Chapter 3


    Within a moment all of them are in his office, past Margo’s inner door, and it’s closed. I take a deep


    breath of relief and try again to type this document out, meeting with my usual sess. Quick and swift


    skill with a keyboard now that I have no visual distractions.


    It seems like an eternity has passed when my switchboard lights up, and the distant voice of Margot


    interrupts my concentration. I was unaware I’d been semi holding my breath until that second and give


    myself another stern inner shake.


    “Emma, pleasee into Mr. Carrero’s office. Thank you.” The voice sounds distant and tinny on the


    remarkably high-tech machine.


    “Yes, Mrs. Drake.” I flinch at my use of her full name, knowing she asked me to call her Margo. I


    mentally scold myself to not repeat the mistake.


    I don’t make mistakes. Ever.


    I slide up, smoothing down my clothes and putting my jacket back on quickly. Buttoning it up nervously


    as I walk the small distance to her door which blocks entrance to his.


    It takes all my willpower to walk into the office, and all of my acting ability, dredged up from somewhere


    deep, to pull off the undaunted calm demeanor that I try to present at all times. My stomach-turning


    somersaults, and my throat drying up. I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble with it today.


    “Ah, Emma, here you are.” Margo meets me as I pull open the heavy wooden door and slide in.


    Suddenly conscious of how short I am, even in my spike heels, next to her swan like body. She stands


    tall for a woman and I stand at around five feet four.


    “Jake, this is Emma Anderson. She’s your new assistant in training. Your new number two.” She smiles


    fondly at me and gestures me toe to her. I move beside her and get the gentle familiar pat on my


    shoulder as she tries to put me at ease.


    I blink a few times, pausing at the use of the name Jake.


    Am I missing something here?


    It dawns on me he prefers the name Jake. Brain clicking with memories from my research. He


    corrected many interviewers and I remember he likes the informality and encourages using his first


    name; shortened first name.


    All my thoughts slip away to nothing and I’m held captive to the floor, unable to speak as the object of


    my nerves gets out of his seat. This is what I’ve been afraid of! My reaction when faced with someone I


    find attractive, and it’spletely new to me.


    I don’t even notice the others in the room as he effortlessly glides up and toward me. He has the walk


    of someone who’s never doubted his own confidence or abilities. Someone who knew from early in life


    that he was devastatingly attractive and has the best kind of reaction from all women. It’s mesmerizing


    in a way, but also disconcerting.


    He towers above me as he approaches, putting him over the six-foot mark easily. Wearing all ck;


    shirt and suit, minus a tie and top buttons open. The overall effect makes me breathless. He’s beyond


    underwear model hot, he’s like some female fantasye to life.


    Jeeze.


    “Miss. Anderson.” He extends an arm, and all I can do is reach out and shake the neatly manicured, yet


    oddly masculine, hand. I’m painfully aware of the way my heart quickens, and my breath is slightly


    labored at the tingling sensation of his skin on mine. I immediately feel betrayed by my own body.


    I push it down, abhorred that I should react this way. It’s alien to me and has me shifting on my own


    axis. I don’t like being forced out of myfort zone and into new experiences.


    “Mr Car—” my voice is feeble. I’m so pathetic and obvious.


    “Jake! Please,” he cuts in; those green eyes taking me in, leaving me no clue to anything going on


    behind them.


    “Margo informs me she’s happy with you so far and will be training you a little more extensively in time,


    to step in fully when she retires. I guess that means we should get better acquainted on a first name


    basis.” He throws me a charming, soft smile, and I’m not immune to the effect. It’s a gesture that hints


    that he knows exactly what he’s doing with it though.


    So, this is how you win over women is it, Carrero? Melting them with seductive smiles. Ughhh.


    My insides lurch unexpectedly. His hand is smooth and inhumanely warm in mine, and I’m starting to


    feel mmy. Anxious Emma peeking her head out, only to be pushed back down with a firm shove.


    Content ? N?velDrama.Org.


    Be still, Emma … Stay cool. Stop drooling.


