Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Andrew
The glass doors of the Blake Enterprises offices were unlocked when I arrived shortly before six.
That could only mean one thing. Sofia Rossi had defied me and gotten in before eight.
She seemed to be struggling with the idea that the boss made the rules, and the employee followed them to the letter.
She’d had a shockingly bad day on Friday. At least I was sure now that she’d not been trying to seduce me when she walked into my office half undressed. Listening to her relay the entire sorry tale to Tony at Noble Rot had been the highlight of my week—a fact both disturbing and alluring.
And when she’d realized I’d overheard what she’d been saying about me? Her smooth olive skin had gone bright white.
What she didn’t realize was that I didn’t give a damn what she thought of me. I wasn’t stupid. I already knew, and it was nothing different to what every assistant before her had thought about me—with the exception of Joanna, of course.
I pulled the door open and strode toward my office. I had a lot to do. I’d spent all night strategizing and thinking about Verity. I needed to organize my thoughts and come up with a detailed plan.
As I entered the outer office, Sofia, who was sitting behind her desk, shot to her feet.
“Andrew,” she said.
“I told you not to come in before eight.”
“I wanted to talk to you before twelve. If I’m going to get fired, I’d rather get it over with.”
I ignored her and headed to my office. I didn’t know what she was babbling on about.
Unfortunately, she followed me inside.
I groaned. I needed space. Time. I needed her to get out of here. Why couldn’t she just do as I’d asked?
“So,” she said, standing opposite my desk, her hand on her hip.
I didn’t care what had happened on Friday. I didn’t care about the open blouse, the spilled drink, the character assassination at the bar. None of it.
But despite having regained some focus, it hadn’t stopped me looking at Sofia slightly differently.
Her open blouse had shifted something in me.
Now when I looked at her, I saw an employee but also .
. . a woman. A beautiful woman with a mixture of confidence and elegance that—in my experience—only Italian women could pull off.
I saw a woman who had a fabulous arse and knew it.
I saw a woman who I’d pull onto my lap, spread her legs wide, and torture for hours before feeling her clamp around my fingers and scream my name—if and only if she wasn’t my employee.
But she was.
I cleared my throat and tried to focus on what was happening. “What?”
I turned and hung up my suit jacket, then took a seat before firing up my computer.
“I want to know if you’re going to fire me.”
I sighed. “Why would I fire you?”
Her cheeks were as fire-engine red as they had been on Friday just before she had spilled her drink all down herself. I bet they were that perfect shade just before she came.
Fuck. Had this woman cast a spell on me or something? Why couldn’t she just turn back into flour and yeast and get out of my head? I had to focus. There was a lot to do today.
“I just thought that . . . You know . . . because—”
“Get out,” I snapped. “Don’t disturb me again before midday.”
I needed to push Sofia Rossi to the back of my mind and keep her there. I had more pressing concerns that required all my Thinking Time and focus—like how to go about buying Verity, Inc. and restoring my grandmother’s legacy.