Dancing Around This (Off My Feet #1)

Chapter 1

Meet cute-----and he's gone

August

Amelia

Drunk me is not allowed to get on the internet anymore.

Finding new recipes? Great. Helpful, even.

Watching cat videos? Hours of fun.

Buying random shit? Relatively harmless.

Applying for a job I’m not qualified for? Fucking stupid.

Drunk me decided I’d make a good personal assistant to the CEO of some billion-dollar tech company.

In her defense, she’s not wrong. I would rock the shit out of it.

I’m the oldest of seven kids, and I’ve always been the family planner and sibling wrangler.

In high school, I was in charge of arranging all the events for the dance team, even before I became the captain.

When I was fifteen, I started working at the dance studio where I’d been training my whole life.

By the time I moved to New York for college, I was teaching a few lower-level classes, setting the class and rehearsal schedules, ordering costumes, and about a million other tasks that needed done.

Four years later, I still help with family and studio stuff from across the country. I was fucking with the family calendar just last night after Mom sent me a frantic message about needing to be in two places at once. I had to rearrange a couple of things, but I got it worked out.

So yeah, I can handle being a personal assistant.

But I doubt a twenty-two-year-old college dropout is what Delgado Technology Corp. is looking for.

The waiting area outside the HR office is filled with people all interviewing for the same position I am. My cute dress didn’t feel too casual before I left my apartment, but it does next to power suits and pencil skirts.

I can’t believe I used my good makeup for this.

“I heard he goes through assistants like pots of coffee,” a woman across from me says quietly. “The longest anyone has lasted was two months.”

“I bet he screws them and then fires them when he gets tired of them,” another woman replies.

A man leans in close to them. “My cousin knows one of the temps, and apparently, he’s incredibly picky, grumpy, and unapproachable. Most of his assistants beg to be transferred because he wants perfection. He doesn’t have a playboy rep—he has an asshole rep.”

The first woman shrugs. “Well, the benefits are fantastic, and getting a foot in the door here is worth putting up with some jerk for a month or two.”

My palms start to sweat. I’m sunshiny most of the time, albeit with an undercurrent of sass and snark. Well, maybe more than an undercurrent. I can deal with grumpy assholes, but I don’t like working for them.

As the last applicant to arrive, I’m last on the list. I wasn’t late, but I wasn’t early, either. I pushed myself too hard dancing in my living room last night, trying to work through my nerves, so my leg is bothering me, and I’m moving slower than I want to be.

If my soul is happy, my leg is not. It’s a trade-off.

“Amelia Sinclair?” The woman conducting the interviews looks at me, and it takes me a second to react because I almost never hear my full name. I’ve gone by Minnie for as long as I can remember, but drunk me didn’t think that sounded professional enough.

Again, she’s not exactly wrong.

I stand and follow the woman into her office. She motions toward a chair with a tired smile before walking around her desk.

“I’m Katie, head of HR.” Her eyes flick to what I’m assuming is my resume. “Hmm. You don’t really have the experience needed for this position.”

I told myself that same thing earlier. But hearing her say it sparks that thing inside me that likes to prove people wrong.

It’s not even about needing this job. I do need a new job, something that pays better and isn’t working from home like I’ve been doing because I can’t stay cooped up in my apartment anymore, but it doesn’t have to be this job.

Well, it didn’t… Now, I’m not walking away without a fight.

“I’m guessing everyone else who came in today has those qualifications, but so did all the people who have actually worked this position already.”

She narrows her gaze at my snarky response. I am so not getting this job.

But then she chuckles. “You’re right. Experience isn’t everything. Tell me why you think you would be a good fit for this job.”

So, I do. When I’m done giving her a rundown, she nods thoughtfully.

“I like your determination. And your spunk. You just might be what Alex needs.”

“Can I ask why no one lasts long as his assistant? At least, that’s the rumor going around the waiting room earlier.”

She sits back in her chair with a heavy sigh.

“Alex isn’t nearly as formal and uptight as a lot of people think he is.

But he’s very particular. If a shirt comes back from the dry cleaner with a stain or a coffee order is wrong, his whole day is thrown off.

