Chapter Three
Allie
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Yesterday turned out to be such a whirlwind that after I got home last night, I spent hours lying awake in bed just wondering how the day could have taken such a turn. I also made sure that Katie heard what happened and after she finished hysterically laughing over the airport incident, she told me that everything happens for a reason and maybe I met James at just the right time.
I decided to take her advice to heart and finally fell asleep after we got off the phone at 3 a.m. Now, I’m staring at myself in the mirror trying to find an outfit that screams “professional and competent” and not “I think my boss is super-hot.” It’s a fine line.
James is so attractive and kind. Though I desperately want to continue what we started last night, I also want this job to be a turning point for my non-existent career path. I’m also a little wary of how many girls James might have done this with; I’m trying to decide if he’s like that with everyone, or if it’s really only with me. Deep down, I hope it’s just for me.
I’ve never felt this kind of instant attraction before, and I think I need to tamp it down considering he’s going to be my boss. But another part of me is desperate to know what the tattoos that span down his neck look like, the peaks of black ink through the tip of his collar have been driving me crazy and… wow, I need to get a grip.
Finally, I settle on the third outfit I’ve tried on today. Simple dark green wide leg pants, black loafers, and a plain white t-shirt. It feels like the proper level of professionalism for whatever this job is.
After James said his name and the shock of it passed, I knew I should be scared, but I wasn’t. Something about James makes me feel safe.
With my mind racing, I head downstairs and see my grandfather, Alan, sitting in the living room watching the morning news.
“Where are you off to, Allie cat?” he asks as he sets down his coffee. He’s got his signature round glasses on and his somehow still full head of gray hair is perfectly slicked back. Grandpa is nothing if not a man of style.
“I got a job!” I tell him eagerly. He knows how lost I’ve been feeling lately and his face lights up with the news as he rises to hug me.
He pulls back, hazel eyes that look just like mine meeting my own, “I’m so proud of you, Al. What are you doing?”
I tell him the story of meeting James and the airport mishap that ended with him offering me a job. Grandpa laughs at the scenario but is careful to warn me about getting close to someone of James’ background. He tells me he knows I can look after myself, but that I still need to be cautious.
I understand his concern; everyone knows about the O’Connor’s, but I don’t want anything dampening my excitement. Grandpa tells me he’s heading out on a bird watching trip with some friends for the next few days, but he’ll be reachable if I need him to “rescue me.”
I laugh, popping a kiss on his cheek and wishing him a fun trip before heading out to start my brand-new life.
I hope this is the right decision.
***
The workday is off to an interesting start, to say the least. When I got to James’ house, we promptly jumped into his Range Rover to head to a meeting.
“Do you want me to drive?” I asked.
“No, I don’t want to risk getting kidnapped again,” he rumbled. I looked at him in shock but then noticed the upturn of his lips. I hit him with a light slap, and we were on our way.
The first stop was at a jewelry store that I see ads for all the time. Their stuff is truly beautiful and when we went inside, I spent the entire time admiring this gorgeous emerald necklace and praying for the day I could afford something like it.
James came out of his meeting in the back, and we headed to a warehouse on the outskirts of town.
“Stay in the car,” he ordered. I looked at him in surprise; he’d never used this voice on me before.
“How am I supposed to help you from out here?” I argued.
His only response was the look on his face telling me it wasn’t up for debate. I sat in the car scrolling my phone for an hour before he appeared again.
When we were in the car heading back to his place, he finally gave me my first task for the day. Ordering us lunch. Not exactly what I was hoping for when I took this job.
I’ve basically been twiddling my thumbs, which is ridiculous because this morning he told me my salary is nearly $100,000 a year and I choked on my coffee. He’s paying me that much and not having me do really anything at all for him?
I should be fine with it, but if I wanted to be in a position where I didn’t do anything with my degree, I would have just stuck with the dog walking and babysitting rather than working for a questionable—but very hot—man.
It’s nearly 5 o’clock when James emerges from the back room where he’s been running off to take his mysterious calls all afternoon and the urge to ask him why he hired me has taken over.
He stalks into the living room looking annoyingly handsome. Dark hair is casually styled, and I can still see the tips of his tattoos peeking through the unbuttoned collar of his baby blue button down. He was wearing a full navy suit this morning for his meetings and I have to admit, he looks absolutely delicious in both.
“Sorry about that, the call went a bit longer than I expected,” he says, sitting down on the coffee table across from where I’m seated on the couch. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans towards me. His smell—like oranges and wood and just man — takes over my senses, but I can’t let my attraction to him overwhelm my need for answers.
I gather my courage, “James, I don’t think this is going to work out. You haven’t given me anything to do besides order lunch today. I don’t feel right taking an obscene amount of money to do nothing.” I wait for his response hoping my voice sounded confident and secure and not as nervous as I feel.
He doesn’t say anything so I stand, disappointed, and round the couch, heading for the door. I’m about to open it when I feel a hand wrap around my wrist followed by a gruff, “Wait. Don’t go. I want you to work for me. I’m just not used to having someone else help me with my work.”
He pulls me close, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as he asks, “Stay for dinner.”
“Okay,” I say, staring up at him and finding his chocolate brown eyes swimming with warmth. “But you’re going to have to give me more to do tomorrow; just being here to keep you company isn’t something I want paid for.”
“I promise I’ll give you more responsibility.”
“How do you feel about sushi for dinner?” he asks, leading me back towards the living room.
“Perfect,” I say, hoping I’m not making a huge mistake by agreeing to stay.