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“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to meet you, Sir,” Sandra continued, batting her eyes at the man. “It’s such a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Again, so sorry. I’m Sandra Hitchcock, Mr. Callahan’s personal assistant.”
She shook his hand, stars now falling from her eyes, but at every opportunity she got, she made sure to glare at Kensley and Marcy with her eyes as weapons ready to scorch them down to ashes as if they weren’t supposed to be where they were right at that minute. That was signature-Sandra Hitchcock. She couldn’t stand either of them, but Kensley more so.
Wait. Did she say... McLeod? Hunter McLeod?
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
But shouldn't he be much older? They had expected a sexagenarian, at least, since there was nothing about the elusive owner they could find online.
Kensley rarely swore, but this one deserved a gosh-frigging medley of neon thunderfuckeries in all shapes and sizes.
She turned to Sandra, with her honed body of a young gymnast, which made aging her so hard to do, and hoped the woman had mistaken the man for someone else.
Sandra instead let out an exasperated sigh before turning her gaze on them. “This is Marcy Jensen, High Cloud’s events coordinator.” Marcy couldn’t help a giggle slipping out of her mouth as he offered her his hand, which she shyly took.
Good god.
“And this is our little junior public relations officer, Kensley Reid,” Sandra said with a sneer. Kensley had no idea what she had done to the woman to warrant such disdain from her. “She does all the menial tasks like, spell check for what we send out to the press and such. She reports to Heralda Dawson, who is currently on maternity leave and will be back next week.”
First of all, Heralda was—
“Ms. Reid.” His words sounded like a caress from his mouth to her clit. He offered her his hand. She had half a mind to just ignore him. But her grandparents hadn’t raised her that way.
She placed her hand in his. Singed, charred, and burnt. He electrified the crap out of her nerves with his touch and weakened her knees. Her knees had never weakened for anyone ever in all her life.
She snatched her hand away after just a moment as a new realization hit.
75% of the current occupants in her vicinity had knowledge about her ‘down there’ situation. And one of them was now her new big boss and the new owner of the company she loved.
“This way, Mr. McLeod,” Sandra said, dismissing her and Marcy. “The rest of the staff are eagerly awaiting your arrival in the boardroom.”
Kensley turned to Marcy, who was still clearly entranced.
“What did I just see?” Marcy whispered.
“I think he overheard our conversation,” Kensley said, pacing the small expanse of her office.
“He looks like some mythical sex god from another world. I wanted to fall to my knees and kiss his shoes, Kens. How can one man be so fucking sexy?” Marcy finished in a feverish huff, fanning herself.
“Marcy, I think he overheard us talking.”
“What?” The dazed look in her friend’s eyes hadn't evaporated yet.
“Never mind.” Kensley sighed inwardly. That was so not the impression she wanted to leave on the new boss. Not when her job was probably on the line. And if it wasn’t before, it surely must be now. Who wanted a virgin freak working in their public relations office?
She wanted nothing more than to go back in time and undo everything that had happened in the last five minutes. It was the worst thing ever.
“We better go back to the boardroom,” she said, straightening her shoulders and smoothing her hair. She was nothing if not practical.
Except when she saw him again, her world came crashing down all around her all over again. She wished so hard she could dissolve into the furniture, and since that wasn’t possible, she did her damndest to try and hide behind Marcy. She barely heard Ellis’ speech but was fully aware of how everyone at High Cloud, young and old, man, and woman, gaped at their new boss, Hunter McLeod. Sandra couldn’t stop fussing over him either, and Ellis couldn’t stop smiling.
The new boss said nothing to the room as a whole, but he did take the time to have personal conversations with everyone he was introduced to.
This was it. She now had to find a new job... after doing nothing but worrying about keeping her job here at High Cloud. Or she could just pretend he knew nothing about her... even if he did. It wasn't as if he would come out and ask her straight up, ‘I heard you were a virgin; what's up with that?’ right?
Why on earth would he do something like that in the first place? He was a multibillionaire; he was just too busy making money to be interested in her little piece of unsold real estate.
God, since when did she start thinking in bad metaphors? That was Marcy’s gig, not hers.
