Blowing out a sigh, I decide that it is a workday and I have a job to do. I drop onto the chair in front of his desk and inhale deeply.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he begins, and my eyes grow wide because I fear that we have circled back to inappropriate again, and he senses it and grins. “Work. I’m talking about work,” he reaffirms.
“Right, of course.”
“Narrowing down candidates to replace Charles for the COO position is a lot of work. As much as I would promote internally, I’m not sensing anyone suitable. I’m left no choice but to search externally. I’ve thrown out some feelers in my network. When it comes time for interviews, I’m going to need your help. You see the tiny details, you’ve worked with Charles and know his day-to-day running better than anyone. Therefore, I’m relying on you to give input on candidates. The board will have to be involved at some point fordecision-making, and that is a headache I need organized as well.”
“Oh.”I’m pleasantly surprised; I assumed I would have no part in this responsibility. Hiring a significant role within a corporation involves directors, not me. However, what he says makes sense. “It never crossed my mind, however, I would love to give input.”
“Great. Not many personal assistants add value to the process.”
Another 180. My face must show how I feel about his brazen comment. “Oh? We are notjustassistants.”
He holds his hand up. “That’s not…” His face contorts when he probably replays his comment in his head. “What I meant is that you have a lot going for you with your experience and degree and all.”
“Are you actually giving me a compliment?” Today is a full moon, it has to be.
His mouth stretches into a grin. “I guess I am.”
I can’t hide the smile because I appreciate the praise. “Thank you. Anything else?”
He shakes his head, and his grin stays put. “Not now.”
I nod and stand, walking away with a little more pep in my step and my earlier fury now buried.
“Oh, wait,” he calls out.
I turn halfway. “Yes?”
“I need you for Saturday’s gala.”
“Uh… why?” It’s a personal event on his calendar.
Julian doesn’t look up from his laptop. “In case someone comes along with an interest in clawing their way into a conversation about the vacant company role, and you have a sixth sense about it. Or I simply forget someone’s name, and you can remind me.”
I’m severely doubting his spiel. “Again, why?”
He glances up, and his eyes, which have a different glint today, bullet straight into me. “I assume you have a dress, as you have been to company events before.”
“Okay, you’re avoiding my question. This isn’t exactly a company event. And yes, I do have a dress. Shall I meet you there, or would you like to track me by my phone as a good stalker does?” I list, and it causes the corner of his mouth to lift in humor.
“It doesn’t matter what kind of event it is. Great about the dress, ensure it keeps straying eyes off you if we can. My PA is kindly requested to join. And no tracker, I’m not that crazy, and it really was a coincidence with the app. I’ll pick you up,” he answers in order.
“I’ll meet you there. It means I can avoid travel time with you on my weekend.”
“So be it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, rolling my lips as I debate in my head how to evaluate this situation. Something is underlying, and I have a feeling it’s due to our sexual tension. We have unusual banter that borders on flirtation. Our breathing around one another is different, too.
My curiosity about him runs deep, and it’s threatening.
A dress for straying eyes? Well, that might kill him.“Of course, I’ll go to the gala.”
I smile widely with satisfaction at the possibilities for driving him crazy.
11
JULIAN
