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“As I said, Mr. Holloway is a busy man. Are you finished looking around?”
“By all means. I’ve been ready.” Gabby gestured at the door. If anyone should be pissed, it should be her. She was early and still had to wait over twenty minutes after her appointed time.
The woman knocked on the door. A loud booming voice from inside yelled, “Come in.”
The woman pulled the door open and stepped inside. “Mr. Holloway, Ms. Stileano to see you.”
“Send her in.”
The old lady smirked at Gabby as she walked by. She wanted to slap her silly for saying her last name wrong again. She knew she did it on purpose this time. Instead, she kept the smile on her face and thought of Mia. This was all for Mia.
“Ms. Stileano, have a seat,” Mr. Holloway said from behind a huge oak desk, waving a hand at the chair in front of it. He didn’t even look up from the stack of papers lying on his desk.
Gabby tried to keep the awe out of her eyes, and her jaw from hanging open. The view behind him was spectacular. New York City was a city worth sighing over any day. But sometimes, a view as magnificent as this needed extra time to take in and breathe in deeply. They weren’t even on the top floor, but she could see the Statue of Liberty in all its glory, the sparkling water shining with elegance all around it. What a view. She would do anything to have a view like this to appreciate every day.
“Have a seat. I don’t have all day, Ms. Stileano.”
She shook her head clear of that misguided detour of beauty just to land on his face. Mia was datingthisguy. She was glad she chose a pantsuit over a skirt. She imagined her legs would’ve blushed from all the heat gushing straight between her legs. Did legs even blush? Was that possible? Because it sure felt possible right at this moment.
She knew Mia had a knack for picking out handsome guys, but damn! This man was perfection at its finest, from his stylish hair to his angular jaw that looked meant for kissing to his suit that fit him like a glove. Even though he was sitting comfortably in his chair, she could tell the suit fit him to perfection.
Not that she cared how well the suit fit him.
She took a few more steps before sinking into the chair. Another plush, comfortable chair that made her want to groan with satisfaction. And maybe a little from the piercing depths of his dark brown eyes that seemed to stare straight through her. Right down to her very soul.
“It’s Still-ano. Not Style-ano. And I apologize. The view from your office is amazing.” She pointed at the window as she tried to make up for her complete lack of decorum.
She needed him to turn toward the window. She needed some time to regain her composure. He was sex wrapped up into a nice delectable package with a beautiful red bow to tie it closed. Merry Christmas to her. Or not. He was Mia’s boyfriend.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the gorgeousness before her. It was totally okay to look. But no touching. He had brown hair, about as deep as his sharp brown eyes, combed to the right with a slight wave. It was short but long enough to tame with a comb. She was curious if she ran her hands through it if it would stick straight up or fall flat, resting into the same pattern he combed it into.
Mia. Think of Mia. This was her boyfriend. You are not touching the man’s hair.
They stared at one another for the longest time. At least, it felt like that. He needed to turn around.
“The view. Gorgeous, right? You must—”
“Moving along, Ms. Stileano. It says here on your application that the last time you had any sort of secretarial job was at nineteen. A few cooking jobs, a bakery, and a flower shop since then. What makes you qualified? I prefer not to waste anyone’s time here. Especially mine.”
“First off, Mr. Holloway, thank you for getting my last name right this time. I do appreciate that.” For the moment, she’d ignore the fact he interrupted her.Think of Mia.Because, how rude. “Secondly, I’m a fast typer. Writing reports is my forte at my—” Gabby stopped, almost spilling beans about her real job. “At my last job at the flower shop. You have no idea how many inventory reports I had to write. I take meticulous notes because I hate missing anything. There are so many things you can miss if you don’t write that shit down.”
She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to swear. I have a potty mouth sometimes. There’s a quarter jar at work. I contribute to it...a lot. The main contributor, actually. My former work, that is. I don’t work at the flower shop anymore.”
That wasn’t a lie. There had been a quarter jar at the flower shop because she made one, just like she created the one at her current job. And the one she had in her apartment. Not to mention one at Mia’s. Not that the dumb swear jars ever stopped her from cursing. She had the worst potty mouth. The words came naturally out of her mouth, no matter how hard she tried to stop herself. But it was nice to have—especially at work—because it filled up quickly with everyone contributing to it. They always used the money to buy donuts, cupcakes, and anything else yummy to snack on.
She inhaled a patient breath and folded her legs. She never lost her cool like this. He was simply too easy to look at. His eyes, brown as the chocolate she ate this morning, seared into her as she spoke. It was unnerving. Thinking about that chocolate made her want to eat him up as well. She imagined he’d be just as delicious.
Stop it! Mia, don’t forget about Mia.
“The qualifications said you needed someone who could write memos, take notes, file files.” She laughed. Not that there was anything funny about this situation. His tepid expression said he wasn’t amused at all. “I am very organized, some would even say anal—way anal. I’ve had that said to me way too many times. But hey, if it’s in its place, you can’t lose it. Am I right?”
She watched as his lips moved, barely. She couldn’t tell if that was a smile wanting to be freed or an unconscious gesture. She had to say, though, she enjoyed looking at his lips. They looked like very kissable lips. She could already imagine them making their way to hers. Taking a light nibble, then making a slow trail down her neck to her breast where he would clamp onto her—
Mia! You are here for Mia. Stop letting your mind wander.
“Why did you leave the flower business? Any problems that I should know? Besides your potty mouth,” he said, his gaze still unwavering and void of any expression but coolness.
But that twitch. She saw it again. Definite twitch of the lips. He wanted to smile. She could tell. Oh, how she wanted him to smile. She imagined it would personify his handsome features. The added five o’clock shadow on his cheeks added a hint of danger. Like he was tempting her to close the distance and kiss him. Brush her cheek against his scruffy one.
