12
He’s wearing designer jeans in a soft, washed-out gray, a white T-shirt with a graffiti print that is slightly too neat on that body, a modern leather jacket, and his trademark shades. He doesn’t look like a guy coming to the office for the day. I’m not sure I’m impressed despite how much it suits him, this bad boy biker style. It’s not exactly professional.
“Mr. Carrero … I mean Jake. Good morning.” Controlled Emma is back in play, despite the hair tickling my face and the breathlessness at his appearance and attire.
“You look nice today, Emma.” He smiles, his gaze traveling over me from head to foot with a look of appreciation, unmistakable even behind shades. It makes me uncomfortable, and my face flushes with telltale heat.
Traitorous body!
“And you, Margo.” He turns his head towards her almost as an afterthought, but she smiles.
“Don’t I always?” she smirks and throws him a wink.
“Of course!” He grins at her and lifts his shades to the top of his head to nestle in his hair. I try to ignore the little flip low in my stomach. Hating that I react to him this way, I quash it, looking anywhere but at him.
He probably practices every sexy move and mannerism in the mirror a dozen times a night for an ultimate appeal!
“What’s with the outfit?” Margo enquires, looking him up and down questioningly. “Even for you, that’s rather casual for work.”
“All work and no play makes for a very sad boy.” He grins back at her, annoyingly confident in this attire. “Touch of espionage today, Margo, Bambina.” His term makes me cringe.
Baby? Really? Is this a hint of Casanova Carrero peeking out?
I look down at my desk to hide the revulsion I know fleets across my face.
“Do you need me to come with you?” she asks, looking him over, intrigued and utterly un-phased by his pet name.
“I actually need Emma if she’s up to it?” He turns, throwing me one of his heart-aching ‘yes, I know I’m sexy’ smiles, but I don’t react. I’d seen this smile in action when I researched him, and it does little for me.
Liar.
“I’m up to whatever task you ask of me,” I respond drily.
Within reason!
The lothario smile is making me uneasy.
“Intriguing,” Margo frowns at him, still trying to work out what he is up to. “Is this the Daniel Hunter meeting? I thought we scheduled it for next week?” They’re both standing at my desk, too closely for me to ignore, so I keep my eyes on the screen instead and try to appear busy as I open today’s schedule.
“We decided to do it this morning as he’s free for a couple of days. Next week he’s flying to Paris.”
She nods, understanding what he’s talking about; I’m not yet privy to the inner office secrets between them, which happen frequently.
“My office, Emma, Margo, please,” Jake says as he walks away, and I can only follow without question, so I stand and match his purposeful stride, even in my heels. He waits until Margo and I’ve followed him in and closes the door behind us. She goes straight to his desk, leans over, and pulls the laptop across to open files as he turns to me.
“Do you have anything less … PA … to wear here?”
I falter, and my entire face warms as he looks at me with a smile, a brow raised in question.
What now?
“Emma, yes, dear. You’ll be accompanying Jake today, but you’ll need to look like a date rather than an assistant.” Margo crosses to the printer to retrieve the files she’s printed off.
I pause and muster all my willpower to keep my lungs moving in and out as they suddenly feel compressed with weight and unable to breathe normally.
Again, what?
I don’t even know how to respond to that.
“You are going to be his number two today. Everyone knows I’m his PA, whereas you, my dear, are new blood.” She smiles encouragingly, but it does nothing to quell my inner concerns. Panic raises its ugly head from the depths of my being.
“We’re up to no good,” he smiles at me in a disarming way as I try to gauge their expressions, not convinced they’re being serious, while I also try to remember how to inhale.
“No, I don’t have any other clothes here,” I answer quietly, the irritation rising within me.
“Maybe we can stop at your apartment and let you change?” Jake’s looking at me closely now, and I frown in confusion, my hands cold yet somehow getting clammy.
Why would I?
“Change?” I say icily, my stomach dropping at speed.
“Yeah.” He stands and walks toward me, eyeing me up as though trying to picture me in less formal clothes. He pushes his hands into his jean pockets, emphasizing his muscular body and lack of formality. It’s distracting. “Something more casual,” he says, chewing his bottom lip while thinking and staring, a lot of staring. I glance down at my tailored cream trousers and spiked heels. I think I look exactly as I should.
“What? Like jeans?” I try to control the edgy tone in my voice this time, but sarcasm oozes heavily.
“I was thinking more … feminine … a dress.” This is obviously funny to him. The humor in his voice grates on me; I thought I was done being Barbie already.
Why does my being in a dress amuse him? Am I that unfeminine?
“If that’s required, then yes, I have access to dresses,” I respond. Sarah has a closet full of them, the kind of romantic clothes I avoid like the plague.
“We’ll go there first then. I need this meeting to look like a breakfast date between friends.” He straightens up, pulls his hands free, and crosses them across his broad chest instead, eyes still glued to my figure and boldly looking me over.
“Am I to be enlightened on my role in this?” I ask stiffly. I try and outstare him, but he ignores it. I didn’t think I would be subjected to dress-up.
“I’m meeting with Daniel Hunter. He’s a major player in his family business.” He keeps his voice low despite being closed in his own office. “I’ll not say why until we work out a few particulars, but thanks to his very public breakup, the media is all over his ass, and he can’t shake them to meet in private.”
“You’ll be his fake date!” Margo cuts in. “Daniel will have a
girl with him too, so it will appear as though four friends are having breakfast at the Waldorf. You’ll need to take notes and get acquainted with the particulars of the proposed merger, Emma. This is your first big responsibility; I’m taking a back seat on this.”
Crap.
I’m to do this while being stripped of all that makes me comfortable and confident.
“I see.” My insides turn icy-cold, and my face numbs.
“All you need to do is smile and look adoringly at me until we get into the suite where Daniel is staying,” Jake shrugs with one shoulder; he sees no issue.
Yes, I’m sure that’s going to be easy.
“When are you leaving?” Margo presses, turning Jake’s hazy green eyes away from the scrutinizing he is doing over me.
“Right now, if she needs to go home first. Where do you live, Emma?” he asks with his eyes on mine, making me uneasy as he scans my attire.
I tell him where in West Sunnyside, and he nods before moving off to call his driver. I hear him telling him to meet us at the rear of the underground parking garage as I try to pull myself back together.
“Take a notepad and pen in a handbag. Anything else will look odd. It’s a preliminary meeting to thrash out the proposal, so take notes,” Margo says, bringing my attention to her and soothing my nerves with a warm smile.
“Yes, Margo,” I answer blankly, head reeling with all of this and feeling overwhelmed suddenly.
“Emma?” She halts me with a gentle hand on my arm.
“Yes?” I pause at her sudden intense look.
“Try to relax around Jake. He’s very easy to hang out with,” she grins, but it does nothing to remove the tension inside me.
I don’t want to hang out. I want to do my job.
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