5. Chapter 5
Jasmine
Iswallow down the breath caught in my throat as my eyes land on the man whose file I’ve been going through on my first day on the job—Dario Caruso.
The number of businesses he owns and the success he’s achieved doesn’t come as a surprise now that I see him standing in the lobby.
He’s not the type of man who has to try to command a room. He simply does.
The sunlight streams through the windows as though it’s one of the accessories he threw on for the day. Beams of light catch his dark hair, which is styled enough to look like he didn’t put much effort into it, but was probably professionally done by a team of artists this morning.
His shirt is open at the collar, buttons undone to reveal a chiseled chest and a tease of dark ink.
The crisp, white fabric is tucked into a pair of cream linen trousers that look like they were purchased straight from the runway, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, displaying thick, corded arms. The contrast between his dark features and the light outfit makes him look like a fallen angel.
When my eyes scan back up his body, I can’t help but note the sharp jawline shadowed with enough stubble to leave you remembering how he feels between your legs.
His mouth pulls into a smile that could easily ruin someone, but it’s his dark eyes that are the most dangerous.
They’re sharp. They’re knowing. And they’re staring directly at me.
I make my way across the lobby and extend my hand. “Mr. Caruso, it’s very nice to meet you. My name is Jasmine Baker, and I’m the newest member of your counsel.”
He takes my proffered hand, his bourbon eyes reminding me of home as they sear into mine. With a gentle twist, he places a kiss over the crest of my knuckles. Then, in the most panty-melting voice I’ve ever heard, he says, “It’s so nice to meet you, Miss Baker.”
If I had one of those computers from the eighties movie where I’d strap a bra on my head to create the perfect specimen, this man is what I would bring to life, and that’s a big, big problem.
I blink at where our hands are still connected, silently reminding myself that I’m a fucking professional and he is my client.
These flips my stomach is doing, the flutters my heart is making, and the dampness between my thighs all have to stop. Abruptly.
I compose myself, forcing a professional smile and narrowing my eyes at his stupid, handsome face.
Rolling my shoulders backward, my tits are thrust out, and when his eyes land on my cleavage, I yank my hand away from his grasp and cross my arms to cover myself.
This man needs to know I have boundaries.
“I was just taking a look at your extensive file, Mr. Caruso. There are several real estate transactions, a few trusts that have been created, and your everyday run-in with small businesses trying to fight their way against a conglomerate such as yours. Tell me, are the sexual harassment suits all hidden? Does someone else handle those? Or do you pay people hush money to keep your filthy name out of their mouths?”
His jaw tightens before it drops wide open at my accusation.
Clearly, this man isn’t used to being called out.
“Excuse me?” he asks, his chocolate eyes narrowing.
“Why in the world would you think my family’s company would have any sort of allegations such as sexual harassment?
” His last couple of words are a harsh whisper.
With a roll of my eyes, I release an exasperated sigh. “My first impression was of you fawning over our receptionist. And that kiss you pressed against my skin? It was non-consensual.”
“For now,” he says with a smile and a wink that tells me this man is used to getting exactly what he wants.
“Forever, Mr. Caruso. Trust me when I say there will never be a day when I will ever consent to your lips on my body.”
Even though I have no doubt they would feel so damn good.
His eyes blaze as he stares me down, but after a momentary face-off, Dario Caruso snorts and doubles over in laughter. A cacophony of deep, throaty chuckles fills the lobby, and I glance around to see if anyone else is witnessing his moment of hysteria.
After drawing the attention of several people, Dario sucks in a breath and attempts to regain his composure.
“Which one of those sons of bitches put you up to this? Gio? Luca? It had to be Gio, didn’t it?
Despite his many talents, Luca isn’t particularly mean.
I swear, and people call me the Joker.” The daft man’s smile is wide, but I don’t return it.
“Gio and Luca Caruso? Your brothers? I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting them yet, but if they’re available and take things more seriously than you, I would be more than happy to wait and meet with either of them.”
I turn away from him and head to the elevators to return to my office, where I’m safe from the unseriousness and handsomeness of my client. Calling over my shoulder, I say, “When you’ve managed to get a grip and want to actually talk about business, schedule an appointment.”
When I step into the elevator, I push the button and watch as the doors slowly converge. A strong hand cuts between them before they can close, opening back up to reveal Dario standing there.
“You’re just leaving?”
I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t aware you had anything of value to say.”
“I really need to speak with you regarding an acquisition we would like to make.” He licks his lips, and I hate myself for wondering what they taste like.
