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Greg raises his eyebrows. “You can’t let her go, even for a week?”
“Absolutely not.” Mr. Leblanc’s smiling again, but there’s a danger in it now. “I couldn’t do anything without a good secretary. Nobody has been better than Bristol.”
Greg’s eyes dart between the two of us. “I hope you give this woman enough paid vacation.”
“Nope,” he says smoothly, which is accurate. Due to the nature of temp work, there are no benefits. No paid vacation, that’s for sure. Even if I had the money to go anywhere.
“I’msureI’ll go,” I cut in, challenging Mr. Leblanc with a smile. “Eventually.”
He looks back at me. “You’re right. You have options.”
The smile he gives me makes me hot head to toe.Optionssounds filthy coming from him. He can’t possibly mean anything by it other than fucking in the office. He doesn’t mean we should take a vacation together.
Though I would love to see him in swimwear.
Or less than swimwear.
“You could take a work trip,” Mitchell suggests. “Work poolside. Started doing that years ago.”
“I can work on a tropical beach.” Mr. Leblanc’s still looking at me. Emotions glint in his blue-green eyes, one after the other. They’re gone before I can name them. “The shareholders would probably be glad if I took a week to go email-only. They’d consider it a gift.”
“Every CEO needs time to relax.” Greg is sage about this. Knowing. I almost laugh out loud. CEOs don’t need additional vacations. It’s everybody who works for them who needs more time off.
At least, that’s what I usually think. Mr. Leblanc’s different. Bound up tight. Always tense. He always looks like he’s ready to break into a run, or a fight, and the only thing containing his energy is his thousand-dollar suit. Maybe hedoesneed a break.
“I wouldn’t know,” Mr. Leblanc says, and the other men laugh.
We finish eating dinner and sit with espressos and coffee as the evening winds down.
There’s a rustling from behind me.
The men’s attention is drawn.
Greg smiles wide in a fawning way. Mitchell looks grim, as if he’s facing some dark task. And Mr. Leblanc looks impassive. That’s how I know that whoever is coming up behind me is important.
Veryimportant.
I turn to see a handsome man, younger than the three at the table, but somehow more powerful. It’s something in his stride. In his confident smile. This is someone who knows his place in the world is high. High enough that he can afford to be lenient with the rest of us.
“Hughes.” Greg stands up and clasps the man’s arm in an effusive shake. “So good of you to come by. Mitchell here thought you might not make it. I told him you would. This deal is important to Hughes Financial Services. A real boon for us.”
“Call me Finn.” Hughes’s voice is kind, but still authoritative. “Outside the office.”
Greg chortles, pleased with the offer. Clearly, there are different tiers ofrich. These men are powerful and wealthy in their own right. They’re important enough within the company to sign off on a billion-dollar acquisition agreement. But they’re still far below this man.
Hughes.I have a faint recollection of hearing about the Hughes family. People talk about them the same way they talk about the Vanderbilts. Phineas Hughes is the oldest son of the primary branch, the one with a playboy persona.
He doesn’t look like a playboy right now, not with his hazel eyes assessing.
Mitchell shakes his hand.
Then it’s Mr. Leblanc’s turn. They’re introduced, and Mr. Leblanc gives a respectful nod. “Hughes.”
“Leblanc,” he says. “Nice to see you again.”
The men look surprised, but Mr. Leblanc tilts his head toward Finn. “He’s engaged to my sister-in-law. Congratulations, by the way.”
Finn flashes a charming smile. “It seems your brother and I have something in common. A fascination with Morelli women.”
