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Jocelin
Somethinghitsmesquarein the forehead, then drops to the ground with a metallic tinkling. I jolt to a stop and look around, spying a paperclip on the floor near the reception desk. “Jocelin!” Bethany, my admin, whisper-shouts at me, wide-eyed and gesturing with her head toward my cubicle. “Victoria. Two o’clock.”
Merde. I glance around for somewhere to avoid her, wondering if the elevator I just exited is still waiting on our floor. If I push the call button, will the doors open immediately? I could step in and escape back upstairs to Hibernian Press. Before I can even move in that direction, I hear the clicking of stiletto heels on the marble tiles and the snapping of fingers. Victoria Knobb rounds the corner and points at Bethany. “You. Betty.”
Bethany valiantly refrains from rolling her eyes. “It’s Bethany, Ms. Knobb.”
Victoria dismisses her with a wave of her hand. “Whatever. Where is my nephew?”
I glance at my admin, who is clutching her pen so tightly her knuckles are white. “I don’t know, ma’am. I haven’t seen him yet today.”
Lacking Bethany’s restraint, Victoria rolls her eyes in disgust. “Useless. Find him and tell him to meet me in my office.” I’m about to tell Victoria that my assistant has other responsibilities which require her attention, but I’m stopped by what she says next. “We need to go over the Hibernian Press contracts.”
She now has my full attention. Hibernian Press ismyclient, and there’s absolutely no reason her nephew, Victor, should have to see the contracts. She turns her glare in my direction. “Jocelin, if you’re done chit-chatting with your buddies upstairs, I need the contracts for Hibernian Press and the new imprint.”
Gritting my teeth, I force a smile for my least favorite partner in the company. “Ms. Knobb, I’m sure Alistair—“
“I’ll cover this with Alistair. Victor will be taking over the new imprint as his client.”
A punch to my gut would have been less surprising, though I’d probably feel just as sick. Victor Knobb, Victoria’s nephew and namesake, came to work here about seven months ago, right out of law school. While everyone at the firm is aware he got the job through nepotism, in our professional interactions he’s been competent enough, if a little green. But it doesn’t give him the skill set to handle a client like Hibernian Press. Faking more composure than I feel, I meet Victoria’s eyes and frown. “Alistair didn’t mention that.” Alistair Trumble is one of three partners at Trumble, Santori, and Knobb, and I report to him. Not Victoria. And as far as I know, he didn’t authorize this transfer of accounts.
She crosses her arms and glares at me. “I’ll be speaking with him this afternoon. You already have so much on your plate, and Victor needs more high-profile accounts.”
Victor needs nothing of the sort. And under no circumstances am I letting him anywhere near the Hibernian Press imprint. Blake McCarthy isn’t just the owner of Hibernian Press, he’s a good friend, and I’m not putting his account in the hands of a green lawyer. Victoria waves at the papers I’m holding. “Are those the contracts? Here, I’ll take them.” She extends her hand, her red talon-like nails slicing through the air in a ‘gimme’ motion.
Hearing the ding of the elevator, I step back instinctively, a wild plan forming in my mind. Before I second guess myself, I spin around to escape with my contracts and plow into a wall that shouldn’t be there. I bounce back, slightly dazed, and strong hands shoot out to grip my biceps, steadying me. “Whoa. Sorry. Are you alright?”
I blink at an expanse of black fabric stretched over a deliciously well-muscled chest. Slowly, so as not to miss an inch, I drag my eyes up… and up. And then blink again as I stare into a strangely familiar face. “Um, yes. Sorry.”
A handsome man with a dark brown, tousled quiff and rakishly shaggy facial hair grins down at me, and the feeling I know him tickles my brain again. “Oh, it was completely my fault. I’m a bit lost. In fact, I’m not even sure this is the right floor. I’m looking for Hibernian Press. When the elevator doors opened, I just strolled out. I should have double-checked.”
And that’s when it hits me like a sledgehammer. I know who this is, and I’m embarrassed his bright blue eyes didn’t give it away sooner. “It’s two floors up. You almost made it.”
His lips twist into a wry grin. “Story of my life.”
“You’re Gunnar, right? Astrid’s brother?” Astrid Osouf, my very best friend, is an editor at Hibernian Press. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Gunnar, and I certainly don’t remember him being this ridiculously attractive, but there’s no mistaking those eyes. Or that height. Or those muscles. “I’m—”
“Jocelin.” He winks at me. “The accent gave it away. It’s been a while.”
I nod, about to offer him an escort upstairs, when Victoria’s voice cuts in, reminding me why I ran into Gunnar in the first place. “Jocelin.” We both turn to look at her. “When you’re finished with your little tête-à-tête, bring the contracts to my office. I have more important things to do than stand around here all day while you flirt.”
She doesn’t wait for my reply, spinning around to march to her office. When the door shuts with a thud, I finally relax and turn back to Gunnar. “Sorry. She’s a bit intense.”
The scowl he aims at her office door is intimidating and unearths half-remembered stories of explosive tirades and fistfights between the Osouf brothers. But when Gunnar turns back to me, the anger fades and his expression clears. He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m interrupting whatever you were doing.” His bright blue gaze has my body tingling and my heart thumping in my chest. Then I remind myself who this is. He’s my best friend’s brother. Not that I think Astrid would mind. She’d definitely tease both of us mercilessly, and I suppose it would be her due. But do I really want to be that person?
I do a little mental shake. Look at me getting ahead of myself. I’ve barely said twenty words to the guy, and I’ve slotted us into a potential relationship. Surely that’s a sign of how shaken I am by Victoria’s demand. It’s also an indication I’ve been out of the dating game too long. Work has taken up most of my focus. I need to get out and socialize. Which is more and more difficult now that my entire friend group has paired up. Nothing like being the only single person in a group of seven. Not that any of them intentionally make me feel like a fifth wheel. And I don’t begrudge my friends the happiness they’ve found. It’s just hell to go out and be the only one still looking. So I don’t.
I sigh and smile at Gunnar, straightening my tie and running a quick hand through my hair. “You are a welcome interruption.” That makes his smile grow even bigger, and shit, it does crazy things to my insides. “Hopefully, your exit from the elevator there will be less eventful.”
Eyes sparkling, he backs up a few steps before turning to the elevators, pressing the call button. “I don’t know.” He shrugs, making his shoulders bunch up distractingly. “I kind of like how this worked out.” When the doors open, he turns back to me. “It was good to see you again, Jocelin.” He backs into the elevator, and as the doors close, I give a little wave. He chuckles and then he’s gone.
Before I head to my cubicle, I make a quick stop at Bethany’s desk. “Hey, thanks for the attempted assist earlier. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Bethany grins. “No problem. We peons have to stick together.” She gestures toward the elevators. “He’s hot.”
I nod. “Yes. He most certainly is.” But I should not be drooling over Astrid’s brother at all, so a subject change is in order. “Are you going to Gary Atkinson’s book launch and signing tonight?”