With a huff, I reply, “Be here first thing in the morning.”
His smile is wide and so utterly perfect that I have to remind the hussy inside me about my strict ban on fraternizing with clients. “It’s a date, Miss Baker.”
“It’s not a date,” I say as he removes his hand and the doors close.
It’s a meeting with my client.
It is most certainly not a date.
Anna
Jaz, tell us about your first day!
I smile down at the text from my friend even though sadness spreads through my chest. The four of us used to be inseparable, and now our moments together are few and far between. Thank goodness for technology, or my days here would be lonelier than they’ve already been.
Jasmine
It was the first day, so it was more socializing than actual working.
Penny
You love socializing so much.
I can hear the sarcasm from miles away. Peopling isn’t something I’m particularly skilled at or fond of doing.
Jasmine
It wasn't awful, I guess.
Skyla
Did you socialize with any hot men?
My mind can’t help but think of one particularly and frustratingly handsome client of mine I met.
Jasmine
Unfortunately.
Penny
What does that mean?
Jasmine
He's annoyingly attractive. He's also a client.
Anna
So, tell us about this very attractive client.
Jasmine
There isn't much to tell. He's hot. He's a client. The end.
Penny
What do you mean?
Jasmine
The man is hotter than a two-dollar pistol. Italian. Sinful. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Well dressed.
Skyla
Well, you know what they say…
Anna
What do they say?
Skyla
Every girl's crazy about a sharp-dressed man.
Jasmine
Only ZZ Top says that.
Penny
If I recall, you do like your men a bit high maintenance, Jaz.
Jasmine
Let's clarify. He's not my man. He is my client.
Anna
Why can't he be both?
Jasmine
That's definitely an ethical violation.
Skyla
Lame [sends GIF of Adam Sandler giving a thumbs down]
Anna
How else are you going to meet people if you don’t do anything but work?
Jasmine
Do you really think you’re one to give me dating advice, Mrs. I-Don’t-Know-My-Husband’s-Last-Name?
The messages cease after that comment, and I toss my phone on my bed, frustrated by my low blow to my sensitive friend.
I can’t stand the way Anna and Skyla push the love bullshit.
Penny seems to be my only ally in that department since she’s been strongly oppositional toward the male species for years now.
I throw myself onto the bed, face down, immediately regretting it.
While the provided furniture is functional, it’s not particularly to my taste with its overly floral design.
Also, I have the mattress from hell. The sooner I can find a reputable mattress retailer and get a new one, the better.
My phone begins to buzz, and I groan as Penny’s name dances across it.
“Hello?” I grunt.
“That was pretty fucking rude.”
I groan, “I know. I didn’t mean it.”
I mean, I kind of did. She seriously marries a random man she met on a plane, then refuses to speak to him after he tries to apologize for being gone the next morning? What advice could Anna possibly give me?
“You need to tell her that.”
“Fine.”
“Now,” Penny demands.
“Fine!” I say again, only this time I shout it and hang up. I don’t exactly care for being told what to do.
I find Anna’s name under my favorites and hit “call.” My stomach flips as I consider that maybe this time I lashed out too hard and she won’t accept my apology. These women are everything to me. Sure, I still have my parents and my moronic brother, but they don’t understand me like my girls do.
“Hello?” Anna’s sweet, twangy voice answers.
“Hey, Anna. Listen, I’m so sorry for what I said. It wasn’t okay.”
She sniffles, and I curse myself for making my best friend cry. “Maybe not, but it was true.”
I sigh, hurting for my friend. “Anna, you may not have known his last name, but you knew how he treated you. You knew how you felt about him.”
“I know I’m a poor judge of character.”
“Which I’m so grateful for,” I tease. “Who else is going to put up with me?”
She laughs, and it eases the tension somewhat. “I love you, Jaz, and I know some strong man is going to find you one day and love you, too.”
“I don’t need a man.”
“No,” Anna agrees, “but I bet some man needs you.”
“I love you, Anna. I really am sorry,” I say, feeling a tug at my heart that only my closest friends seem to manage.
“I know you are, Jaz. I love you, too. Goodnight.”
After hanging up, I make my way to the bathroom and go through my nightly routine before crawling into bed on the hard-as-concrete mattress.
I toss and turn for an hour before deciding I might need some sweet vibrations to help lull me to dreamland.
I pull my trusty toy out of the drawer, and I only slightly hate myself for imagining a gorgeous Italian man as it does its job.