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A few of the women began to twitter amongst themselves when the tall, handsome man appeared before them.
Suzy Smiley must have been a cheerleader in high school, Valentina reviled silently. The blonde woman practically leapt into backflips over Daniels. It was ridiculous, and she was making a spectacle of herself. The man was not a god or a king. Yes, he was as tall as Apollo and as muscular as Zeus, Valentina thought, and yes, his eyes were as green as emeralds. But he was just a normal man who put his pants on one leg at a time, not some sort of Adonis.
Well, that was what Susan got paid for, Valentina reminded herself, to make the men think they were gods.
It was a skill Valentina had never been very adept at.
“That Mr. Daniels sure is good-looking.” Sylvia nudged Valentina with her elbow. “He’s a real hunk. If I were thirty years younger, I’d let him fill my wash basket.”
Valentina couldn’t help but chuckle at Sylvia’s inappropriate comment. The woman was a riot. Who said things like that anymore?
Still chuckling quietly, Valentina’s eyes met Daniels’s. The smile fell off her lips. She abhorred him, and she’d be damned if she would let him think she was smiling at him.
The suave Yale man had actually come in quite unobtrusively and grinned affably at the eager occupants. Then suddenly, his eyes turned cold malachite as they locked on Valentina.
Her heart leapt into her throat as she was overwhelmed with a combination of hatred and…something else. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge. She stared right back at him, determined this time to face him down, but after just a few moments she was compelled to look down at her feet. When she glanced back up he was back to his usual faux-charming ways, and Valentina mentally kicked herself for letting him get to her again. As she watched various female colleagues fawn over him, she was resolved about one thing; she wasn’t going to cluck around at his feet like the other hens.
In fact, she had no plans to give him the time of day.
Ever.
“Ladies and gentleman, I apologize for my tardiness,” he said sincerely. “I spend every Monday morning at the children’s hospital…”
Of course, he does,Valentina thought.
“…and the time got away from me,” he went on.
Mr. Perfect.
* * *
The remainder of the morning orientation was uneventful. Valentina ate lunch with Sylvia in the chic café in one of the myriad Michigan Avenue hotels. She knew the fashionable restaurant was out of the woman’s budget, so she made an excuse to pay for the proud lady’s meal.
“I can’t take your money, sweetie,” Sylvia protested. “I’ll just have an iced tea. I never eat lunch.”
“My mother gave me a check to celebrate my first day,” Valentina said in truth.
“Well, I certainly can’t take your mother’s money.”
Valentina knew her mother made more in a day than Sylvia made in a month, but she would never tell the woman that.
“Mom gave me strict orders to make a new friend and take them to lunch,” she fibbed. “She’ll be very upset if I tell her I ate lunch alone.”
“Alright, then. But just a sandwich,” Sylvia insisted.
In the end, Valentina convinced her to have a steak sandwich with potatoes and a Caesar salad with French onion soup. She took the leftovers and some sesame seed rolls home in a doggie bag for her husband.
Back at the office, Susan from human resources was waiting for Valentina in the hallway near the training room.
“Mr. Simson would like to see you,” she said. She gave her directions to Richard Simson’s office on one of the top floors. “Take your briefcase, you won’t be coming back.”
Valentina nibbled her lip, but she wasn’t worried. She’d already worked there three months; it only made sense that she’d skip over parts of the orientation. She took her attaché case and her umbrella and jetted towards the elevator.
Damnit! There he was.
Dove-grey eyes clashed with jade as Valentina approached the open elevator door. She reduced her speed blatantly and almost came to a complete halt. There was no way in hell she was getting caught in the elevator and going up sixty-five floors with Ethan Daniels! Plus, the ancient elevator was as slow as a snail. She didn’t care if she had to pretend to twist an ankle or turn tail and fly straight into the ladies’ room. She would even climb all sixty-five flights of stairs in six-inch heels—but she would not spend a minute of her time alone with him.
Daniels flashed a sneering grin and pitched forward conspicuously to hold the elevator with his copper-toned hand. He had taken off the expensive Loro Piana suit jacket and the tie that he had been wearing this morning. He stood now in a white dress shirt that had been rolled up at the sleeves.
