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I frown. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"
9
JJ
"You could start by being a little more polite toward me. I do pay your salary."
"Like I could forget," she mutters under her breath.
"What was that?" I scowl.
She clears her throat. "I meant, is there anything I can help you with?" She smiles sweetly.
"Anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible liar?"
She grimaces. "Something you need my help with? Else..." She turns back to her computer.
"Lunch." I rise to my feet, then walk around the desk. "I have a lunch meeting with some of the partners of 7A Investments and I need you there."
"Okay." She trails me as I head for the exit. I hold the door open for her, and she breezes past. The scent of strawberries and passionfruit singed with something spicy fills my senses. I’m instantly erect. Goddamn. Somehow, I’ve managed to keep my attention off of her and focused on my work thus far. I almost changed my mind about having her seated in my room, but convinced myself that I could hold out against her appeal. Now, I wonder if I made a mistake.
Of course, I had intended for whoever was my EA to work out of the same room as me, and I wasn’t lying when I said it was for the sake of convenience. I’d hoped it would be my son and that I could use the time to repair my relationship with him. Now I know what a bad idea that was. It would have been even worse to have Isaac seated where she’s been and glowering at me. We couldn’t have gone ten minutes without disagreeing on things, forget an hour.
And with her? I’m not sure I can ignore how her presence lights up the space or just how aware I am of her every move—of how she squirms around in her seat trying to get comfortable, how she sighs when she’s focused on reading something, how she ties her hair up with a hair restraint when she wants it out of the way, then stabs a pencil through the mass of hair when she’s trying to figure out a problem. Yeah, you see what’s happening here? I ended up studying her more than reading my documents over the past hour. I tried and failed to keep my attention off of her, so sue me. Following her out, I raise my hand when my other assistant tries to tell me something.
"Not now," I mutter in her general direction, then follow the vixen who’s walking forward with that twitch to her hips that’s guaranteed to drive me crazy. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have her take on this role? Maybe I should have simply allowed her and Isaac to move into the house and asked them to keep their distance from me. But that’s not me. I don’t just give people what they want without getting something in return. I’m too hardwired to not strike a deal when I see an opportunity.
No, this is the best way forward. This way, I have Isaac doing what he loves, while still under the umbrella of my company, and I have his girlfriend—and I need to keep reminding myself of that—filling in for him while getting much-needed experience out of it. No, I simply need to keep my perspective and my distance from her. And I can do that much, can’t I? After all, I’ve negotiated mergers, and I struck a deal with theBratvaand theCosa Nostrato launch my most successful company in Trinity Enterprises. I even managed to lock down a meeting with the notoriously reticent owners of 7A Financial Services. It’s going to my biggest coup to date when I get them on board for my newest enterprise. And I need my executive assistant in on the details. It’s the only way to ensure that I stay on top of her—I mean on top of day-to-day decisions.
With the proliferation of my business interests, even I have to admit that I can’t be in two meetings at the same time—imagine that—and I need to delegate. Hence, the creation of the position of my Executive Assistant. The position really is more of my Chief-of-Staff, as I mentioned to her, but I’ll hold back the title until she proves herself, starting with the meeting we’re headed for now.
I join her as the lift to my private elevator arrives. She steps in, I follow and punch the button for the lobby level. The silence stretches as the numbers count down on the indicator. That’s when her stomach rumbles.
She gasps, them murmurs, "Sorry."
"You’re hungry, I take it?"
"I didn’t have breakfast because someone was in too much of a hurry."
I shoot her a sideways glance and find her watching the indicators with a look of complete focus.
"Make sure you are ready by 6.30 a.m. tomorrow," I retort.
She winces. "Don’t you ever sleep?"
"Sleep is for losers." I scoff.
She shakes her head. "You do realize Gordon Gekko went out of fashion in the nineties, andTheWolf of Wall Streetis considered in bad taste by those of our generation."
I shoot her a sideways glance when my phone buzzes. I pull it out of my pocket, then listen to the head of my US office tell me why it’s a bad idea to expand into financial services. I interrupt him halfway through the conversation, "Winnie, the difference between you and me is that I have the long game in my sights, while you’re not able to draw the most obvious conclusion from what is right in front of your nose."
I disconnect before he can respond. The indicator dings and I indicate for her to precede me.
"Do you talk like that to all your employees?"
"Like what?" We exit through my private entrance to one side of the lobby as Leo brings my car around.
"Like you don’t give a damn about retaining them."
