Chapter Three
EMMETT
The moment I stepped out of the elevator onto the twenty-seventh floor, I could feel the energy of The Common.
This was my sanctuary, a place where I could escape the expectations that followed me everywhere else.
I designed it myself when I started the department six years ago.
It was one of my proudest accomplishments.
The sharp voice of my assistant cut through my thoughts and snapped me back to reality.
“Emmett! You’re late. Did you forget your new intern was starting today?” She fixed me with a stern look from behind her desk.
I ran my fingers through my sandy brown hair, then rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of the morning catching up with me.
My flight from London, where I’d been ringing in the new year with Wick, had been delayed.
By the time I’d made it home, it was well past midnight.
I’d overslept and missed my morning workout.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, I spilled scalding coffee all over my favorite shirt.
Today was not off to a good start.
“Of course not,” I said, trying to summon my customary charm. “I’m just fashionably late, as always.”
Meredith raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Well, Mr. Fashionably Late, Miss Winters is already waiting in your office. And you look like shit.”
“My flight was delayed. I overslept,” I grumbled.
“More money than God, and you chose to fly commercial.”
I always flew commercial unless I was on business. It was one of my many attempts to avoid becoming one of those elitist snobs I’d spent years trying not to hate at boarding school.
“Thanks for the pep talk, Meredith.”
“I live to serve.” She clicked the button on her desk that unlocked the double doors to the hallway that led to my office.
I suppressed a scowl. I was more than capable of opening a damn door for myself.
Honestly, I preferred to leave them propped open.
Accessibility and whatnot. My efforts not to act like a rich, arrogant asshole felt wasted when everyone insisted on running around after me, anticipating my every whim.
I walked towards my office with a spring to my step.
While my tardiness may have suggested otherwise, I was always excited to greet a new intern.
Each one brought a fresh perspective and new ideas.
Ideas I sorely needed. With our most recent endeavor wrapping up, it was time to shift gears. But the gears could use some grease.
Let’s see what you’ve got, Miss Winters.
I caught a glimpse of her through the open door, sitting in one of the chairs across from my desk.
Her head and shoulders barely cleared the back of the chair.
Petite. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck.
Boring. Not a great first impression, but not an awful one, either.
Who makes a first impression from the back of their head?
I mentally scolded myself for being a dickhead.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself to set her at ease, and crossed the threshold of my office. As if sensing my presence, she turned to face me.
“You must be Miss Win—” I stopped short. A strange sense of familiarity washed over me.
Her green eyes widened, and she whispered with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “You.”
I couldn’t help smiling at her reaction, even as I fought to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “And you.” I leaned against the doorframe with what I hoped was an air of nonchalance. “Finally, I can put a name to the face. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Winters.”
I hung up the phone and stepped into the lobby, the fading sunlight spotlighting a figure by the mailboxes. She whirled around, her sudden expletive cutting through the quiet. I paused, struck dumb. Not many people could look that beautiful in a hoodie and ratty slippers.
Her hand flew to her chest. I wondered if her heart was racing as fast as mine. As I approached, she took in my appearance with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. The sweet scent of her perfume was intoxicating.
“Everything okay over here?” Lame, but I needed an excuse to talk to her.
The silence stretched between us. I watched her look me over, assessing, judging. Not the typical reaction I received.
“I, uh...I’m fine,” she said, her voice betraying a hint of embarrassment as she gestured toward the scattered papers. “Just looking for a package from my mom.”
“Need some help?” I stepped closer, feeling a magnetic pull.
She lifted her chin defiantly. “With finding my mom’s dumb box of makeup and snacks? Thanks, but I think I can handle it.”
“I’m Emmett. I’m here to pick up my sister for dinner.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Good for you. I’d really just like to get my package now so I can go.”
“In a hurry to get away from me, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Crouching down, she began gathering her papers.
“You’re right, I’m sure your evening is just packed with...studying, I assume?”
“Actually, yes. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Her words crackled with a blend of annoyance and humor
“Fair enough. Though you have to admit, I’m a bit more interesting than whatever’s in that box.”
