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Just us, the boss and his assistant, in New York, for three days; It was Caleb Johnson. It was me. The two of us. Alone.
As if he wasn’t tempting enough when I didn’t have him all to myself.
He nodded. “Excellent.”
With that, the two of us launched into plans for the trip, ironing out travel details. Even so, I realized when we were finished that I still don’t totally know exactly where in New York we’re headed.
I gave him a long look before I headed back to my desk, deep in thought. I was not going to let my out-of-control hormones ruin my chance to actually see the side of him that no one else ever saw.
With my tasks for the day laid out, I slipped out of his office, but before I headed back to my own place to start working, I slipped into the ladies’ room. I splashed a little cool water on my face, the frigid shock cooling some of the crazy swirling in my head.
One way or another, I knew that this was going to be a hell of an interesting trip.
Chapter 3 – Caleb
Fucking virus.
I have read reports and seen the videos, and know it is just a matter of time before it gets to the States. The way those guys are handling it over there, and the way we are handling it over here, all of it is a fucking nightmare. But whining about it will not help. Action will.
And so I acted.
In six months I know for a fact that everything on the ground will be different. The way I did business will not be the same as I currently did, and I needed to adapt. It would be painful, and I needed the right kind of people to work with me to gear up for the coming storm. With that in mind, I had asked Marge, my soon-to-retire secretary, to pull up a random position for an assistant. It would be a journey I knew for a fact she could not handle, and even though we had worked together for over five years, I felt it best to give her the golden handshake and let her go back to her grand kids in Yorkshire.
And so the ad went up. I did not realize how fast the responses would come. Over four hundred, to be precise. But only one could win. And one did.
Her profile was simplistic. I was surprised that she would even consider applying, given the lack of experience in my field of entrepreneurial expertise. She’d hopped from job to job, but every single one contacted had raved about her performance. One thing was clear, she had grit. I live on grit. I eat grit for breakfast.
Then again, I had not seen her in person.
When Harlee Sawyer had walked through my doors at 8 AM on the sunniest day of the month, she was just about to find me explode from the temples. The business deal with the farmers was sinking and there was no way to salvage it through proxy.
I did not need to interview. I did not need a fresh face to judge my own. But when I asked her questions with my shitty Thursday morning mood, and she responded with what I needed.
What Harlee could not see, what she is yet to figure out, was how hard her presence made me. Her tight skirt and fluffy sweater. Her long legs and sweet-smelling wrists. The glimpse of her thighs, tight, creamy thighs that were made for thick hands, hands like my own.
I asked her questions. She answered them with pride. Her voice was silky, and it was just as I imagined her soft skin.
Under the table it took all my will not to take her, walk to the other side of this fucking desk, pluck her from her chair and bend her over the edge of it. I desperately wanted to strip her bare and plunge into her mysterious depths. I wanted to know her like a panther would its prey; intimately.
But I left myself wanting. I watched how she looked down at her thighs whenever I spoke, how she touched the top of her right knee when responding, and how she licked her bottom lip so quickly I would have missed it if I blinked. I observed how gracefully she stood up and shook my hand, and how she either didn’t notice or didn’t judge me for pushing my left hand deep into my pockets to secretly restrain the throbbing beast begging for a taste of her.
I was a little forthcoming with the whole ‘sir’ thing, admittedly. It was blunt, and maybe a step too far, but I couldn’t resist. Honestly, that was the most truth I have told anyone in months.
Time would tell where this thing with this girl would lead, and all I could hope was that I didn’t have to wait long.
