The Commander (Men of Hidden Justice #3) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Men of Hidden Justice Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
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“I’m out at meetings a lot. Looking for new business, meeting with current clients.” I lied smoothly. “I often come and go using my private entrance.” I indicated the door that led to the hall. “If I’m not here and anyone knocks on that door, do not open it. Do you understand?”

Her eyes went round, a trace of fear in them.

“It’s simply a precaution. No one should be in the building unless they are supposed to be here.”

“Yes, I saw the security desk when I arrived last week and was signed in. I met Leo this morning, and he gave me my pass and explained how to use it.”

“Good.”

“So, you’ll leave, and I won’t know you’re gone?” she asked.

“No, I’ll always let you know, but I often slip out that way. I like to use the stairs, and it’s closer.”

“Ah, a fitness guy. I thought you worked out, given your, ah…” She trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

“My, ah…?” I had to ask her.

Color diffused along the tops of her cheekbones, and since her hair was pulled back, I noticed the tops of her ears also darkened. It was rather…endearing.

“You obviously keep in shape,” she murmured.

I let her off the hook. “I try.”

“Okay, so your office is private, you’re out a lot, I answer the phones, field general inquiries, send all serious ones to you, schedule the guys for jobs, follow up with time cards, and do the payroll entry, plus knit afghans?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure about the last one, but the rest I can handle.”

I chuckled at her drollness. “There is a lot of quiet time. Joyce fills hers in with knitting.”

“Could I do schoolwork?”

“I thought you graduated?”

“I have. But I want my master’s. So, I want to keep taking courses, and some I can do online.”

“Then, yes, when it’s quiet, I have no objection.” I drained my coffee. “As long as your work is done, then it’s fine.”

“I’ll always get my work done.” She stood. “I’ll go and sit with Joyce again.”

I thanked her for the coffee and tried not to notice how her hips swayed as she walked out. The way the hem of her dress brushed the backs of her knees. I was almost grateful when she shut the door behind her.

Almost.

I shut my eyes and shook my head. I needed to get a grip.

She was my secretary.

That was all.

By the end of Tuesday, Joyce came to me. “I have shown Taliyah everything. She’s picked it up quickly. I don’t think you or she need me anymore.”

“So, you’re done with me?” I teased her.

“I think it’s the other way around, Mr. Grayson.”

I rounded the desk and handed her a flat box. “Many thanks for your work, Joyce. I will miss you.”

A sly smile lit her face. “Not so much, I think, with her out front.”

I ignored her subtle teasing. “The clicking of your knitting needles was very soothing.”

She chuckled and patted my arm in a maternal gesture. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Grayson. Thank you for your indulgence.”

I indicated the box. “Thank you.”

I knew she would love it. I had bought her a gift certificate at her favorite wool shop. Taliyah had found out the name for me and had, in fact, purchased and wrapped it with the travel voucher I’d bought for Joyce as well from all the staff. Everyone had liked Joyce.

She tapped the box, her eyes surprisingly damp. “I appreciate it. Now be good to that young lady out there.”

“Am I that much of an ogre you have to warn me?”

She paused before leaving. “I think her reach will go far beyond that desk.”

Then with those cryptic words, she left.

For the next couple of weeks, we fell into a pattern. Taliyah was there early every day. She worked hard, made a great cup of coffee, and for the most part, ignored me. I was fascinated watching her. She changed something every day. She adjusted her desk, rearranged the chairs in the outer office. Moved the few pictures that hung on the walls. Brought in flowers for her desk to brighten the area. She liked to stay busy.

No matter what I was doing, what office I was in, I was drawn to the monitor that showed me her. She spent six full days rearranging the file cabinet. Sorting, organizing, stapling until she seemed satisfied. The outer office was immaculate—she seemed to stay busy every moment. She was professional and friendly to the guys, although I noticed her real smiles were still rare. It was as if she carried something heavy and sad with her.

I tried to fight the desire to know what that was and erase it.

She was polite and distant with me. She brought me coffee every day, answered my questions without saying a thing or giving me a clue as to what was going on behind those beautiful eyes. We had very little personal interaction, which was exactly what I wanted in my secretary.


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