I look up at the tall skyscraper in the middle of the Financial District, take a deep breath and walk through the revolving door.
Carson Industries takes up five floors and I step off the elevator on the 25th floor. I think the Human Resources Department is on this level, but I’m not completely positive. Crap. This is going to take longer than it should, I realize with a sinking feeling. First impressions are everything and being late for an interview is the kiss of death.
I rush up the hallway, my heels clicking, and search frantically for a door with Human Resources on its plaque.
Dammit, why didn’t I come up earlier?
Because you were too busy messaging Andy, a small voice reminds me.
I hurry around the corner, out of breath, and pause. Great, another long-ass hallway. I take off, faster than before as the seconds tick down to the moment that makes me officially late.
Still no sign of the HR Department. I might not even be on the right floor, I think. Up ahead, I see an open door and decide it’s probably best to poke my head in and ask for directions.
I walk through the doorway, adjusting my purse higher up on my shoulder, and find myself in a large, open area with around a dozen desks. The closest girl to me wears a pair of tortoiseshell glasses that look a little too big.
“Excuse me,” I say. “Can you tell me where HR is? I have an interview with-”
The words just kind of disappear, melt back down my throat, when I see Drew Carson standing in the nearest doorway.
And, I don’t know how it’s possible, but he’s even more gorgeous in person.
Chapter Eight
Drew
After I wish Leigh good luck, I put my phone away and wonder where her interview is and if I know the owner. Most likely. I wish I could put a good word in for her.
I tap my finger against my desk and get that restless feeling again. It’s like I have all this pent-up energy inside me and need to get it out. I need a goddamn hobby. Or, maybe I just need to get laid.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, ready for this day to just be over when I hear the click of high heels. There’s nothing sexier than high heels, and I look up and out through the glass partition, curious to see who it is because God knows it isn’t Becca. She wears some kind of hideous ballet flat day in and day out. She probably has ten different colors of the sexless shoes.
And, then I see her.
The first thing I notice is the blonde hair. I’m a sucker for blondes. Maybe because my hair is nearly black. I’m not really sure but it may have something to do with that angelic look. She’s tall, especially with those heels. Maybe 5’8’’? Which would put her neatly under my chin.
She’s wearing a short skirt that hits right above her knees and a little sweater that hugs in all the right places. I’m up and out of my chair before I even know what I’m doing. It’s like my body goes on autopilot and my target is the hot girl and nothing is going to get in my way.
When she looks from Becca and over to me, I can see she has blue eyes. Or, are they green? It’s hard to tell from here so I take a step closer. Then, I realize that Becca is whispering something and I have no idea what. Nor do I care. I’m too fascinated by this angel.
“...for an interview, Mr. Carson.”
I catch the last part of Becca’s mumbling and smile. “C’mon in,” I say. “I need a new assistant and have time to interview you.”
For a moment, she looks hesitant. But, then she walks over to me, holds out her hand and returns the smile. “I’m Ashley Monroe.”
I force myself to take her hand and I think we shake a moment too long. I like the feel of her hand in mine. Becca watches us so I let go and motion for Ashley to go into my office. Then, I close the door behind us and make my way to the other side of my desk.
“I’m Drew Carson,” I say and sit. “So, what brings you to Carson Industries, Ms. Monroe?”
“Well, I recently graduated with a degree in business and my friend’s father helped me get an interview here. He does consultant work for you.”
I’m so focused on her full, luscious lips that I don’t really hear what she’s saying. I look up from her mouth and into her eyes. Definitely blue. No, wait, blue-green. Kind of like the ocean. The color always seems to change.
I nod to whatever she just said and run a hand along my jaw. Normally, I’m always clean-shaven, but the scruff is kind of growing on me. “So, Ms. Monroe...how would you feel about being my assistant?”
Her eyes go wide. “I have to be honest, I don’t have much office experience yet, but I’m a fast learner. And, I’m very interested in what you do here and how I could contribute.”
“That’s good.” My gaze dips to the neckline of her sweater. She’s breathing fast and I can’t help but notice how her chest heaves up and down.
“Sorry,” she says and a hand flutters over her heart. “I was running up and down the halls, looking for your HR Department, so I’m still a little breathless.”
A rush of heat sweeps downward and I feel my groin tighten. Focus, Drew. Just finish this farce of an interview and hire the eye candy.
“It’s a large company. Don’t worry about it.” I prop my elbows on the desk and rest my chin on top of my laced fingers. “Can you start tomorrow?” I ask her.
“Um, sure,” she says, a confused look on her face. “You don’t need to know anything else?”
I’d love to know what you look like under those clothes, I think.
“Like what?” I ask, a lazy smile on my lips.
“Well, I just graduated from San Francisco State with a degree in business.”
I nod. I don’t give a shit if she has a degree in bagpiping.
“So, I think working here would be a great opportunity to learn so much more. To get real-world experience.”
“I’ve no doubt that you will learn quite a lot working here,” I concur. My mind is in the gutter and I need to pull it. “So, tomorrow, then?”
She gives a happy, little nod and I grin. “Welcome to Carson Industries.”
Ashley Monroe is just the distraction I need.
Chapter Nine
Ashley
As soon as I get back to my apartment, I call Laurel and tell her I got the job.
“Congrats! I knew you’d get it. Let’s meet for a drink and celebrate,” she says.
Half an hour later, Laurel and I sit at a cute, little martini bar near where we live. I order an espresso martini, my favorite, and she gets her usual Cosmopolitan.
“Tell your Dad I said thank you. That was so nice of him to get me in there.”
“He was glad to help. So, what are you going to be doing?”
I take a sip of my drink and Drew Carson’s piercing blue eyes flash through my mind. I’ve never seen eyes like his. They’re this deep midnight blue with a black rim around the edges. They suck you right in like a black hole.
“Um, well, I met the owner.”
“You met Drew Carson? Is he as hot in person as in his pictures?”
“Hotter,” I admit and fan my face with a hand.
Laurel laughs and sips her drink.