Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 29567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Ugh.
“Let me show you to your new office, Miss Locke.” Tracey finally takes a breath, walking me past a hallway of glass doors and beautiful rooms.
She stops at a desk.
A glass desk right outside the double doors of Mr. Sutton’s office.
Before I can ask her a question, the elevator pings behind me, and Mr. Sutton’s energy hits the room first—sharp, clean, cold like a new suit fresh from tailoring. He says nothing to us as he enters his office.
The doors shut behind him.
“He’ll call for us after he enjoys his breakfast,” Tracey says. “In the meantime…”
I’ve had enough. I rush toward Mr. Sutton’s doors and open them, slipping inside.
Mr. Sutton looks up from his coffee as I approach his desk.
“I don’t believe I’ve called for you yet, Miss Locke,” he says. “I’ll let you know when I want to see you.”
“This is an emergency,” I say. “A stage five one,” I repeat what I previously heard the other guy say.
“In that case.” He leans forward. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t believe my job description in the contract is matching what Tracey is asking me to do.”
“You said this was an ‘emergency’…”
“I didn’t agree to become your personal assistant,” I say. “That’s—not something I’m interested in at all.”
“So, you’d like me to demote you back to the intern level?”
“If I could keep the pay, yes…”
He lets out a low laugh that sends shivers up and down my spine. Then he slowly rises from his chair and walks toward me, moving closer and closer until his custom Italian leather shoes brush against my Target-branded pumps.
“Since you clearly have always struggled with following directions here,” he says, “allow me to make a few things clear. You’re now being paid to do what I need you to do, and you don’t get a say in that…”
I grit my teeth, trying not to inhale his intoxicating cologne.
“In addition to being a marketing advisor, you’ll learn how to assist me in numerous ways because Tracey is getting promoted at the end of the year, and I might need you to stand in for her.”
“But—”
He presses his fingers against my lips, daring me to say another word, turning me on against my will.
“I’ll summon for you when I need to see you, and I’ll summon for you when I’m ready for my lunch, which better be on time,” he says, slowly moving his finger away. “And as sexy as your brand of sarcasm is, I would like to hold off on hearing it for the rest of the morning.”
“That’s the end of this discussion.” He steps back and nods to the door. “You’re dismissed now.”
He returns to his desk and his breakfast, pulling out files and reading them as if I’m not there.
Swallowing everything I want to say, I turn on my heels and walk through the doors, right into a red-faced Tracey.
“Next time you do that, I’m writing you up.” She points to the seat at my new desk. “Now, get comfortable and write down what you need to do between now and lunch.”
THE CEO
DOMINIC
At exactly twelve forty-five, Ivy walks into my office with a covered silver tray. As she crosses the floor in the dark purple dress that clings to her curves in all the right places, I’m mentally drafting another message to Human Resources.
I’ve made a mistake in adding the additional element to Miss Locke’s job description. Place her someplace where she’ll be out of my sight whenever we’re not in marketing meetings…
She hasn’t even been here a full day, and I’ve already had five fantasies of what I’d like to do to her smart-ass mouth.
“Thank you for this lunch, Miss Locke.” I smile at her as she sets it down. “I really appreciate it.”
“You’re so very welcome, Mr. Sutton.” She lays out the silverware—just like Tracey taught her to—and then she serves me a smile that looks like it could be a prologue for my murder.
“Is there anything else I can do to make you happy, sir?”
Bend over my desk…
“No, but here…” I pull out my wallet and take out a hundred-dollar bill. “I know how you feel about getting a decent tip for your work. I believe I owe you this anyway, correct?”
“If you promoted me just to make me see how terrible you are, I’m sorry to say you’ve wasted your time,” she says. “I already knew that.”
“That’s not why I promoted you,” I say. “I could’ve sworn I already discussed this…”
“Is there going to be any actual ‘marketing’ work involved on my first day, then? Or should I start waiting in anxious anticipation of your dinner order?”
“I don’t take too kindly to being assaulted with words, Miss Locke.”
“Then I hope you never hear what everyone else in this building really thinks of you…”
“Now I see exactly why you got written up so many times,” I say, rescinding the tip. “It’s like you’re desperate to have the last word.”