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“Thank you. I’m glad you like it. Come on in. I’ll give you a tour later.”
“I’d love that,” she replied cheerily.
I stood back and ushered her in, enjoying the view of her very fine ass and swaying hips as she went past me. My home office was just to the right of the front door, and I gestured for her to go in ahead of me.
The room was unabashedly masculine with dark wood furniture, including a built-in bookcase that took up one entire wall. There were a lot of blues and greens in the décor, but that had all been the interior designer I hired. My only requirement had been that she use my desk. It was my grandfather’s, and I had fond memories of sitting with him while he taught me about stocks and how to invest.
He was the reason I had an excellent portfolio, a nest egg in case I ever had a career-ending injury.
I followed Naomi inside and walked around to stand behind my chair. “Why don’t you have a seat, and we can go through my accounts and make sure you have full access?”
“Sounds good.”
As she sat down, I reached around her to move my mouse and wake up my laptop. We looked through some of my social media posts on one platform and talked about the current content, including where I wanted to go with it moving forward.
“Your last social media person did a good job. Why did you let them go?” Naomi inquired.
I should have expected her to ask, but like an idiot, I hadn’t prepared an answer. So I mentally scrambled to come up with something.
“He had a very odd dynamic. To be honest”—I mentally winced because while the first part had been true, this last sentence was a bit of a fib—“he seemed overly attached, giving me a bit of a super fan/stalker vibe.”
“Oh my,” Naomi breathed, her eyes round with shock. “I see a lot of room for growth and improvement and thought perhaps he wasn’t staying current with trends and things like that.”
I mentally banged my head against a wall. “Yes, that would have been an excellent, much simpler reason. Anyway, let’s look at the rest.”
We kept moving through them, and she shared new ideas that highly impressed me. One of the apps required a two-factor authentication, so it sent a text message to my tablet. When I swiped the screen, the video chat app was still open. Moving my finger toward the close button, I saw the ending call time displayed in the corner.
Fifteen minutes ago?That seemed odd. I could’ve sworn we’d been working for longer than that. Then again, I had a feeling that I would lose all sense of time whenever I was with Naomi. She captivated me and consumed my mind.
By the time we finished looking through things and talking strategy, evening had fallen. “Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Yes, but I’ll eat when I get home.”
“I’m going to make you dinner,” I replied, not even acknowledging her comment about going home. I took her hand and helped her to her feet, then laced our fingers together and led her to the kitchen.
“Wow,” she gasped as she walked through the door. “This kitchen is amazing.”
I smiled and guided her over to a big island in the center of the room. “I’m glad you like it. Do you enjoy cooking?” Without asking permission, I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto one of the tall chairs.
Naomi wrinkled her nose, and I laughed. “I’ll take that as a no.”
She giggled, then sighed. “I don’t mind it actually, but what I really love is baking. My mom and I used to do it all the time, and it’s one of my favorite ways to relax.”
“Hmm,” I murmured in her ear. “Perhaps someday you’ll let me taste some of your sweets, baby.” I assumed she’d picked up on my double entendre because her skin flushed all the way down past the small amount of cleavage bared by the scooped neck of her sleeveless blouse. I vowed to find out just how far down that pretty blush went very soon.
“Can I infer from this kitchen that you’re a fan of cooking?” she queried.
I shrugged as I made my way to the refrigerator. “My mom made sure her boys knew enough not to starve. But after my initial rookie-stupid years”—a musical laugh slipped from between her lips, and I almost forgot what I was saying—“um, I knew that if I wanted a long career, I had to make every effort to be as healthy as possible. So I learned how to cook more than spaghetti and scrambled eggs.”
“Impressive,” Naomi teased, her blue orbs twinkling with amusement.
“Hopefully,” I replied with a grin. “Now I enjoy the challenge to be creative so I don’t get bored with my cooking and run out for a cheeseburger.”
She gasped and put her hand to her heart dramatically. “No cheeseburgers? How have you survived?”
Having retrieved all the ingredients I needed, I began to put together a pasta salad that I particularly liked. “I didn’t say Inevergo off the wagon.”
Naomi giggled, and I winked at her as I washed vegetables in the large sink in the island. “What else do you like to do?”
