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In front of me is a white, semi-circular desk with the TBA logo emblazoned on the front, and behind it there’s a woman wearing a pale gray blouse and a smile, her dark hair cut short around her pretty face.
“Hello. How can I help?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Bennett.”
“Miss Hopkins? Is that you?” I turn at the sound of my name and see Miles Hampton approaching from the elevators on my right. He’s around six feet tall, or maybe a little less, and while he might be wearing a button-down shirt, he’s also got on a pair of dark blue jeans. I’m surprised by how informally he’s dressed, but I plaster on a smile, taking the hand he’s holding toward me.
“Miles…?” I turn around again, as the lady behind the desk calls his name. “Would you like me to let Doreen know Mr. Bennett’s appointment is here?” She nods her head in my direction, with a smile, which I return.
“No, thanks, Miranda. We’ll just go on up.”
She frowns now, but shrugs her shoulders, and Miles puts his hand in the small of my back, spinning me around again, to face the elevators. Even as we start to walk, he keeps his hand where it is, and although I feel uncomfortable, I’m not sure what to do. I certainly don’t want to make a fuss, or be accused of misunderstanding his actions… not after what happened during our video call.
Fortunately, the elevator doors open almost immediately, and I take the opportunity of stepping away from him, and once inside, I move over to the side wall and keep my back against it. He follows me, standing opposite, and once he’s pressed the button for the top floor, he gazes at me, tilting his head slightly to the right.
“It’s good to see you again,” he says, and I smile, unsure how to reply as his eyes rake up and down my body, making me feel even more uneasy. “Do you always dress like this?”
“For work… yes.”
He raises his eyebrows, smiling. “And for a date?”
I feel myself blush. “That depends on the date, I suppose. But generally, no, I wouldn’t wear a suit.”
I wish he’d leave me alone, but it’s quite difficult in such a confined space, and I almost sag with relief when the doors open.
I step out to be faced with the head of a staircase immediately opposite, and the option to turn either left or right. Rather than just saying which way I should go, Miles once again places his arm around me and steers me to the right.
“All the executive offices are up here,” he says. “Including mine.”
“Oh?” I’m not sure why I should be interested in where his office is, unless he’s trying to brag that he’s one of the ‘executives’.
We turn a corner, making our way down a shorter corridor, until we come to the end. The door in front of us is open and Miles waits, letting me pass through ahead of him, although he follows close behind.
Inside, there’s a desk in front of the window which overlooks the city, and behind the desk is a lady who glances up, frowns, and gets to her feet. She’s probably in her early-fifties, with neat blonde hair, tied up in a bun behind her head and as she steps out from her desk, I can see she’s wearing a skirt and blouse, which are smart, but not as formal as my outfit. Her shoes are more sensible, too.
“This is Miss Hopkins,” Miles says, and the woman glances at him. I could swear she narrows her eyes, but it’s only for a moment before she looks back at me with a smile.
“I’m Doreen,” she says, with a gentle voice. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known you were here, I would have come down to greet you myself.” She turns her attention back to Miles again, and this time there’s an unmistakable hardening of her features. “I’m sure you’ve got things you need to be doing, Miles?”
He hesitates for a moment, but then backs up toward the door. “I’ll see you later,” he says, not taking his eyes from me.
I’m not sure he will, but it seems wise to be polite. “Thank you for bringing me up here.” He smiles and ducks out of the room, and I turn back to Doreen. “The lady downstairs offered to call you,” I say, and she rolls her eyes.
“I’m sure she did. Miranda’s very efficient. It’s Miles who’s nothing but trouble.” I stifle a half-laugh. She joins in and I feel a tingle over my skin. It’s an odd sensation, and by no means unpleasant. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. I feel like I belong here, even though I’ve never been here before. “I’ll show you in,” she says, moving toward a doorway in the corner of the room. The door itself isn’t closed and I follow, waiting while she announces me as ‘Miss Hopkins’, and then I enter.
The room is large, taking up a significant corner of the building, with windows on two walls. The furniture is modern, comprising an enormous desk, roughly in the center of the room, and over on the far side, two long, black leather couches, with a low, glass coffee table between them.
There’s a man sitting behind the desk, and the moment he gets to his feet, everything stops.
What was I thinking?
Who was I kidding?
This is no teddy bear.
He’s no grizzly, either. At least, I don’t think he is. But there’s no getting away from it, the man before me exudes power.
That could be because of his build, I suppose. He’s around six foot four, with broad shoulders, his white shirt fitting closely to his muscular arms and chest, just like his jeans hug his thighs.
