4

She’s thinking I’m just another receptionist with the hots for Mr. Carrero. Another woman to fall at the hurdle of meeting him.

I try to pull myself together, smooth invisible wrinkles in my clothes and straighten my body up, trying to get back my professional air and grace. I hate that I’ve shown signs of being rattled. I don’t normally break under so little pressure, and I’m not impressed with myself.

I catch her expression warm up, 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 the long cream Italian leather couch, the younger man is sitting below some huge prints of modern artistry depicting what might be naked women. I blink and look again. Yes, naked women.

Ughhh. Really? Could you be anymore 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 late teens to early twenties so he can be forgiven for a juvenile game, I suppose.

“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. I take a sip and give him a grateful smile, expecting flavored water. It’s a cold, clear liquid that tastes sweetly tropical with a hint of unexpected alcohol.

I guess it’s not iced 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. I ignore the butterflies in my stomach rising from it, with a minor annoyance.

Stop behaving like a fourteen-year-old!

“So, Emma, Margo tells me you’ve worked here for just over five years?” he sits back to perch on his desk, body relaxed, and eyes fixed on me. Margo standing close by, listening. He is distractingly good-looking, more so when he lazes all casual and charming, and very un-boss like.

“Yes. I’ve worked on various floors, but mainly tenth.” I move to 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?” his eyebrows dip as he questions, unusually cute while studying me non-intrusively.

Get a grip, Emma!

“Yes, Mr. Dawson.” I smile, although I know it must look as forced as it feels. Dawson is an unbearable letch who grabbed my ass at every opportunity and pressed himself against me whenever I tried to pass him. In his late sixties, small, and overweight. 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 kind of man I can handle after years of practice.

“It was Miss. Keith who recommended you for this position, I believe?”

I hone 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. Easily distracted by his appearance.

“Yes. I loved working for her while her own assistant was on leave, she was easy to attend to, and I learned a lot.” A surge of satisfaction at how cool and calm I sound once again rushes through my body. My nerves are settling and his effects on me winding down with effort. I guess the shock of meeting him is abating finally.

I was wrong about his eyes, in person they’re the most gorgeous pure green I’ve seen; in fact, 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, but I’d loved Kay Keith as a boss. I was desolate when her assistant came back to work, and I was demoted back to Dawson’s office. The return to the letch and his slimy hands.

“Thank you.” I smile genuinely, inner pride glowing. It’s not an easy thing to move from a lowly admin assistant through a company like this in just five years, especially with my meager qualifications. I have sacrificed so much in my life to get here.

“Well, so far, I’ve found her to be a joy. Efficient and capable, with a good understanding of the business. Don’t think it will take long to get her up to speed with her requirements.” Margo’s beaming 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’re a fit and is standing back to let us get to know each other. Her presence calming me.

“Glad to hear it—so, Emma; how has it been so far? Learning the ropes of life on the sixty-fifth floor?” There’s a slight humor in his expression, a hint of that Carrero charm he’s famed for. It’s hard not to fall for it if I’m being honest, but I know it stems from years of schmoozing with the rich and famous, and probably fake. He’s a pro.

“A breeze,” I answer coolly, avoiding that penetrative gaze he has going on now. “Nothing I can’t handle so far.” I allow a half-smile of confidence.

“Has Margo warned you about the frequent traveling you will have to undertake, or the unsociable hours we sometimes keep? This job can be full on, Miss. Anderson. It’s not for the faint hearted.” He’s frowning now, still watching me so closely, and it’s a little unnerving.

“Yes, I’m aware that this is not a nine-to-five job, Mr. Carrero. I’m 100% committed to my career, so it will not be an issue.” I reply without emotion, lifting my chin a little to show my determination.

“You’re young … What about a social life?” Still frowning at me. Still trying to scrape away at my surface and figure me out. I would never give a man like him that chance.

“I haven’t much interest in many social activities … I left my hometown to come to New York, and I don’t know many people outside of work.” My voice sounds unsteady, but I doubt he has noticed. He glances at me contemplatively.

“Career oriented? Can be lonely.” He tilts his head to the side and lightly hunches his shoulders in a move that’s devastating to my hormones and makes my body tingle and my temperature soar without warning. I gaze down to the floor for a second and take a breath to combat these alien feelings.

Stop eye raping him, Emma. Have a little more professionalism.

“I’m never lonely, Mr. Carrero … I’m an independent person who doesn’t need assurances, or company, from other people to be happy.” I realize I’ve let my mouth shift into gear ahead of my brain and revealed more than I intended to. Another “old Emma” habit that grinds on me, despite years of trying to overcome it.

It’s true though, I’ve been self-reliant from an early age. I keep people at arm’s length, even Sarah, because it suits me to do so. Relationships bring complications, disappointment, and pain.

He narrows his eyes and studies me again, more probing as this excruciating “chat” continues. Trying to peel my layers.

“Oh, Emma, that’s not the way a young girl like you should live her life.” Margo cuts in, alarmed.

“You’re so pretty … You should have young men romancing you around New York.” She reaches out, touching my shoulder with a motherly squeeze, before returning to her previous position. I smile emptily and ignore the urge to grimace at her words. If only she knew how that thought repulsed me. One thing I learned from my life was that romance does not exist in the minds of most men. Only sexual gratification whether or not you consent to it.

“Sounds like you’re trying to talk her out of stealing your job, Margo.” Jake laughs, lifting his boyish expression to the older woman; a complete change to his first smile. This one seems more natural and even more devastating. I catch the affection flicker between them, and it surprises me. She shakes her head at him.

“No. Emma knows I value her here. I think she’s a perfect fit …” She turns her cloudy gray eyes to me with a genuine warmth that thaws me a little.

“Not too sure how much you’ll like it once Jake starts running you ragged, mind you.” She winks and places a hand on his arm, showing the special bond they seem to share, and I wonder at it. They have a casual and comfortable ambience between them, almost like a mother and son. Very odd.

“I’m sure I can handle the demands,” I cut in confidently.

“Despite Jake’s public playboy reputation, Emma, I’m afraid he’s a workaholic … Surprising, I know, but you’ll get used to it; you’ll rake up plenty of air miles in the next few months.” Margo smiles again wistfully, this time patting Jake on the shoulder. There’s a silent communication between them; secret smiles and glances, and I wonder how I will ever take her place.

“You’ll soon get fed up with seeing the world.” He gives me a comical frown, those alluring eyes back on my face and I hate the way it makes me feel naked.

“And the inside of hotel rooms.” He adds with a cheeky smirk that heats my stomach with a flash. My insides flip over.

I try to ignore the remark. Hoping to take him at face value and hope this internal wave fizzles away as quickly as it appeared. I’m sure I’ll never see the inside of his hotel room. In fact, I can promise I won’t, despite his reputation.

“I’ve seen enough of those to last a lifetime.” Margo waves her hand, throwing him a glance I cannot translate. Oblivious to my reaction.

“Right, we have work to be getting on with … Emma, you’re with me for now.” She gestures to the door behind me, and I nod. Mr. Carrero stands from the perched position of his desk edge and smiles, lifting his hand out again while never breaking eye contact. Holding it to me.

“To our working relationship, Emma.” I accept it, ignoring the same tingling sensation his touch creates, skin ignited and smile tightly to disguise all the sensations. Sighing with relief that this meeting is over; I nod before I turn and follow Margo out of his office. Exhaling quietly and pushing all my taught nerves and anxious tension out with a blow.

Well, I survived meeting Jacob Carrero for the first time. My underwear didn’t self-combust, and I remained intact.

Strike one to me.