I’m unnerved that this close, he is just as handsome as his internet pictures, if not more so, and his ruggedness is intimidating. The sheer power of his shoulders and toned body strains behind the expensive clothing; I know from photographs that he prefers more casual attire than suits and ties most of the time. He is sexually intimidating and so far out of my league in every way, and now, that is so much more obvious in the flesh. I swallow hard.
“May I get you a drink, Emma? You look flushed.” His voice pours over me like honey, and my mouth dries up fully. I’m blushing, heat emanating from my roots, and I scowl at my inner adolescent self. He removes his hand and walks away from me with a confident swagger toward his desk.
I’m uneasy and try to regain my equilibrium, swallowing several times to get the moisture back into my parched mouth and keeping my eyes off his ass. A drink would be good right now, if only to release my throat.
“Thank you.” I catch Margo watching me with a strange look in her eye, and I realize it’s a touch of uncertainty. Mr. Carrero moves off to a bar at the rear of the room near the side of his desk; with his back to us, he fixes me a drink.
Shit!
Margo’s thinking I’m just another receptionist with the hots for Mr. Carrero. Another woman to fall at the hurdle of meeting him.
I pull myself together as I smooth invisible wrinkles in my clothes and straighten my body up, trying to regain my professional air and grace. I hate that I’ve shown signs of being rattled. I don’t usually break under so little pressure, and I’m not impressed with myself.
I see her expression ease, and I relax.
Perhaps I’m overthinking this.
I’m mindful that Mr. Black Suit is standing in a corner by the window glaring at us; it’s a little intimidating but also reassuring. Just out of sight to my far left on a long, cream, Italian leather couch, the younger man is sitting below some huge modern art prints depicting what might be naked women. I blink and look again. Yes, naked women.
Ughhh. Really? Could you be any more playboy, Carrero?
Arrick is disinterested in what’s going on. He’s playing with his cell, and I think I recognize the Angry Birds music that Sarah loves to irritate me with. An annoying, immature game, although Arrick looks like his late teens to early twenties, so he can be forgiven for a juvenile game.
“Here you go.” Jake’s voice cuts into my thoughts, bringing my attention back to him as he hands me a tall glass of something bubbly with ice. It’s a cold, transparent liquid that tastes sweetly tropical with an unexpected hint of alcohol. I take a sip and give him a grateful smile, expecting flavored water.
I guess it’s not ice water.
It’s a cocktail, and I try not to show my surprise, but a tiny frown hits my brow before I can correct it, inwardly startled.
Surprising. He did this himself. Booze at work, though?
“Thank you, Mr. … Jake,” I correct, and he gives me a soft smile again. With minor annoyance, I ignore the butterflies rising from my stomach.
Stop behaving like a fourteen-year-old!
“So, Emma, Margo tells me you’ve worked here for just over five years?” He sits back perched on his desk, body relaxed, and eyes fixed on me. Margo stands close by, listening. He is distractingly good-looking, especially when he lounges all casual and charming, very un-boss-like.
“Yes. I’ve worked on various floors but mainly the tenth.” I place my glass on the table so my fingers don’t toy with the rim, showing my nervous habits. I’m disappointed to be putting it down; it tasted amazing, but I’m not a fan of alcohol at work, or anytime for that matter. He has skills with making drinks, though.
“You were Jack Dawson’s assistant for a while?” he questions as his eyebrows dip in an unusually cute way, and he studies me non-intrusively.
Get a grip, Emma!
“Yes, Mr. Dawson.” I smile, although I know it must look as forced as it feels. Dawson, in his late sixties, small, and overweight, is an unbearable letch who grabbed my ass at every opportunity and pressed himself against me whenever I tried to pass him. I was surprised he still had those kinds of urges at his age. He’s the type of man I’m used to dealing with, with his wandering hands and sleazy smiles, the type of man I can handle after years of practice.
“It was Miss Keith who recommended you for this position, I believe?”
Easily distracted by his appearance, I home in on his beautiful teeth, white and perfectly lined up, just as a billionaire’s mouth should be. I wonder how much he spends on dental work every year to be Carrero model material.
“Yes. I loved working for her while her assistant was on leave; I learned a lot from her.” A surge of satisfaction at how relaxed and calm I sound again rushes through my body. My nerves are settling, and his effects on me are winding down with effort. I guess the shock of meeting him is abating finally.
I was wrong about his eyes, though. In person, they’re the most gorgeous, pure green I’ve seen; the photographs don’t do them justice at all.
“She spoke highly of your efficiency and professionalism. It’s rare for Kay to make an internal recommendation for a position like this.” He smiles briefly, and the butterflies swoop back in. I blush, the heat rising up my face, and it annoys me as I try to maintain my professional maturity. I loved Kay Keith as a boss; I was desolate when her assistant returned to work, and I was demoted back to Dawson’s office, returning to the letch and his slimy hands.
“Thank you.” I smile genuinely, inner pride glowing. I have sacrificed so much in my life to get here. It’s not an easy thing to move from a lowly admin assistant up through a company like this in just five years, especially with my meager qualifications.
Margo adds, “Well, I’ve found her to be a joy so far. Efficient and capable, with a good understanding of the business. I don’t think it will take long to get her up to speed with her requirements.” Margo beams at me with an odd twinkle in her eye. I like her. She’s still standing close, observing us, and is oblivious to the other two men behind her. I know she’s watching to see if we are a fit and is standing back to let us get to know each other. Her presence calms me.