Chapter 1 #3
"Hey, Melissa," Leo greets the customer, and she smirks at him. "Eli, this is Emily. She's our new receptionist, starting tomorrow."
"Hmmm," Eli acknowledges vaguely, a deep rumble, concentration unbroken.
He's got his back to me, so all I can see is that, even sitting down, he's a giant of a guy, muscular as all get-out and maybe even taller than Leo. His hair is long, mostly straight, reaching halfway down his back. It’s almost black, shiny, and luxurious in that way men’s long hair often is.
I couldn’t get mine looking like that without industrial amounts of expensive conditioner.
My own hair is dyed blonde and looking dull, with easily two inches of regrowth, and in sore need of a trip to a salon.
I make a mental note to ask Sadie for a recommendation for a local hairdresser.
Leo sighs dramatically and shrugs. "I think that's the best we're gonna get from him," he says to me with a shrug, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
"He's too busy concentrating on my thighs," Melissa says smugly. Snap decision: I don't like her. But I smile politely at her anyway. I'm well-versed in hiding my true thoughts and feelings, and pretending someone isn't making me grit my teeth in distaste.
"I hear you, Leo, I'm just in the middle of something right now," Eli mutters wryly, and oh my god.
That voice...it's like honey and locusts, a stunning, deep Cajun drawl that makes me think of bayous and Mardi Gras and good jazz and jambalaya.
He sounds like Gambit from the X-Men cartoons, but deeper.
Gambit was always my favourite. It's toe curling, and completely out of place in a British seaside town, even one as cosmopolitan as Foxton-On-Sea.
Leo raises an eyebrow comically. Melissa's jaw tenses very slightly and she scowls, as though he shouldn't be speaking to anyone else if he's not making conversation with her.
"Nice to meet you, Emily, and I'm glad you're here," Eli says without turning his back. He’s the third person to say that to me in quick succession.
How hard have they been struggling without a receptionist?
"Y-you too," I say as we leave. After I speak, Eli starts to turn, but then Leo is showing me out, so I still don't get a look at his face. I realise as I leave that “you, too” could be taken to mean either it’s nice to meet him, too – which was what I meant – or that I am glad he is there, which is weird.
I eyeroll inwardly. Typical doofy Emily.
"So, apart from Dean, that's the team," Leo says as he shows me back through to the reception area.
Having heard Eli talk, Leo sounds a lot more English by comparison.
“Can you be here by 9:30 tomorrow? Be good to get an earlier start to show you a few things before the customers come.” Right on cue, two girls who look to be in their early twenties walk in, giggling and taking furtive looks at him.
"Hey, there, ladies. Here for your appointment with me?
" he asks one of them with a wicked smirk playing around his lips.
He clearly knows full well the effect he has on people.
One of them nods, and the giggling continues.
Jeez Louise. Can't blame them, though. He's the sort of man you find on the cover of MC romance novels: built, with long hair, tattoos, and eyes that slay.
He raises that eyebrow at me. “9:30 OK?” Woops, I haven’t responded!
“Sure,” I say hurriedly, quickly getting my mind back on track.
It’ll be nice to have a boss who’s bona fide eye candy, but it’s not like I would do anything about it, and he certainly wouldn’t.
He’s so far out of my league that it’s not even funny.
And in all honesty, even aside from that, I’m not truly interested in starting anything with anyone, not so soon after…
Nope, not going to think about it.
“Great. That’ll let me make a start on showing you the ropes before we open. It’s really not the most complicated job in the world. You just need to look after us and keep us all in line.” He smiles at me. “See you tomorrow, Emily, and thanks for coming in.”
“No problem, thank - thank you,” I manage.
Even if he’s just desperate for anyone to fill the role, he’s been really nice and welcoming, and I resolve to do a really good job and not to let him down.
“See you tomorrow.” I walk through the door and damn near float back home. I have a job. Problem solved.
Eli
I wander out to the waiting room just as the door closes behind the new receptionist. I can't see her face through the glass door, just the back of her head as she walks quickly away. For some reason this irritates me. I just missed her when I turned my head in my studio.
I probably should have been more polite. Made with the pleasant conversation. We really need to keep this one sweet, so she stays longer than a month. I feel oddly guilty for not at least looking her in the eye when I welcomed her on board. Hmm. I’ll make nice when she’s next in.
Leo turns back and blinks when he sees me standing there.
Normally, once I've started a piece, only an emergency can drag me away.
My concentration on my work is absolute.
I'm not really sure what made me wander out here.
The girls in the waiting room were giggling like children as I walked in, but now they're just staring.
"That was a stroke of luck, eh," he comments.
I nod slowly. "Just do us all a favor and don't fuck this one," I say with a warning look. The waiting room goes silent. I will strangle him if he messes this up for us again. I’m not good on the front desk. I don’t like answering the phone. I don't like greeting people. I don’t like turning down appointments because I’m too busy playing receptionist to do my actual job.
He rolls his eyes. "One time I did that - "
"Please, frère. Not just one time. It’s practically your MO.
And look what it did to us," I point out, quite reasonably in my opinion.
Leo shakes his head. He has no right to be so affronted.
We've been struggling for the past two weeks because Leo screwed our last receptionist on a whim and then didn't declare his undying love to her afterwards.
Same thing happened with the receptionist before her.
And the one before her, come to think of it.
"I don't want to have to do that job anymore, do you?
" He huffs. "Exactly. Leave this one alone. "
I wander back to Melissa, who, despite me pointedly ignoring her come-ons, still doesn't seem to understand that it doesn’t matter how many times she asks me out for a drink, or how much she wheedles and cajoles and lowers her neckline, I'm still going to say 'no' because I'm just not interested in dating her.
Or anyone.
Regardless of how lonely I may ever get, that door needs to stay firmly closed and locked.