or maybe it was her living room; one could never be too sure when coming across a "mobile" home. She was embarrassed, naturally, which wasn't his intention, so being the nice guy he was, he offered to buy her dinner – only to interrogate her. Fair is fair. He was shocked yet pleased that she accepted, albeit reluctantly.

Over lukewarm pasta, he asked too many questions, of which she gave vague answers. It was then that he realized running a complete background on someone and then giving them the details, so they knew what you had done wasn't exactly considered normal or smart. Ainsley freaked out on Leo in the middle of the restaurant and called him a stalker. Then, for reasons still unclear to him, she insisted she wouldn't sleep with him, which Leo found shocking on both accounts - he was a decent-looking guy, not before throwing her drink on him and ruining his favorite shirt. She had run off, leaving Leo as the disconcerted one. Thank God, he hadn't taken her to a restaurant he frequented.

He chased after her, apologized profusely, and – because he was apparently losing his mind – offered her a job on the spot.

A player he might be. A sleazeball he was not.

The madness didn't stop there. That same night, he offered her a place to stay. Not with him – he wasn't that crazy – but below him. And before your dirty mind runs amok, schmuck, he offered her an apartment in his building. She accepted. No furniture, no belongings, just a duffel bag and a guarded smile. He helped her move in anyway.

He couldn't explain it, but something about her made him want to protect her. Maybe it was the way she looked like she needed more than just a hug – perhaps therapy, maybe a miracle – but Leo wasn't a professional. He just felt responsible. Which, in hindsight, made him the crazy one.

Ainsley started at Elum Insights the following Monday as Leo's assistant. She insisted on starting at the bottom. Leo had mad respect for that, but he refused to put her in the mail room with all the second-chance employees and geeks. She was too shy. Too delicate. Too...something.

She was brilliant at the job. Organized, efficient, and somehow always one step ahead of him. When she eventually moved up, she hired her own replacement – but still kept tabs on everything just in case.

She didn't need to. But Leo didn't mind.

There was something about Ainsley Drake. And that was all she wrote.

What began as a weekend helping a woman in need quickly evolved into a fast-paced, oddly seamless friendship. Leo and Ainsley did everything together – movies, dinners, even family gatherings. Before her, Leo was firmly in the camp that men and women couldn't just be friends. He'd struggled with it at first. But Ainsley proved him wrong.