“I highly doubt that.”
As she stepped around me, my hand reached out. I was barely conscious of what I was doing. I just knew I didn’t want this conversation to end. “Don’t be so sure. I could show you a good time if you’d let me.”
Something flashed in her eyes. For a moment, I thought I saw the flicker of interest.
“Yeah, I’ll pass. Thanks.”
“Playing hard to get, huh? I like a challenge.”
She freed herself from my grasp. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, buddy. I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing.”
Her dismissal was clear, but I grinned at the playful undertone in her voice. “Who said anything about games?”
A familiar voice hit me like a bucket of cold water. Not even a professional assassin could match my sister’s talent for killing the moment. As I turned to greet her, I couldn’t help noticing the contrast between Meghan’s entitled demeanor and the refreshing authenticity of the woman before me.
When she treated my companion like something nasty stuck to the bottom of her shoe, I couldn’t control my irritation. “Jesus, Meghan. Do you have to be such a bitch all the time?”
I offered the woman an apologetic look.
Her obvious surprise at my rebuke of Meghan was satisfying. I winked at her, a part of me relishing the blush it brought to her cheeks.
My sister’s impatient gesture pulled me away, but I couldn’t resist throwing a final smirk over my shoulder. “I’ll see you around, beautiful.”
But I never did. Until today.
My thoughts raced as I tried to focus on the present, but the memory of that day refused to be silenced.
It was Meghan’s first week at school, and she was not happy to be living in the dorms. Her text earlier that week described them as uncivilized. Being the amazing brother I am, I offered to take her to dinner. I figured she’d appreciate the break from campus cuisine.
Having double-parked outside her building, I waltzed into the lobby like I owned the place. Much as I tried to fight it, I could still be an arrogant dick when the mood took me. I didn’t expect to be stopped in my tracks by a tiny brunette. She was fucking stunning.
I instantly felt like a creep. She couldn’t be more than eighteen.
I was a twenty-four-year-old man fresh out of B-school and building an entire department at one of the largest companies in the country.
And here I was, drooling over a girl the same age as my little sister.
Before I could stop myself, my feet propelled me toward her, and words spilled from my mouth.
I had spent the last six years comparing every woman to a college freshman I shared air with for ninety seconds.
“Who are you?” Callie asked.
“Your boss. I’m—”
“You’re my boss? Aren’t you a little young?”
“Insulting me on your first day, Miss Winters? Bold moves.”
“I thought I was reporting to Mr. Price. Meredith said this was his office. Am I in the wrong place?”
“I’ll give you a moment.”
“For what?”
“To figure it out.”
My father had interviewed this batch of interns back in the fall while I was on temporary leave.
He was a man of impeccable judgment, and I trusted him implicitly.
I never dreamed that the old man’s excellent judge of character would conspire with fate.
It had brought me face to face with the girl who had plagued my dreams for six years.
“Figure what out?”
One. Two. Three. Her eyes widened to a comical size as she made the connection.
“I-I thought I was reporting to your father.” Her cheeks flushed pink.
“Did you now?” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. I’m Emmett Price, VP of Special Projects, and you’ll be reporting to me for the duration of your internship.”
She blanched. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Price. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“Call me Emmett, please,” I said, waving off her apology.
Much as I was enjoying teasing her, I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.
“It’s no big deal. I understand the confusion.
I’m sorry I couldn’t interview you myself.
I took a few months…sabbatical in the fall.
I just returned last night from London.”
As we spoke, I took in her appearance. She was even more beautiful than I remembered.
The crisp lines of her business formal attire contrasted sharply with my casual jeans and button-up shirt.
It was clear she took her work seriously.
I admired that, but she’d need to loosen up if she was going to fit in around here.
“You must be exhausted,” she said, her eyes shining with compassion. “If you need some time, I can find my way around.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m glad you’re here, Callie.”
“Thank you,” she said with a shy smile. “I’m excited to be here. Though, I now feel like I should apologize for calling you an entitled asshole.”