    “I’m really grateful for the opportunity.” I sound normal enough, only a slight waver in my voice this time


    and I’m relieved. If anything, my years of poise are saving me from myself right now. Pulling off the


    pretense.


    He subtly looks me over. There’s nothing in it, which surprises me. Just an interested appraisal as he


    tries to measure me up. I guess he’s used to women going all weak-kneed and pie-eyed at his


    presence and it interests him that I don’t appear to be. I’m d he can’t see my internal reactions, as


    they are behaving disgustingly right about now.


    I’m unnerved that this close he’s just as handsome, if not more than his inte pictures, and his


    ruggedness is intimidating. The sheer power of his shoulders and toned body, straining behind the


    expensive clothing. I know from photographs he prefers more casual attire than suits and ties most of


    the time. He’s sexually intimidating and so far out of my league in every way and now, in the flesh, it’s


    so much more obvious. I swallow hard.


    “Can I get you a drink, Emma? You look flushed.” His voice pours over me like honey, and my mouth


    dries up fully. I’m blushing, heat emanating from my roots and scowl at my inner-adolescent self. He


    removes his hand and walks away from me to his desk with a confident swagger.


    I’m uneasy and try to regain my equilibrium, swallowing several times to get the moisture back into my


    parched mouth and keep my eyes off his ass. A drink would be good right now, if only to release my


    throat.


    “Thank you.” I catch Margot watching me with a strange look in her eye, and I realize it’s a touch of


    uncertainty. Mr. Carrero moves off to a bar at the rear of the room, to the side of his desk, with his back


    to us to fix me a drink.


    Shit!


    She’s thinking I’m just another receptionist with the hots for Mr. Carrero. Another woman to fall at the


    hurdle of meeting him.


    I try to pull myself together, smooth invisible wrinkles in my clothes and straighten my body up, trying to


    get back my professional air and grace. I hate that I’ve shown signs of being rattled. I don’t normally


    break under so little pressure, and I’m not impressed with myself.


    I catch her expression warm up, and I rx.


    Perhaps I’m overthinking this.


    I’m mindful that Mr. ck Suit is standing in a corner by the window, ring at us; it’s a little


    intimidating, but also reassuring. Just out of sight to my far left on the long cream Italian leather couch,


    the younger man is sitting below some huge prints of modern artistry depicting what might be naked


    women. I blink and look again. Yes, naked women.


    Ughhh. Really? Could you be anymore yboy, Carrero?


    Arrick is disinterested in what’s going on. He’s ying with his cell, and I think I recognize the Angry


    Birds music that Sarah loves to irritate me with. An annoying, immature game, although Arrick looks


    late teens to early twenties so he can be forgiven for a juvenile game, I suppose.


    “Here you go,” Jake’s voice cuts into my thoughts, bringing my attention back to him as he hands me a


    tall ss of something bubbly with ice. I take a sip and give him a grateful smile, expecting vored


    water. It’s a cold, clear liquid that tastes sweetly tropical with a hint of unexpected alcohol.


    I guess it’s not iced water.


    It’s a cocktail and I try not to show my surprise, but a tiny frown hits my brow before I can correct it.


    Inwardly startled.


    Surprising. He did this himself. Booze at work though?


    “Thank you, Mr. … Jake.” I correct, and he gives me a soft smile again. I ignore the butterflies in my


    stomach rising from it, with a minor annoyance.


    Stop behaving like a fourteen-year-old!


    “So, Emma, Margo tells me you’ve worked here for just over five years?” he sits back to perch on his


    desk, body rxed, and eyes fixed on me. Margo standing close by, listening. He is distractingly good-


    looking, more so when hezes all casual and charming, and very un-boss like.


    “Yes. I’ve worked on various floors, but mainly tenth.” I move to ce my ss on the table, so my


    fingers don’t toy with the rim showing my nervous habits. I’m disappointed to be putting it down, it


    tasted amazing, but I’m not a fan of alcohol at work, or anytime for that matter. He has skills with


    making drinks though.