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His short, honey-brown hair matches his eyes, the strands turning a mesmerizing gold when the light hits them just right.
A golden boy.
I think he might have invented the term because just the sight of him is brighter than the sun on a summer day.
I can tell that he’s tall by the way his long arms are folded across the desk and the sight of his polished shoes peeking through the bottom. His tailored, navy suit fits him perfectly, acting like a glove to showcase his lean muscles and long limbs.
“I’m sorry,” his deep, velvety voice cuts through the tension-filled air. “Who are you? An intern or something?”
An intern?What the hell?
All the butterflies suddenly leave my stomach, flying away and leaving me stranded alone.
He furrows his brows, staring at me like I’m an unidentified creature and not a human being.
I narrow my eyes at him before turning to search for Evie, only to find that she’s gone.
Dammit, Evie.
A few minutes ago I was referring to her as a ride-or-die friend and now, she’s gone. She just dipped out, leaving me in the Wild West with this beautiful man who’s staring at me like he’s contemplating calling security to come and take me away.
I straighten my shoulders, standing tall as I clear my throat.
“My name is Roxy, I’m your new assistant–”
He shakes his head furiously before rudely interrupting me.
“No…No, no, no,” he panics. “There must be a mistake.”
He looks…terrified, like the mere sight of me is causing him emotional and physical distress.
He stands from his chair, running a trembling hand through his hair before pulling a sheet of paper from the desk drawer.
He immediately starts reading, deep in thought as he drags his pointer finger across the fine print. His eyes light up as he clicks his tongue and brings his golden gaze back to me.
“Ah,” he says, pointing to something on the sheet. “See, I’m looking for Roxanne. Roxanne Taylor,” he clarifies. His voice comes out rushed and frantic.
What the hell is wrong with this dude? Did Evie bring me to the right office?
He turns the paper towards me, as if I can read the microscopic print from where I stand across his desk.
I lift my gaze, staring at him like he’s an absolute lunatic because he’s acting like one.
“IamRoxanne Taylor. But I go by Roxy,” I say firmly, holding his intimidating stare.
He opens and closes his mouth, his eyes darting between mine like he’s at a complete loss for words. Stifling tension grows between us as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, pacing back and forth behind his desk.
Jesus Christ.Somebody give this man a Xanax.
“I uh…I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I say sarcastically, breaking the awkward silence.
He stops pacing at the sound of my voice, making my heart do a little somersault.
Get it together, Roxy.This man is clearly a freak. A handsome one at that, but he’s still off his rocker.
He places his hands on his hips, gathering himself as he closes his eyes and inhales a deep breath. He shakes his head, staring blankly out of the floor-to-ceiling windows as he chews on his bottom lip.