There are a lot of little things about him that even he doesn’t realize until it’s too late, like that he has a favorite type of pen, and nothing else will do.

” Katie shakes her head, laughing softly.

“He’s probably my best friend, but he’s a giant pain in my ass. ”

“I’ve packed lunches for more than half a dozen kids at once, each with a different favorite sandwich, chips, fruit, and vegetable.

I only messed them up one time, but I had the worst flu of my life that week and literally forgot my own name at some point.

I pay attention to details and remember them,” I claim, hoping I don’t sound too cocky.

After almost an hour of chatting, Katie says, “I’m going to talk with Alex, but I’m putting you at the top of my list. I think you’re the breath of fresh air we need around this place.”

I smile brightly. “Thank you. I would love to have a chance to prove myself. I know I can do this job.”

Feeling optimistic when I walk out of the building, I head for the coffee shop next door as a reward. I’ll use any reason to stop for coffee, and I know this place has what I like. While waiting for my drink, a man steps up to the counter, and I can’t stop staring at him.

Tall and handsome. Dark hair with just a bit of silver at the temples.

Strong jaw. A build that says he works out but doesn’t live in the gym.

His tie is slightly askew, he’s not wearing a suit jacket, and his sleeves are unbuttoned.

He has to be older than me by at least a decade, but something about him makes my heart jump in my chest.

After ordering a large coffee with room, he walks toward the cream and sugar options next to me. His eyes meet mine and I’m lost. Breath gone, heart stopped, panties no longer dry…

Holy shit. This man just made my panties wet with nothing more than a glance. In a fucking coffee shop.

His barely-there beard almost hides the little dimple in his chin, and his eyes just might be the prettiest shade of green I’ve ever seen.

He walks closer and his perfect bow-shaped lips tilt up into a soft smile.

I’m not just wet, I’m drenched. Embarrassingly so. My cheeks heat as he sets his cup down and opens the lid. He adds two packets of sugar and tops it off with cream.

“Large tepid peppermint white mocha,” a barista says as she places my drink on the counter. I pick it up and notice the sexy man glancing up and around at the walls and ceiling. My face scrunches in confusion.

“What are you looking for?” I ask him curiously, unable to help myself.

He chuckles. “Christmas decorations. I thought maybe I missed a memo about it coming early this year. I didn’t know they even made peppermint mochas in August.” His voice is deep and sultry as he teases me. God, I love that he’s teasing me even though we’re strangers.

I don’t want to stay strangers with this man.

“Peppermint’s not just for Christmas, you know?” I sass. The coffee shop next to the dance studio back home always makes sure to have some on hand, no matter the season. Just one of the many benefits of my best friend working there since high school.

“If you say so,” he quips, raising an eyebrow.

I prop my hand on my hip and cock my head. “I’ll have you know I happen to be an expert on the subject.”

His smile turns into more of a smirk.

I suddenly hope he asks me out. Or for my number. He could ask me to elope to Vegas or blow him in the bathroom and I would happily agree. I’ve never given a blow job in a coffee shop bathroom, or any bathroom for that matter, but there’s a first time for everything.

His lips part, but my phone rings before he can say whatever it is he’s about to say, and my physical therapist’s name pops up on the screen.

“Shit, I have to take this.” I give him an apologetic smile as I answer. “Hi, Billie.”

“Hey, Minnie. I had a cancellation tomorrow afternoon and wanted to give you first dibs on it. I’m assuming you’ve been pushing yourself too hard and need an extra session,” she says.

I really like Billie. She only gives me shit about doing too much if she really thinks it’s more than I can handle. She gives me freedom but is strict when she needs to be.

“You know me so well. Tomorrow sounds great. What time?”

“Four.”

“Okay, see you then.” I hang up and turn back to my new favorite stranger, just in time to see him walk out the door.

My heart sinks, which is ridiculous because I don’t even know this guy.

But damn it, I want to know him! I thought we shared a connection and he’s just going to disappear on me? What the hell?

I head for the door, but when I get outside, he’s lost in the magic and mystery that is New York City. A disappointed sigh leaves my lips. Got my hopes up and my panties wet for nothing.