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“Just as Damon is mine.” When she frowned at him, he shrugged. “Edward Charles Damon Bradford.”
“Middle name,” she grumbled. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
“I enjoyed being anonymous. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t know who I am, what I do and the estimated number of zeroes in my bank account.”
“Rather presumptuous to think I’d be dazzled by four names and a fancy office.”
He couldn’t help himself. He grinned. “Most people are impressed when they learn who I am and what I do.”
“I’m not most people, am I?”
“No,” he said, suddenly serious. “You’re not.”
She blinked, some of her bravado slipping as she looked at him with an almost confused expression on her face. Her gaze slid away from his. Silence descended, along with the pressing weight of what he had to do next.
But before they dealt with the uncomfortable business of having her reassigned, he held out his hand. “The tablet, please, and your notes.”
She handed over the leather folio. He opened the folder and leaned back, his eyes scanning the screen. The more he read, the more a headache started to pound at his temples. It was easy to see why the temp agency Laura had contacted had recommended Evolet.
She was good. She was very, very good. Not only had she taken detailed notes, she’d also kept a separate column where she’d transcribed some of the conversations taking place around the table while Thad had monologued at Damon.
“Brigid LaRue is considering quitting Titan Manufacturing?”
“She is.” Evolet’s lips twitched. “Mr. Williams has little interest, or respect, for her ideas.”
His mind conjured up an image of Titan’s head of marketing, a svelte woman whose olive green suit had complemented her brown skin and black hair braided into a thick bun. She’d been polite yet assertive, managing to slide in a couple pitches between Thad’s rants that, even though Damon had no interest in a partnership with Titan, had been impressive.
“How did you hear all this?”
She shrugged. “Many people don’t think of executive assistants. And when they do, it’s because they need a cup of coffee or a new pen. They talk around us like we’re not even there.”
Damon frowned. “Then you’ve been working for the wrong people.”
Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t my career, Mr. Bradford. It pays the bills until I join a professional orchestra.”
“You’re very good at it.”
“And you’re good at dancing, but I assume you’re not pursuing professional ballroom dancing anytime soon.” Her smile took the sting out of her words. “I like what I do for NYC Executives. I like the details, the organization, the dependability.” She hesitated on the last word, as if she’d revealed more than she had wanted, but continued. “I’m fortunate that I have something I like while I pursue what I love.”
He regarded her for a moment with a thoughtful stare before glancing down at the document Julie had printed for him that morning—Evolet’s résumé from the agency, which included relevant positions she’d held. He’d been both relieved and energized by her experience given that he had been depending on Louise still being here through the submission of the final proposal to Royal Air. He’d reviewed the résumé before the meeting with Titan, before he’d known Evolet Grey was the same woman whose lips he had plundered and body he had claimed without a single article of clothing shed.
His gaze slid back up to her. He steeled his body against the initial rush of desire, battled it back with reason and the knowledge that it would be very hard to find someone of Evolet’s capabilities and knowledge. Not in time for the next stage of the Royal Air contract.
She was beautiful. She was intriguing. But she was a temporary existence in his life. Nothing mattered more than Bradford Global and seeing the company succeed. He could contain his libido for the duration of Evolet’s contract. His fascination with her would fade with time and doing what he did best—throwing himself into work. It had been the cure for more than one emotional ailment in the past. It would work again.
The white of her blouse made her blush all the more noticeable as it crept up her neck.
“Well...” She cleared her throat. “On that note, I will notify the agency that this won’t work and I—”
“Why won’t it?”
Her eyes widened to an almost comical size, large and gold, emotions flashing through them without concealment or artifice.
“Did your agency brief you on the project Bradford Global is bidding on?”
Suspicion lingered on her face, but she nodded. “Royal Air. They’re adding to their fleet and need a reputable manufacturer who can produce planes under a tight deadline.”
Damon nodded, pleased. “Bradford Global is one of the three companies in the final running for the contract.”
