Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
The cookies were meant to break the ice. Kurt mentioned Simon had a sweet tooth, and showing up with a homemade gift seemed like a harmless way to start things on the right foot.
After checking in with the security guard at the lobby desk, I rode the elevator up, watching the numbers climb. When the doors finally opened, my first thought was how bright everything was. Natural light poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling across white oak flooring. The walls were a soft champagne color, and the furniture matched the light, airy aesthetic.
To my right, a conference room with glass walls held an oval table and a massive screen for video calls. A side table waited with an empty water pitcher and glasses, the whole space pristine and unused, ready for important people to fill it with important business discussions.
Directly ahead, a short hallway lined with abstract art branched in two directions. Kurt had given me the general layout and mentioned Simon’s office was to the right. I headed that way, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor, until the hallway opened into a wider space.
A casual seating area occupied one corner, two leather couches flanking a low coffee table where magazines like Forbes and The Economist were neatly fanned out. Across from that and out in the open was a desk with clean, modern lines. Nothing on its surface but a computer. My workspace. It had to be.
I set my bag in the ergonomic chair behind the desk, then turned toward the door beside it. A nameplate gleamed on the front with the name Simon Powers.
The door was closed, not exactly an invitation, but I didn’t mind because it gave me a moment to prepare myself to meet my new boss. I drew a deep breath, straightened my spine, and pulled my shoulders back. My grip tightened around the plastic container of cookies.
You’ve got this. You’ll be great at this job. Just show him what you’re capable of.
I fixed a warm, confident smile on my face and knocked.
“Come in.” The voice was low and gruff, carrying an undercurrent of impatience.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The office matched the rest of the floor—modern, bright, clearly designed to project innovation and success. The man himself sat behind a large desk, his back to the windows overlooking New York City. Even seated, I could tell he was a big guy. Broad shoulders strained against the fabric of his white button-up, and a solid chest tapered to what I suspected was a narrow waist. His suit jacket hung on the back of his chair, and he’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing forearms that were… distracting. Roped with muscle. Dusted with dark hair. The kind of forearms that made you wonder what it would feel like to have them wrapped around you.
My pulse skipped a little at that thought, and I forced my gaze upward.
That change in scenery didn’t help. Kurt hadn’t mentioned that Simon was attractive. Not that I’d expect my brother to notice or comment on another man’s looks, but still, a warning would have been nice. Because I was staring, and I couldn’t seem to stop.
His dark brown hair was thick, swept back from his face in a way that looked effortlessly professional. But a single lock had escaped, falling across his forehead, and that small imperfection made him seem more human. More approachable.
My eyes traced the sharp line of his jaw, following it down to his mouth. His bottom lip was fuller than the top, and before I could stop myself, my tongue darted out to wet my own.
I’m not thinking about what it would be like to kiss this man. Absolutely not.
That would be inappropriate on a level that bordered on reckless. I was here to work, to rebuild my career, not to fantasize about my new boss’s mouth and what it was capable of.
I dragged my attention to his eyes and felt the temperature in the room shift. They were green, a deep, mossy shade that might have been warm under different circumstances. Right now, they were cool. Assessing. Fixed on me with an intensity that made me feel like I was being measured against some invisible standard I’d already failed to meet.
“Hello,” I said, injecting brightness into my voice as I crossed the room toward his desk. “I’m Raina. Thanks so much for giving me this opportunity. I don’t know how much Kurt told you about my background, but I’ve worked as an executive assistant before, and I’m really looking forward to getting back to it.”
I was talking too fast, my nerves getting the better of me. A voice in my head screamed at me to slow down, to stop, but Simon hadn’t said a word yet and the silence felt unbearable. “Whatever you need from me, I’ll make it happen. I think we’re going to make a great team.”