Chapter 8 #2
Miles: When something intrigues you, you can’t stop playing with it until you figure it out. You pretended to have a stomach virus so you could stay home from school and solve it.
Sutton: Well, hopefully this puzzle is as easily solved, because I got bored with the Rubik’s Cube after I made all six sides into solid colors.
Miles: Something tells me that man is neither easily solvable nor a toy you’ll get bored with.
HR videos weren’t the most exciting things to watch, but it seemed to take forever for one o’clock to arrive.
When it finally did, I stopped in the ladies’ room to freshen up—like I would for any lunch meeting.
Sure, tell yourself whatever you want, Sutton.
Then I rode the elevator downstairs. The car was packed, and people got off and on at every floor, making the nerves I already felt fray a little more as the seconds ticked by.
Though the sight of Jagger Langston looking at his watch, impatiently waiting in the lobby, made me want to stay on the elevator and ride it up and down again.
It probably wasn’t a good thing that I felt a strange urge to make the CEO of the company bristle.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the lobby.
Jagger’s head turned, and his eyes immediately latched on me.
He watched each step of my approach as if there weren’t two hundred other people moving about in the busy lobby.
He didn’t seem to notice the half-dozen women whose heads turned as they passed him.
The man was truly breathtaking—put a fountain around him, and he’d have more visitors than a Michelangelo.
“Hi,” I said. “Sorry I’m late. The elevator stopped at every floor.”
“The stairs are quicker at this time of day.”
“Stairs? You work on the fifty-ninth floor.”
“Where I spend too much time sitting.” Jagger’s hand settled on the small of my back, and he steered me through the lobby without another word.
Outside, a uniformed driver leaned against a silver Maybach.
When he saw Jagger enter the turnstile, he pushed off and reached for the back door.
But Jagger waved him away. “Downtown, Sam. Seventeenth and Park.”
“Yes, sir. Sure thing.” The driver tipped his hat to me and offered a friendly smile, then quickly jogged around the front of the car and got behind the wheel.
I slid into the backseat first, and Jagger joined me, pulling the door closed behind him. It was a full-size car, but the inside suddenly felt very small. The smell of Jagger’s delicious cologne permeated the air, making it impossible for me to relax.
“How was your morning?” he asked as we pulled away from the curb.
“Fine. And yours?”
He looked outside the window. “Distracting.”
“Oh? Is everything okay?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Jagger’s phone rang. He looked down and frowned. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”
The heated phone call lasted until we pulled up at the restaurant—something about the terms of financing for an investment.
“Sorry about that.” He stuffed his cell into his jacket pocket and told the driver to stay in the car, then got out and offered me his hand.
“Thank you.” I smiled as I slid out.
Tuccio’s must’ve been a frequent stomping ground of his, because the attractive hostess lit up when we walked in, and she quickly routed us to a quiet table in the back without having to be asked.
Jagger again displayed perfect manners by pulling out my chair.
I thought it was interesting how his actions were in stark contrast to the way he seemed to disregard people in the office.
“Can I get you something to drink while you take a look at the daily specials?” The hostess handed us each a leather-bound menu.
Jagger looked to me.
“I’ll have a seltzer with lime, please.”
He nodded. “Same.”
Once she disappeared, I perused the choices. From across the table, I felt Jagger’s gaze searing into me. I tried to ignore it, but eventually I lowered the menu.
“What?”
He squinted. “What?”
“You’re staring at me.”
“You’re sitting across from me. Where would you like me to look?”
“Maybe at the menu?”
There was an unmistakable gleam in his eyes. “I already know what I want.”
“Oh.” I picked the menu back up and tried to go about reading again, but it felt like an impossible task.
My eyes scanned the words, yet I couldn’t seem to absorb anything because my body was too highly conscious of the man sitting a few feet away.
Once again, I lowered the leather book. “What are you having?”
“The grilled salmon.”
My nose wrinkled. “I don’t love fish. Any other recommendations?”
“The blackened chicken Caesar salad is always good.”
“That I can do.”
The minute I set the menu on the table, an attentive waiter came to take our order. When he left, he took the menus with him, and I had nowhere to hide. Jagger’s intense stare made me squirm in my seat.
“So…” I said.
He smirked. I got the feeling he knew I was twisting inside, and damn it if he wasn’t enjoying watching me struggle. I was grateful when he threw me a lifeline by starting the conversation.
“I spoke to Edmund yesterday afternoon. He was happy that I was going to be your mentor. I take it you haven’t mentioned how we first met?”
I shook my head. “Definitely not.”
“Thank you. I value my privacy very much.”
