Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 103030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
And if they’re all this attractive …
I gulp at the thought.
Just like that, an edginess creeps back over me.
“Get to work, you slacker,” Oliver tells Boone, laughing. “I need to go over a few things with Shaye, and you’re distracting us.”
Boone faces me. “Remember, I have candy. I also have good music playing in my office.”
“I’ll remember.”
“I’m also the crazy pink color on the calendar, so if you need a break, just pencil yourself a meeting with me. I’ll be your cover.”
I laugh. Boone is Hot Pink. Makes sense.
“Noted,” I say. “Thank you, Boone.”
He smiles. “I need to go get some work done because, regardless of what this guy says about me, I do work.” He pats Oliver on the shoulder again. “Have fun.”
I’m not sure what he says after he turns away from me, but Oliver punches him in the arm. Boone grabs the spot with his other hand and disappears from sight.
Oliver turns back toward me and shakes his head. And at this moment, I feel as though I’ve found my footing. The man in front of me is a bit of a goof. He may be CEO, and I’m sure he’s very serious when he needs to be, but in each of our interactions so far, he’s shown that he’s a man I can work with. He’s intelligent, kind, warmhearted … maybe even fun.
I think we’ll vibe well together.
And watching him with his brothers? I raise my eyebrows at him.
“See?” he says. “Baby of the family.”
“I think he’s nice.”
“A nice big pain in my ass.”
Even though the words are pointed, I don’t believe them. I don’t believe he thinks that either. There was too much tenderness between them.
Oliver takes another sip of his coffee. He watches me, his forehead marred. I could sit and watch him all day. He’s somehow even better looking in this lighting. But sitting and staring at my boss like a piece of meat isn’t going to do either of us any favors.
I clear my throat. “Is there anything you’d like me to do first? There’s a lot here to digest, but if there’s something pressing, please let me know.”
“Why don’t you join me in my office, and we can go over a few things?” he says after a short pause. “I know Kelly is going to steer you in the right direction this morning, but I’d like to give you a lay of the land first.”
Don’t read into that.
“Yes. Of course,” I say, blocking out the voice in my head trying to scream things about innuendos.
Oliver turns and disappears inside his office.
I grab a notepad and a pen before getting to my feet. I straighten my blouse.
“You’re doing great,” I say, blowing out a breath. “You got this.”
I lift my chin and follow him into the other room.
Ten
Shaye
Holy shit.
I wasn’t ready. The little pep talk I gave myself before walking into Oliver’s office wasn’t enough. Then again, I’m not sure if I could’ve been prepared for this vision.
This vision of power.
A large, stately desk with a white marble top sits toward the back of the room. Two leather chairs face it. Behind the desk are floor-to-ceiling windows with unparalleled views of the ocean.
A fireplace with faux logs, complete with a mantel adorned with a few framed photos, anchors one wall. A sofa in a deep velvety blue is placed in front of it. On the opposite wall facing the fireplace is a bar with a gold mirror hanging over it.
And, in the middle of it all, stands an Adonis with a furrowed brow and a hint of a smirk. Maybe it’s that we’re in his defined space—I don’t know, but it’s different in here.
More private.
More real.
More official.
I try to tell myself to play it cool—to keep it together, for the love of God because I need this job—but it’s too late. I bet he can see my heartbeat pound through my blouse.
“Close both doors, please,” Oliver says.
I shut both the door to my office and the one to the main lobby area. Breathe, Shaye.
“Our offices can remain open to each other throughout the day if that works better for you,” he says, looking at a piece of paper.
Probably not. “Okay,” I say instead.
“I do prefer to keep a barrier between my office and the reception room.” He looks up. “I’ve had people walk off the elevator right into my office before.”
“Are we talking about Boone?”
Oliver sets the paper down and laughs. “Yes. Mostly.” He sits in his office chair. It squeals with the movement. “Have a seat.”
I sit across from him, the cool leather seeping through the thin fabric of my pants and into my skin. It’s enough of a shock to my system that I shake off the apprehension of the moment and focus on what I came here to do: work.