18. Cole
EIGHTEEN
COLE
When the email with my travel arrangements down to my father’s resort came through, Kaia happened to be knocking on my office door. I waved her in and listened to the clip-clop of her heels on the floor as she approached my desk.
“We’re all set for the retreat,” she said. “Carrie’s got the catering in hand, but she’ll have to head down a day early to meet with the new caterers. She’ll be on the same flight as you in the morning.”
“Fine,” I said. I was heading down early to meet with my father. He’d requested my presence for a round of golf tomorrow morning, which was his way of saying he wanted to talk to me about something important. He hadn’t elaborated. It was probably business related, something he wanted to get passed by the board that would require my input. Half the board was in my father’s pocket, but the other half of the members were holdovers from a merger that had happened before my time at the company. They were prone to dissent, even when it was in their best interests not to. It was important that they were wined and dined and made to feel special. “Are the new caterers up to speed all the dietary requirements for the meals? Sanders is on that low-sodium diet.”
“I can confirm with Carrie, but I believe she’s handling it,” Kaia said. “She’s been an asset so far.”
I grunted, agreeing. Once I’d gotten over the shock of seeing her, I’d realized how good she was at her job. My various travel itineraries had been flawless since she’d taken over. She’d even come up with an optimized route to LA with a chartered flight that cut my travel time by two hours and allowed me to fly in comfort. It was marginally more expensive than the first-class commercial flights I’d been booking before, but the time savings were worth it. She brought the proposal to me and when I approved it, said she’d work on the rest of my usual flight routes.
If I’d had any doubts about her competence, they’d been obliterated this past month. I knew that beneath the professional veneer, she had a sharp tongue and a fiery personality—but I hadn’t seen any of it since the fender bender that had happened when we were picking up the wedding invitations.
I missed it.
Kaia jotted down a note on her tablet. “The only other thing I need from you is confirmation about the final night’s dinner entertainment. Their quote was over budget by twelve percent.”
“Approved,” I said.
“Excellent. If that’s all, I’ll see you at the resort tomorrow evening. Have a good night, Mr. Christianson.” She nodded and walked out of the office. I watched her disappear, finished up a few things on my computer, then headed home.
The next morning, a car was waiting outside my building. Alba would be joining me later—she had to meet with the wedding planner to go over some details with the venue—so I slid into the back seat of the waiting vehicle expecting to be alone.
Carrie sat beside me, a purse resting on her knees. She wore black pants that stretched tight around her hips, along with a crisp white shirt that was all professionalism. Her hair was tied back in a French twist, with not a strand out of place. She looked buttoned-up and completely appropriate. Her lips weren’t pursed, but they weren’t soft, either. Her eyes were guarded.
Nothing about her said sex.
Nothing, except her shoes. Her heels were black with a pointed tip. I could just see the base of her toes before they disappeared into the shoe. Toe cleavage. She had toe cleavage.
And it turned me on.
My mouth went dry. I clipped my seatbelt on and nodded to her, pretending that the sight of her feet didn’t twist me into knots. My mind conjured up images of her on a hotel bed, her back arched, her eyes glazed with ecstasy.
I banished the image.
I had to get a grip. This was getting ridiculous.
Yes, she was an attractive woman. Yes, I’d seen her naked. Yes, everything I’d learned about her over the past month only made my respect for her grow. She had a sharp intellect. She was driven. She was good at a job that was often thankless, that offered no glory.
But she wasn’t for me, and I wasn’t for her. Nothing had changed, toe cleavage or not.
“Carrie,” I said in greeting.
“Cole,” she replied. “Good morning. Kaia told me that you wanted to review the new caterers’ details on the trip down.”
I nodded, but what I really wanted to do was drag her across the back seat so she’d straddle my lap. I wanted to unbutton every one of those little ivory buttons lining her front and see the blush sweep all the way down her chest.
I wanted her the way I’d had her seven years ago.
“We can wait until we board the jet,” I told her, voice slightly gravelly. I did want to review the details about the food, but I wouldn’t be able to focus right now. Not when she was so close, when I hadn’t had a chance to pull myself together.
We had the entire trip to go over her work. That meant at least four hours together, all told. The catering details would take twenty minutes to go over, at most.
I gritted my teeth and braced myself for the journey ahead.