“And I value people not knowing what an idiot I was.”
He smiled. “So tell me what your interests are.”
My pulse quickened. “My interests?”
He chuckled. “Not those interests, Sutton. I’m asking about your career aspirations. This is a mentorship, after all.”
“Oh.” I shook my head, feeling my cheeks heat. “Of course. Sorry.”
Jagger leaned in. “Though if you’d like to share your other interests, I’m open to hearing them. I’m at a bit of an unfair advantage here, considering you know mine.”
“I think you have to actually experience things to figure out what you’re interested in,” I mumbled.
Jagger tapped his finger on the water glass. It looked like he wanted to say something but was in the process of thinking better of it.
I sighed. “Just spit it out.”
He squinted. “What?”
“Whatever you’re holding back. I was thinking about your strategy yesterday—admitting there was an attraction between us in order to move past it.
I think it’s more than an attraction—there’s also a curiosity, at least for me.
Maybe if we both say what we’re thinking or ask about what has us curious, we can move past that too.
A friend recently reminded me that sometimes I get stuck on things I find intriguing.
Perhaps we should go through the middle and stop trying to go around the problem. ”
Jagger studied me. “This is a business meeting, and I’m your boss. Or more precisely, your boss’s boss’s boss.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “Then I quit.”
His brows jumped. “You…quit?”
I nodded. “Now, can we speak freely for five minutes?”
Again I could see the wheels in his head spinning. After a long while, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell. Punching a few buttons, he set it on the table between us. He smirked as he hit the button to start a five-minute timer and held out his hand.
“Ladies first.”
“I can ask anything and you’ll answer?”
He pointed to the ticking clock. “You’re wasting valuable time.”
I exhaled in a rush and nodded. So many questions about this man had swirled in my head over the last few days, but now that I had the opportunity to ask them—I panicked and drew a blank. “I pass. You go first.”
A smile formed on his perfect lips. “Are you still a virgin?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes. Would you have slept with me if I hadn’t told you I had no idea what the app was for and that I was a virgin?”
His gaze was intense. “Absolutely. Why are you still a virgin? Is it a religious thing?”
I smiled. “You’re really hung up on my virginity, huh?”
He practically groaned. “It’s been difficult to think about much else for days.”
I took a moment to let his comment sink in.
But after a few beats, Jagger tapped the side of his phone, reminding me of the rapidly disappearing seconds.
“Right. Sorry. I’m still a virgin because of my ex.
Brendan comes from a super-religious family.
His father is a deacon, so he wanted to wait until marriage.
” I paused. “At least that’s what he told me.
A few months after we broke up, I walked in on him and my stepsister.
So apparently, the issue was more that he didn’t want to have sex with me than he didn’t want to have sex. ”
Jagger’s eyes darkened. “The man is a moron.”
I smiled. “Thank you. He also looked like a jackrabbit on top of her, so at least it doesn’t seem like I missed out on much.”
He smiled. “Your turn.”
“Are you attracted to me?”
“Every time you walk into a room, I lose focus. I don’t remember ever feeling so attracted to someone.”
“Oh. Wow.” I felt my cheeks heat again.
He tilted his head. “And you?”
“You have a mirror, don’t you?”
“Is that your question?”
I shook my head. “No, definitely not. What are you into? Like, BDSM?”
“I’m more into the dominance and discipline aspect of sexual relationships than I am inflicting pain. But I do enjoy a good spanking when one is warranted.”
I shook my head, looking away.
Jagger smiled. “Have you ever been spanked, Ms. Holland?”
“No.” I glanced down at his phone just as the timer dipped under one minute. How could the time have gone so fast?
Fifty-nine.
Fifty-eight.
Fifty-seven.
My insides felt like a shaken bottle of champagne with the top about to pop off. “Have you ever slept with someone you work with?”
The muscle in his jaw tensed. “Yes.”
“Someone who worked for you?”
He held up his index finger and moved it from side to side. “That’s two questions. I believe it’s my turn.”
“Oh, right.”
“Are you still on the prowl, intent to lose your virginity?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘on the prowl’, but yeah… I’d like to get it over with.”
“You deserve much more than getting it over with, Sutton.”
Feeling bold, I tilted my head. “Know anyone available to help me out with that?”
Jagger’s eyes dropped to my lips, then to the cell phone between us.
“Is that your question?”
Twenty-two.
Twenty-one.
Twenty.
Nineteen.
My heart pounded faster. “No.”
“It appears you may only get one more question,” he said. “Make it a good one.”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “Ever sleep with an intern?”
Jagger’s mouth curved to a wicked grin. “Not yet.”