“Oh, sorry, I can’t. I have plans with a girlfriend of mine. Maybe another day?” I ask him.
He nods his head, unbothered, as he looks back down at his laptop, reaching for the case and pulling out a pair of rectangular, black glasses. He slides them onto his face as he peers at his screen. I try to ignore the way those glasses have completely escalated his attractiveness. “Certainly. Not a problem. Well, go on then and get to work. Just because it’s my first day does not mean I’m going to let you off easy, Ms. Palmer.”
“Of course, Theo.” I grin back, picking up on his teasing tone, and waltz out of his office.
The rest of our morning passes smoothly; even more smoothly than I could have wished for. Mr. Hurst and I review all the outstanding tasks that Mr. Peterson had left unfinished. We go over expectations of what Theo prefers I take care of and what things I can delegate to the others underneath me. So far, the transition is going flawlessly for day one.
As I watch him slowly fit into the role of CEO, all Ican think about is that first impression and the pink, leather notebook sitting on my desk at home. I try not to focus on how within a few minutes—seconds—he had checked the first thing off of that silly, “Perfect Man” list, but it’s no use.
Number 10: Handsome as Sin
Theo sits me down and runs through his agenda of what he’d like to do with the company in the first year. I’m impressed that he’s so prepared and has so many new fresh ideas. He aims to take the company to new heights, while still maintaining the integrity of the legacy that Mr. Peterson developed. As he outlines these things, I can’t help but feel like he was exactly the right choice for this position.
He is exactly what this company needs to lead us into the future.
And as I get to spend more time with him today, a secret part of me can’t help but wonder if he is exactly whatIneed, too.
Theo
“Good morning, Mr. Hurst,”my assistant, Whitney, announces the minute I walk into her line of vision from the elevators. She’s sitting behind her desk and giving me a wide smile that makes my stomach flip like I’m back in middle school, talking to a pretty girl for the first time.
My mind instantly flashes to the way that lacy bra of hers peeked through her soaked shirt on my first day. Jesus, what an entrance. I don’t think that’s something I’ll be forgetting anytime soon.
Get it together, Hurst.
“Ms. Palmer,” I greet her with a grin, unable to help myself at the way she rolls her eyes and smirks. We agreed on first names, but I can’t seem to help myself from teasing her. I enjoy the way she beams at me when I get playful. “How are you doing this morning?”
I’ve only been here for a week, but we seem to have established our morning routine. I walk in, she greets me with a bright smile that always seems to give me a weird reaction,which I choose to ignore, I ask her how she’s doing, playing it cool, and then we begin our day.
“Wonderful, as always,” she chirps. I find it intriguing how she’s always so energetic in the mornings. My last assistant at my old business was top-of-the-line, but it usually took her a few hours and at least three cups of coffee in the morning to find her groove. But not Whitney.
I think this woman wakes up ready and excited to work every morning. I find it a very attractive quality, since I, myself, tend to keep a motivated attitude.Or at least, I try to.
“Can I get you any coffee?” she asks just as I cross the threshold of my office. I stop and turn back to her, holding up the blue travel mug in my hand that she must not have seen.
“I’m all set, thank you,” I tell her. She nods again and glances at her schedule.
“Don’t forget, we have the board meeting today over lunch. I believe it’s catered.”
I look up at the ceiling. Oh yes, the wonderful board meeting. So far, they have been less than accommodating to me and very resistant to accept me as the new CEO. I’m guessing this meeting today is to discuss the next phase of transitioning over to my business model, and it will likely go less than perfectly.
I shoot Whitney a tight smile. “I can’t wait.” Her lips twitch, and I know she picks up on my sarcasm. Still slightly smirking, she goes back to tapping on her keyboard. I stare at her a moment longer before walking back into my office. I can’t deny there is just something about Whitney Palmer that intrigues me.
Our day gets started without a hitch. I answer a few emails and hop on a phone conference call after Whitney lets me know the other participants are on the line. After I hang up, I start pouring over some of these reports, which is the perfect way to set off my irritation right from the get go.
The deeper and deeper I get into the financials and the past reports, the more I want to pull out my hair. There are too many things not adding up when I put two and two together. I hate to suspect the worst, but given the notebook of accounts I wanted to double-check or triple-check, it was hard to keep myself from veering in that direction. I’m not sure yet what scheme Vance Peterson was up to, but it wasn’t good. I am going to figure it out, but I suspect it will still take a while until I have fully unearthed everything he had potentially buried. And that is a scary thought. My brother Chase will be eventually joining the company as the chief financial officer, and I can’t wait to let him take over this issue. He’s much better at numbers than I am and he’ll get to the bottom of it.
When lunchtime rolls around and my nerve endings are fully frayed from staring at problems that don’t make sense, I saunter out of my office towards Whitney’s desk feeling a wave of ease settle over me when she comes into my line of vision.
She glances up at me and then looks back at her email. “Are you ready for your board meeting?” she asks.
I lean against the edge of her desk and stick my hands in my pockets. “Honestly, I’ve never been so excited to sit in a stuffy room full of old people in my life.”
Her blue eyes fly up to me, and she laughs under her breath. “You’ve got jokes today.”
“Gotta keep it interesting,” I say with a wink. Her cheeks color, and she looks back to her computer.
Her fingers fly over the keys, and her eyes narrow in on something on her screen. Finally, she reaches for the mouse and then clicks into standby mode. Then, with a bright smile, she gathers the stack of notebooks and folders sitting on the edge of her desk, neatly organized.
