Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
"Would you have been livid if he had?”
"No," he says, looking genuine. “Can you let me in, please?”
“Only if you agree that this is completely off the record, and you promise to leave after exactly two hours."
“Deal.”
I usher him inside, and he stalls at the sight of all the holiday decor.
“I probably should've said two minutes,” I say. “I forgot you hate the holidays.”
“I can deal with them for two hours.” He takes off his coat and drapes it over my couch.
I plop down, and he sits next to me.
In moments like this, I feel comfortable around him, like we've known each other in another life.
That can't be possible, though. I would’ve lived in heaven, and he has a special spot in hell.
“Do you plan to fire anyone yet?” I ask.
“Not unless it's someone you suggest.”
“Henry in Accounting has been stealing an extra thousand every week for himself.”
“Why didn't you ever mention that to Mr. Adeleman?"
I shoot him a blank stare, and he laughs.
“Fair enough. I'll look into that. Anyone else?”
“Your personal assistant wants to sleep with you.”
“That's not a reason to fire her.”
“Just giving you a heads up,” I say. “Don't let her get too close.”
“Speaking of 'too close—’” He leans over and gently presses the mark on my neck.
“Who left this on you?”
“You sound jealous.”
“I am... New boyfriend?”
“Maybe,” I say, not wanting to let down my guard completely. “That’s why I only gave you two hours tonight.”
“Hmmm.” He walks to my kitchen like he’s done several times before, opening my cabinets like they’re his own and pouring wine.
Bringing the glasses back to the couch, he drapes an arm around my shoulder.
“Want to watch the last episode of that Murder Doc series?”
“I thought we finished that last week.”
“There’s that one we skipped,” I say. “The coworkers who stabbed each other and then conspired to kill someone’s husband.”
“I’d rather watch a Law & Order: SVU rerun.”
“Yeah, me too…” I pick up the remote and lean against him.
James’ time is up two episodes later, so I escort him to my door.
“Don't forget about tomorrow,” he says, zipping his coat.
“Forget what?”
“How I want my coffee delivered on my desk every morning this week and beyond.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s the least you can do in appreciation for me giving you such a generous raise.”
I wait for him to laugh and tell me this is a joke, but he only serves me his perfect smile.
“Since you have time for a boyfriend and you’re always the first person in the building, stopping at a cafe for two lattes shouldn’t be that big of a deal for you, right?”
I slam the door in his face.
TWO
JAMES
The following morning
Two cups of steamy hot coffee are standing on my desk, and I know better than to take a sip from either. The one on the right sports a sleeve that says, “For my beloved new boss,” while the one on the left says, “I’m not your goddamn intern. Sip SLOW.”
“Daphne!” I call for my assistant.
“Yes, Mr. Calloway?”
“Can you send Miss Stone in here, please?”
“Why?” She moves in front of my desk. “Is something wrong?”
“I need to discuss a few things with her.”
“I can relay the message.” She pulls out her phone. “I can record your words and transcribe them via email verbatim. As the new CEO, you shouldn’t waste your time with the unwashed masses anymore.”
“Miss Stone is literally one position below me, Daphne.”
“Below us, you mean.”
Jesus. “Can you please just send her in here? Now?”
“Only because I don’t want to see my king upset.” She rushes out of the room, and I send a note to Human Resources about replacing her within a year.
Minutes later, Taryn steps into my office wearing a plum-colored dress that clings to her curves and exposes the swell of her perfect C-cup breasts.
My eyes wander down to her matching stilettos as she moves in front of my desk. Envisioning how her legs would feel wrapped around my waist, I shift my gaze up to her beautiful face.
She’s such a fucking vision…
"Well, Mr. Calloway?” she asks. “Did you call me in here for an extra spoon of whipped cream on your coffee?”
“Would you get me one if I asked for it?”
“No.” She picks up one of the cups and takes a slow sip.
Now convinced there’s no poison, I pick up the other while she takes a seat.
“So,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“The Whimstery campaign.” I point to the screen across from us. “You haven’t responded to any of my emails this morning.”
“I’m sure it’s fine, Mr. Calloway,” she says. “As the new CEO, I don't think you should care about an underling’s opinion.”
“I care because there’s no one else in this building who has your eye for design.”
“Hmmm.” She looks at the screen and tilts her head to the side. “The font isn’t screaming elegance to me, and the logo isn’t compelling me to buy the product. If I were you, I’d ask the team to go back to the drawing board.”