She discreetly studied him from the corner of her eye. She didn’t know if it was his charm, the expensive-looking suit or the model looks, but there was something so alluringly sensual about this man. And apparently she wasn’t the only one drawn in by his cool demeanor, she thought dryly as several women openly gawked at him as they walked into Starbucks.
The girl behind the counter gaped, open-mouthed, at them as their turn arrived. Denora lifted an eyebrow and the other woman flushed a deep scarlet red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…my name is Valerie,” she stammered. “Can I please take your order?”
“Hi, Valerie.” Max gave her a cool smile. “I’ll have a double espresso, no sugar. And you?” He turned those deep blue eyes on Denora.
“Cinnamon latte, please. Decaf.” Denora’s eyes widened as she watched Max discreetly slip an overly generous tip in the jar.
More female heads turned towards them as they carried their coffees to a small table outside. Denora was starting to feel like she was with a movie star.
“I take it you’re not from here?” she asked, trying not to notice how a middle-aged woman was positively staring at him.
“No. I’m from Ireland.” He took a sip of coffee. “I’m here on business. I’m thinking of buying a few companies here.”
“And what do you do in Ireland?” she asked. “You’ve got companies over there too?”
“I own a ranch actually.” He shrugged.
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“What?” His lips unfurled in a one-sided grin. “What’s wrong with owning a ranch?”
Two spots of color tainted her dark skin. “Nothing. I mean, you just don’t strike me as the cowboy type, that’s all.” Her eyes travelled from his platinum cufflinks to the discreet Louis Vuitton insignia on his briefcase.
“Here.” He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He ran his finger across the screen and turned the phone towards her. “That’s my ranch.”
“Wow.” Denora stared at the massive house set in the middle of a strikingly green background. “It looks like a terrific place.”
“It is.”
“So you keep animals and all there?” she asked with a playful grin.
“Well, yes.” Max scrolled through the pictures. “That’s my favorite horse.” He showed her a picture of a powerful-looking black stallion.
“Wow.” Denora inhaled his distinctively masculine scent as she leaned over to look at the picture. “What’s his name?”
Max looked embarrassed. “Twinky.”
“Twinky? You named your horse Twinky?”
“Of course not,” he snapped. “It’s an absolutely ridiculous name. My sister named him.” His eyes were suddenly cold. She started to say something but he pushed back his chair and stood up. “I’m late for a meeting. It was a pleasure meeting you, Denora.”
“Uh, same.” She looked confused by his sudden change of attitude.
Max inhaled deeply and then gave her an apologetic smile. “I would like to see you again, if that’s alright with you.”
“Yes, sure. That would be nice.”
They exchanged their numbers and he leaned over to give her a swift kiss on the cheek before leaving without another word. For some reason, Denora felt uneasy as she downed her coffee and hurried back to the office. She caught Grace’s eye on her way to her cubicle. The later gave her a thumbs-up as she glanced admiringly at her hair.
Denora was just sitting down at her desk when a loud bellow rang loudly across the office floor.
“Denora! My office! Now!”
“Shit,” Denora said under her breath as she looked up. Her boss, Darren, stood in front of his office, looking positively murderous. Ignoring the look of amusement on her co-workers’ faces, Denora scuttled over to his office. He slammed the door behind her.
“Darren, I know I’m a tiny bit late but…” she started, but the pot-bellied man spoke over her.
“I gave you an extra hour for lunch so you could get your hair done,” Darren growled. “And you still come in late?”
“I know.” She smiled sheepishly at him. “I’m really, sorry, Darren. It won’t happen again.”
He sighed and sat behind his desk. “I’m sure you’re aware that you get away with all of that shit because you’re my star columnist, Denora. Anyone else would have been fired a long time ago.”
“I’m really sorry, Darren.” She tried to sound as contrite as possible.
“Yeah, well, don’t do it again,” he said. “We don’t want the rest of the staff to think that I’m playing favorites now, do we?”
She hid a smile. “Absolutely not.”
“Especially now that you’re up for the promotion.” He peered sternly at her from above his half-moon spectacles. “You’ve got my vote, Denora, but it also depends on the others. So don’t screw it up. You’ve got too much talent. Perkin’s on vacation at the moment but as soon as he comes back, we’ll have an answer for you. I think you would make a brilliant senior reporter for the magazine. Readers love your stuff. But bear in mind that you will need to work twice as hard.” He wagged his finger at her.
“Thanks, Darren.” She tried not to sound too smug. “Of course I’m ready to work hard.”
“Anyway, there’s something else that we need to talk about,” he said. “How would you feel about writing about overseas investments?”
Her brow furrowed. “Overseas investments?”
“Yes. We had a board meeting last week and there might be a few changes ahead. We might partner up with some agencies as well so we might need you to cover a few travel stories.”
“I’ve never really done that before,” Denora said hesitantly. “It does sound fun though.”
Darren rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s fun. You’ll get to travel the world as you write your columns, all expenses paid. That’s what you’ll get if you do make the cut for senior reporter. And you’ve already got a fan base so that’s a major plus for us. Still, nothing’s confirmed yet. Just carry on with your column for this week. I’ll update you when I know more. Now get to work.”
“Alright. Thanks, Darren,” she said as she left his office.
There was an email from Grace waiting for her in her mailbox.
How come you’re so late? What did Darren say? Love the hair by the way. It’s actually better than the red.
Denora smiled as she typed back.
Nah, he wasn’t really mad. He wanted to talk about this column. I met this delicious hunk of a man, by the way. We went out for coffee. He’s apparently an Irish cowboy or something. His name’s Max Greenheart.
Grace replied almost immediately
Max Greenheart??? Damn that’s no cowboy, girl. Is he the guy in the picture?
Denora frowned as she opened the attached image. A few seconds later, Max’s faced filled her screen. Not for the first time, she felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked into his dark blue, intense eyes. Darren walked past her then and she quickly minimized the picture before replying to Grace’s email.