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Lexi
Ihave always loved New York. There is something so comforting about the huge skyscrapers that surround you like a concrete blanket. The hustle and bustle of the streets shows people are living their best lives and here, on Wall Street, the wealth almost chokes me. The finest shops lead up to the seat of power in the business world. Fortunes are made and broken within these walls and many men end their lives after a deal gone wrong, or celebrate by taking exotic vacations and living a lifestyle the rest of us only dare dream about.
The New York Stock Exchange is the place I’m heading and I feel excited about that. I have always wanted to see inside a building I have only heard about and thinking of the man I’ve come to see increases my curiosity still further. Hunter Blake—genius with money, financial maestro and the envy of every banker out there. I googled the hell out of him and was pleasantly surprised. To say he is the most desirable kind of eye candy is a very bold understatement because this man is impressive in every aspect of life, minus one. His personality.
I read with increasing displeasure about his short temper, biting sarcasm and impertinence. Men like that sicken me because surely it’s not too much to ask to be nice to a fellow human and not for the first time I wonder if this was such a good idea. I know we will clash terribly and I’m liable to knock him out physically most nights just to get a few moments away from him.
Smoothing down my dress, I stare up at the place he calls home and wonder what he makes of all this. His girlfriend, well that’s the first joke of the day because I’m not strictly girlfriend material.
Thinking on my last venture with the opposite sex, I feel a shred of regret for the way it ended. Mason wasn’t for me. He thought we could be happy, but he doesn’t know what I do for a living. He thought I baked cakes in my friend’s shop in Canada and was the type of wholesome American girl who would be content with marriage, babies and the odd visit to the local bar on date night. If only he knew.
It was good while it lasted, but got old way too quickly. So, I headed home, back to killing for a living and now I’m here. New York. Hopefully I’ll get away without killing anyone this time, but corpses tend to follow my footsteps, so I’m not holding out much hope on that.
Wondering what the elusive Mr. Blake will think of me, I push through the revolving door into a place that takes my breath away.
I can almost taste the history of this building. The marble pillared walls and stench of wealth, fills my mind with desperation—to succeed. Success is a vital ingredient for surviving in this place and I wonder if I will pass the grade. Will I succeed in keeping the top man safe, or will it become my ultimate failure?
I head toward the huge desk and the receptionist looks at me with interest. “Lexi Mackenzie to see Hunter Blake.”
I smile sweetly, and she looks a little surprised. Probably because I am nothing like the people that surround me. I chose to wear a flower print summer dress and white sling back sandals. My blonde hair is dusting my shoulders and curls up at the ends and if anything, I look like a kindergarten teacher and completely out of place in this corporate palace.
I watch as she studies her screen and then nods and arranges my security pass. Once I’ve completed all their procedures, she shows me to a waiting area. “Someone will come for you, please wait here.”
“Thank you.” I beam a huge smile in her direction, which seems to shock her a little, and I’m not surprised because all around me people walk as if lost in their own private thoughts. It’s as if they have the problems of the world on their shoulders and I thank God I’m not one of them.
I must wait for close to thirty minutes which riles me a little. Great, this is all I need and probably just one in a long line of games this man plays. Rather than let it bother me, I sit and stalk him on social media. The fact he has no private account doesn’t surprise me but there are so many pictures and comments about him it makes for interesting reading. I am particularly interested in the last photograph of him taken just last night where he is pictured on the arm of a stunning woman, Amber Dominguez. I study her a little more and note she is his standard issue companion. Wealthy, beautiful and dripping in ambition. There is absolutely nothing real about these people at all, and yet as I stare into the enigmatic eyes of the man I’m about to meet, something in them brings out the worst in me.
He stares at the camera as if he sees you. There’s an arrogance in those eyes that says you’re just not worthy to even look at his image. His eyes draw you in and the strong jawline covered in a hint of stubble calls to the most basic instinct inside a woman’s soul. It’s not unusual for me to be among such men, hell I live with them, but something about Hunter Blake leaves me feeling violated and I just pray to God he is nothing like his image portrays.
“Excuse me, Miss. Mackenzie?”
I’m ripped from my stalking to stare up at a woman who exudes efficiency. From her smart business suit and pulled back hair, this woman demands respect just from her direct gaze and authoritative air.
She holds out her hand. “Miss Baxter, Mr. Hunter’s personal assistant. Please follow me.”
Her grip is hard, much like the woman herself, and I’m guessing she needs to be this way because all of my digging on her boss is shaping up to a very unattractive image. I fall into step beside her and note the reverence on the other worker’s faces as she breezes past, not deigning them with a glance in their direction as she leads me purposefully toward an elevator in the corner of the immense reception.
Despite the fact there’s a line forming at the bank of several others surrounding it, this one appears to be only for us and it stands waiting patiently, the door open and yet nobody is inclined to step inside.
My hatred of this man deepens as the door closes and I note this elevator is hospital clean with floor to ceiling mirrors. It’s a little unnerving actually seeing my reflection staring back at me, looking completely out of place and I look up and see the camera probably watching my every move. Is he watching? Possibly, I certainly would, so just in case, I raise my hand to my hair and flip him the middle finger as I smile sweetly into the camera. Miss Baxter is oblivious to this childish act of rebellion and yet it gives me a moment of satisfaction, anyway.
This woman appears to be made of stone, so I say loudly, “So, tell me, Miss. Baxter, what’s the big man like? I mean, I’ve heard so much shit about him I’m surprised he can face himself in these mirrors every morning.”
Miss. Baxter looks horrified and doesn’t appear to have a reply in her and I smirk to myself. I guess she’s not used to this type of conversation, and I lower my voice a little. “It’s ok, you can tell me. I’m not here to be his best friend, anyway. What’s the gossip? I’m guessing there’s a Netflix mini-series of juicy bits you can’t wait to share.”
I bask in her disapproval as she straightens up and says blankly, “Mr. Hunter is a very good boss and an amazing man. That is all you need to know.”
My eyes flick to the camera and I stare straight at it and roll my eyes, before saying, “Stick to the story if you like, Miss. Baxter but we both know otherwise.”
Feeling a little sorry for the now extremely uncomfortable assistant, I change direction.
“So, how long have you worked here?”
“Ten years.”
Her answers are blunt and to the point, limiting her words to the question asked. I’m guessing that’s something that has kept her in employment and I’m impressed.
“Does he have many visitors?”
She turns and shakes her head slightly. “I’m sorry, Miss. Mackenzie, but any questions you have regarding Mr. Blake will have to be directed to him. It’s not my business to gossip about my boss.”
Once again, I’m impressed but vow to drag the gossip out of Miss. Baxter if it kills me, because if anyone around here knows this man, it’s the woman who has been by his side for the past ten years.
Luckily, for her, anyway, the elevator reaches the top floor, which adds one more reason on my list to hate this guy. Private elevator, security camera and now this, ruling his kingdom while locked away in an ivory tower, only leaving to date plastic women, all add up to a man who needs a reality check.
I’ve arrived in the nick of time. This should be fun.
