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Chapter 1
Megan
Thesoundofthebuzzing intercom never fails to scare me, distracting me from my work. Now the sentence I’d been typing has a mishmash of letters instead of a word that actually makes sense.
Sighing, I delete the error as I answer the intercom. “Yes, Mr. Evans?”
“Have you got my schedule sorted for next week, Megan? I have a few more meetings that I need to fit in somewhere.”
I stop myself from groaning out loud. My boss is probably one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met, but when it comes to organizing his time, he is atrocious. And he’s always asking me to redo the schedule after I’ve already organized it to how it should be.
But I push all that aside and force myself to sound pleasant when I respond with, “I’ll bring it in for you, sir. One moment.”
I am just about to go for lunch with Eric, too. He was going to treat me to that little bistro across the street. My stomach has been growling for a couple of hours now, and I’m looking forward to sinking my teeth into a good steak.
It’s a pity that my lunch hour will not be long enough for me to sneak home with him for a bit of intimate time before I get back to work. Mr. Evans doesn’t want me abusing my breaks. Not when it’s a busy time of year.
But the thought of getting Eric to myself later is enough to make me smile.
Picking up the iPad from my desk, I knock on my boss’ door and enter without missing a beat. Mr. Joel Evans is sitting behind his desk, looking at his laptop through wire-rimmed glasses, wearing a frown that suggests that he’s not in a good mood.
I use the moment of his distraction to take him in. I have a boyfriend, but even I can appreciate my boss’ good looks. And that is an understatement. Mr. Evans isn’t far from fifty, but he can easily grace the covers of magazines. I am sure he has in the past, as an aspiring hot billionaire; he would’ve had the photographers drooling. Over six feet of lean, solid muscle, his black hair going silver at the temples, and eyes that could have people drowning in them if they look too closely. As my friend Natalie says, totally droolworthy.
Which makes me feel a little weird, seeing as Natalie is Mr. Evan’s daughter.
Mr. Evans finally looks up, arching an eyebrow at me. “Have you finished?”
“What?” I feel like I’ve been caught out.
He quirks a brow, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. “Staring at me. You done?”
“Oh!” I laugh nervously and approach his desk. “I’m saying nothing that’ll inflate your ego, sir.”
Mr. Evans smiles, and he sits back in his chair. I wish he wouldn’t do that; it makes his shirt stretch across his flat belly, showing off the sculpted muscles underneath. I will never figure out how he has managed to make himself look this good.
Remember, you’ve got a boyfriend. Sort your head out.
“You’ve got my schedule with you?” Mr. Evans asks.
“Sure.” I hand over the iPad. “Do you need me for anything else?”
“Why? Are you looking for some more work?” Mr. Evans gives me a bemused smile. “Am I not working you hard enough?”
“Eric’s coming to take me to lunch any minute now,” I say, trying to hide how uncomfortable I’m feeling. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
It’s weird talking about my boyfriend to my boss, of all people.
“Ah. I see,” Mr. Evans grunts. He waves me toward the door. “Off you go, then. I’ll deal with this on my own.”
“Thank you, sir,” I breathe a sigh of relief.
I fight back the urge to tell him not to change everything around too much. There are some meetings that can’t be moved, and I know what Mr. Evans is like. He will just move everything around like it’s a game of Tetris. Then I’ll have to redo everything later.
Well, I’m on my lunch break now, and I can hear voices in my office. So it’s officially not my problem for another hour.
“Do you want me to order you lunch before I go, Mr. Evans?” I ask as I head toward the door.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll order in.” He doesn’t look up from the iPad, his frown deepening as he taps at the screen. “You go and enjoy your lunch date.”
