Chapter Two

Panicking, I did a pirouette on the spot before bolting out of the door. Thankfully, his office was directly next to the elevator, so after prodding the call button more times than was really necessary, then diving in at lightning speed, I managed to escape the building relatively quickly.

As I climbed into a taxi, the inevitable feeling of mortifying embarrassment set in, which made me to run my hands through my hair in exasperation.

Luckily, the drive back felt much shorter now that my nerves had calmed down slightly, only to be replaced by an overwhelming feeling of humiliation- but still, I was actually able to lean back and breathe normally for the first time in at least a few days.

And, to be completely honest, I thought the interview went pretty well, apart from the moment when I was caught creepily gawking at the CEO. But other than that, I thought I had a shot at this job, or at least, I really wanted to have a shot at this job.

***

I nibbled at my thumb absentmindedly as I scanned the towering shelves opposite me one last time, searching for any other errors that Mr. Collins might pick out.

It looks good enough to me.

Sighing contentedly, I slouched my shoulders as I turned my attention back to the clipboard in my hands. I groaned, irritated by the four more tedious chores lining it.

My boss, Mr. Collins- or cranky ol' Collins, as all of his employees called him- had an infuriating obsession with assigning every one of us a long to-do list- that he compiled himself in the time that he could've been having a social life- containing all of our chores for the month.

Soon enough, I found myself in my signature spot; slouched behind the cashier's desk with a leg propped up on the desk. I knew that the rest of today would be uneventful, so it was probably best to stay out of everyone else's way. Plus, this way, I might be able to avoid being assigned yet another task.

"Miss. Where can I find some decent assistance in this establishment?"

Already shocked by the audacity of this statement, I glanced up at the customer towering over me, then gasped loudly at the sight of who it was. Instantly, I felt the blood drain from my face.

Oh, shit.

The burly security guard who escorted me to my interview at Kendrick Corporations a few days ago glared menacingly down at me. Of course, this was happening.

"Miss?"

Sighing in defeat, I glanced up, and the man's eyes widened when he registered who I was too.

"Miss Morgan. Good day to you," he said matter-of-factly.

"How can I help you, sir?" I asked him half-heartedly, and his eyebrows raised slightly.

"Actually, miss, sir is just outside. I believe he wanted to speak to you. Just a moment."

My mouth fell open as he turned and walked purposefully towards the door.

I'm sorry.. what? Who's outside?

The man returned less than a minute later with none other than Nicholas Kendrick tagging along behind him. My mouth fell open as he talked calmly into his phone, strolling casually down the corridor as if he didn't look like a Greek god.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I tried for a casual smile as his pale green eyes focused on me. Delicious tingles ran down my arms as I took in his silky navy blue shirt and tight jeans.

How does he always look so put together?

We locked eyes, but I quickly averted my stare and rubbed my hands together, trying to stay professional. Thankfully, he spoke first after he got off the phone.

"It's nice to see you again, Miss Morgan."

There was a beat of silence as he glanced at his security guard who efficiently left the establishment.

"Hello," I said. I breathed out silently, stepping out from behind the desk.

He suddenly handed me a slip of paper, and I glanced up at his perfectly chiseled face as he explained. "A list of what I need. We will talk as we go."

Glancing at his list, I began to weave my way back down the corridor leading to the tool section, as I gave myself a brief pep talk about playing it cool, despite my rapidly pounding heart and the longing desire to rip that shirt right off this highly attractive specimen of a man.

As we passed by various other employees, I was not surprised to find out that practically every female and male alike were gawking at us as we cruised slowly through the store.

Oh, so he has the same effect on other people then. Thankfully, I'm not the only one.

Well, obviously; I meant that if you were not immediately impressed by his good looks, then his multi-billion-dollar company would surely get to you.

I effectively ignored a lingering group of girls who were staring a little too intensely at the man behind me, giving him looks that were not subtle at all, as well as the employee who seemed to have completely given up on helping them shop and just looked blatantly irritated by the distraction.

Taking a few seconds to brace myself for anything that might happen next, I turned around and met Nicholas's eyes.

He glanced from me to the shelf I had brought him to, then back at me, and then at the list in my hands. I angled it towards him so that he could take a look at the first item written there, and instantly regretted the decision when he took a step towards me, brushing his arm against mine in the process, to read it. Everything inside of me clenched as goosebumps rippled speedily down my arms.

"What type of panes would you recommend for a greenhouse?" he asked. "The measurements are written there."

He explained clearly, barely glancing in my direction. Confusion surfaced inside me, and I couldn't help but fold my arms across my chest pointedly.

The least he could do was acknowledge me while talking to me, I think and huff silently.

Realizing I had not given him a reply, he flickered his gorgeous pale green eyes on me, and I watched as he arched a single eyebrow.

"Your guard told me you needed to speak to me about something," I said.

He blinked twice, briefly breaking his perfect posture by also folding his arms across his chest. I registered the rather judgmental look that flitted across his face, and from the direction of his gaze, I could infer that it was caused by a reaction to my less-than-formal attire.

I realized that he was probably accustomed to women busting out the skimpy and expensive dress they liked with their scantily clad cleavage and ten-inch heels at all times around him, but for now, he was just going to have to deal with this messy bun and -scruffy I-hate-my-job ensemble I had on.

"We will have to work on your politeness, Miss Morgan," he said under his breath, and it took me longer than usual to stumble backward at his statement because of how much it took me off guard.

"I'm sorry?" I sputtered out.

He spoke coolly after another long, exasperated sigh. "Did you honestly believe that I came here personally to tell you that you didn't get the job? Or anything else for that matter?" he asked, his green eyes narrowing.

Now it was my turn to blink at him.

"Your file provided no email address so I came to give you this." He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. "It's a rough schedule and job description."

I took the envelope, but couldn't seem to muster any words of reply in my stunned state.

"And you also happen to work at a department store, and I needed some tools," he finished.

I absorbed his words fast enough and a huge beaming grin soon overtook my face.

"Wow.. well, uh, thank you!" I let out with an astounding giggle.

Oh my God! Did I get the job? I'm really going to be the personal assistant to this deadly handsome man standing in front of me?

He didn't say anything more and although his face void of emotion would intimidate most people, I couldn't help but follow up with a question which I thought was rather silly but I decided to ask him anyway.

"I have a question..." I started before I realized straight that he had already moved on from our conversation and was back to scanning the shelves, but polite as always, he gave me his full attention as I spoke.

"Can I call you by your first name?" I asked innocently, and his burning gaze transformed and took on a harsher gleam.

"No. Only close friends and family call me by my first name, Miss Morgan. It will be Mr. Kendrick to you and everyone else unless I say otherwise."

"Oh...okay," I replied sheepishly.

A suffocating silence stretched between us after that.

Only close friends and family call him by his first name?