“I’d hoped to save your colleagues the interruption, Ms. Schlossberg. I’ll leave you to explain my early arrival and departure. Have a good day.”
He offers a brief greeting to everyone as he heads to the door. We’re all left staring at his back. His very broad back that tapers into a perfect triangle. How many times have I thought about his shoulders? Far too many fucking times.
I think even my eyelashes are tired. I was up all night working on the stupid fucking numbers for Heidemann BioTech. I spoke to my father, who watched the entire meeting from his office a floor above mine. We have cameras in the conference room, so he can observe without being present. It hardly thrilled him, buthe accepted my limitations and appreciated how I diffused the situation. He understands Jorge backed me into a corner. He’s sent me lunch, dinner, and breakfast since he knows I’ve been here since yesterday morning.
The last document’s printing, so I’m headed to the C Suite bathroom that includes a shower. My sister brought me clothes an hour ago on her way to work. I grab the toiletries I keep here, and the garment bag and head down the hall.
“Anne?”
I stop and look over my shoulder at Johan, who’s hurrying toward me.
“Ja.”
“HerrDiaz just called. He said he’ll be here in fifteen minutes.” Mister.
“What the ever-loving fuck?”
Johan jerks back, his eyes wide. I never swear in front of my employees, even if I swear up a storm in my head. Jorge’s brought it out in me twice. I glance at my watch and realize it’s nearly noon. It’s way later than I expected. My sister was here nearly three hours ago not an hour. I had my office door shut and blinds closed all morning, so nothing would distract me, and people knew not to knock. I thought it was around nine not eleven forty-five.
“Show him to the conference room. I should be ready just before he arrives.”
My hair will be wet, but I’ll be there. I dash into the bathroom, already unbuttoning my blouse’s cuffs. I hang the garment bag as I work the buttons down the front. I strip faster than I ever have and jump in the shower. The water’s barely warm before I’m done. It’s one of the fastest showers I’ve ever taken. I brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair before pulling it into a French braid.
I wrap the long part into a bun at my nape. I force myself to calm before applying my eyeliner. My hand is a little shakier than I’d like, but I get my eye makeup on without fucking up. I hurry to put my blush on before spraying perfume and putting on deodorant. I’m still a little damp across my back—didn’t I towel off completely or am I sweating in my haste?—so my top sticks to me as I tug it down. I pull on my trousers and slip on my shoes as I fasten my pants. I collect my belongings, toss the towels in the basket, and head out.
I slip into my office as I watch Jorge enter the conference room just like he did yesterday. I ditch my bags and struggle into my suit coat. I’m a fucking hot mess. I snatch the stack of papers off the printer and grab my laptop—which is working today.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Schlossberg.”
Jorge extends his hand as I shuffle things in my arms, so I can return the handshake. I can feel the restrained strength. He could crush mine if he wanted; instead, he returns my firm grip with one that matches. Not too hard, not too soft. Just right.
I’m fucking Goldilocks.
Papa Bear.
Where the fuck did that thought just come from?
Lack of sleep because he’s an asshole whose demands caused me to stay at my desk all night.
“Hello, Mr. Diaz. Let me spread out these papers, and you can review them at your leisure.”
One of the junior assistants, Alex, knocks on the open door and sticks in his head. “Tee oder Kaffee, Herr Diaz?”
We’ve been speaking English, but the question is easy enough to understand that I don’t bother interpreting.
“Water, please.”
He didn’t stick around long enough yesterday for Alex to bring anything. The young man has a fire under his ass as he hurries to the office kitchen. I don’t know if Alex is Jorge’s type,but it’s obvious Jorge is his. The man practically drooled. I hope he doesn’t get any in my tea.
When I shift my attention back to Jorge, he’s watching me rather than Alex. His intense gaze makes me want to squirm. When he smiles, my panties want to drop. Good thing I’m wearing a snug thong. He’s so fucking gorgeous. His charcoal suit, steel gray shirt, and cobalt tie look like they were each made just for him. His suit is impeccably tailored, and he’s freshly shaven. His hair isn’t gelled, but it stays in place as though it doesn’t dare defy the style he combed. I feel barely put together considering I was still in the shower like five minutes ago.
As I set out the documents, Alex arrives with the drinks. Johan enters to take notes, and the VP of Accounting, VP of Development, and CFO arrive on his heels. I sense more than see Jorge stiffen.
“Hallo.” He steps forward and shakes the two women’s and one man’s hands.
Our CFO, Brunhilde, is a battleax just like her name implies. I got a pissed off email from her this morning about Jorge backing out of the deal. She didn’t blame me, but she made it clear she expects me to fix it. She’s thirty years older than me and remembers when I was still in pigtails. Usually, she’s more deferential, but sometimes, I think she still sees me as that little girl. She definitely squeezes Jorge’s hand harder than the rest of us did. He just smiles wider at her.
Except it’s not the same smile he’s given me. It doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s a coldness to them now that wasn’t there when it was just the two of us. He’s retreated like he did yesterday when the partners arrived. I don’t get it, and I don’t have time to.
