“Woah, woah, woah. Olivia. No. I am truly so terrible at this.” He drops his hand to my knee, giving it a reassuring pat. “I want to promote you. Technically, you already are promoted since I told HR already, so your next check will be more than usual. I got ahead of myself thinking you’d already say yes.”
“Promote me?” I croak with surprise, the emotion still clogged in my throat. “What?” I’m still confused.
“You’re my personal assistant, but I think you deserve more than that. I wanted to promote you to my executive assistant. It comes with a thirty percent raise, and better benefits, but your day might have to be an hour or two longer, and you’ll have half-days every other Friday…”
“Yes!” I throw my arms around his neck to give him a hug. “Are you kidding? I’d love to be your executive assistant.”
He chuckles, patting my back before pulling away. “Good. Sorry I freaked you out, but I didn’t know if you’d say yes or not. Ididn’t want to assume. You can tell that asshole who you went on a date with that you’re making more money than he ever will.”
I snort, snagging my coffee cup again. The warmth seeps into my palm, helping the excitement to calm slightly. “Don’t worry. I will never be seeing him again. He’s blocked. I don’t think I’ll be using that dating app again.”
“Don’t give up. I know dating sucks.”
“What would you know about dating?” I toss a pen at him, narrowing my eyes. “You don’t date, and your wife doesn’t count. You didn’t really even date her.”
He has a faraway look in his eyes, staring off into space with a big lovestruck grin. “That’s true. Well, when you know, you know. I knew with her. I knew from the moment I saw her.”
I fake being disgusted. “Yes, I know. It was love at first sight. Blah, blah, blah. Maybe that’s what happened. You got the last love known to the world.”
He tosses his head back and laughs. “You’re so dramatic. And wrong.” He nudges my knee with his. “You’re young, Olivia. You’ll find Mr. Right.”
“In this economy?” I grumble under my breath.
“What’s happening in the economy?”
Dr. Warrick and I turn to see a very tall and very handsome doctor walk up to my desk. He’s gorgeous. His salt-and-pepper hair has a slight curl to it, giving it a bit of volume. His bright blue eyes land on me, our gazes lock, and my lungs forget how to function. His square jaw tenses, his cheek bones high and sculpted.
The one questionable thing is the bruise he’s sporting on his cheek that spreads up to his eye. Whatever happened, it had to have hurt. I’m curious, but it’s none of my business.
He has slight scruff, similar to Dr. Warrick, which means he hasn’t slept well and hasn’t had a lot of time to himself.
“Dr. Carrington,” my boss greets him, standing and offering him a handshake. “It’s good to see you.”
Dr. Carrington. I’ve heard about him. He’s new to the hospital and is the department head of neurology, the youngest in Warrick General history, I think. That’s very impressive and not easy to do. There are men with years more experience under their belt who would love to have that position.
“You too, Dr. Warrick. Am I interrupting something? I can come back another time.” He lifts the sleeve of his white coat, checking his watch, and that’s when I notice the slightest peek of the swirling art of tattoos. “We can reschedule. I know we said two, but?—”
“Nonsense. You’re right on time. You don’t mind that myexecutiveassistant joins us, do you?”
I snag my notebook and pen, knowing I’m going to be taking notes. If I don’t, Winston Warrick would forget where he worked.
Dr. Carrington looks at me again, an electric current buzzing between us. I have to break eye contact. I glance away, checking the desk for nothing, but I need to keep myself busy. I can’t be caught ogling him in a professional setting.
“I don’t mind at all.” He steps beside me as we walk into the conference room. “Dr. Carrington. My friends call me Elias, though.”
I stare at his hand, afraid to have his palm touch mine, afraid of knowing what I’d feel because even walking next to him, my body yearns for more. More closeness, more touch, and if I give in, if I break the smallest barrier, then I know I’ll want more.
“Is that what we are? Friends?” I tease, daring myself to meet his handshake.
I do. God, I do. I can’t help myself. His hands are large, his fingers long yet powerful as they wrap around mine.
He engulfs me. His hand practically swallows mine, his thumb swiping back and forth across my knuckles, but I could be imagining that. Elias has softer skin that I thought he would. His touch is kind, delicate, firm enough to let me know he holds power, and gentle enough to let me know he wouldn’t use it against me.
I squeeze back, wanting him to know I hold power too.
“It’s nice to meet you, Elias. I’m Olivia.”
“Olivia,” he repeats, as if trying to see what my name tastes like on his tongue.
