“No, thank you. You can bring in the five most urgent files on top of my list for this week,” I tell her.
She nods and leaves.
“Kayla,” my voice booms from my desk out of the open door.
Kayla immediately glares at me in horror, but she stands and walks into my office, remaining a few feet from my desk with her hands folded in front of her. “Yes, Mr. Belov?”
“I want you to put some time aside in a few moments to take a look at one of the files I’ll be working on today,” I inform her.
“Which file is that?” she asks.
“Plato and Associates,” I tell her.
“I’ve already gone through the file in full over the weekend. Would you like me to send you the report I put together?”
“Mm. Yes, you may bring the report in and go through itwith me,” I insist.
“Very well,” she says stiffly. Kayla turns to leave, then turns back to face me. “If you want to call me into your office, don’t call me like I’m your dog. Use the intercom system on your desk…please.”
Her voice is professional but stern.
The corner of my lip curls up ever so slightly. “Very well,” I agree.
I should leave her to settle in.
It’s her first week here.
She needs time to get used to our routines and methods. But I can’t seem to stop myself from constantly finding reasons to pull her into my office.
I can see it’s getting on her nerves, but somehow, she is maintaining this professional calm about her, even though once or twice I think she wanted to take a hammer to the intercom system on her desk. Eight out of ten times, when it buzzes, it’s me.
Kayla walks into my office with purposeful strides and drops a document onto my desk. She glares at me. “Was thereanything else?” she huffs through clenched teeth.
“Yes, actually,” I muse, enjoying how she’s struggling to maintain the aloof facade as I continue to provoke her and push her buttons.Does she know I’m doing it on purpose? Has she worked it out yet?If she has, she isn’t showing it.
She raises her brows, waiting for me to hurry up and tell her what I want.If only she knew.This whole week so far, I’ve watched her move around the office in those gorgeous dresses. None of them are revealing, not other than being tight. They areprofessional and businesslike. But fuck me, they are all so damn sexy that there have been one of two real occasions where I couldn’t stand up from my desk for a while.
“Yes, uh, I want you to sit down with me over lunch to go through the report you did for Dr. Baker,” I tell her.
“My lunch is my private time, and I expect you to respect that,” she demands.
I chuckle quietly. “So, you never worked through lunch at your other companies?”
“Oh, I worked through lunchall the timeat my other companies,” she says pointedly, glaring at me.
“Very well,” I smirk. “After lunch, then.”
Kayla leaves, and my grin grows wider.
“Kayla,” I call her back just before she manages to escape the office.
She spins around with her lips pressed together, practically rolling her eyes.
“Yes, sir?” she says tightly.
“Did you want a copy of this?” I ask, holding up the document she just handed me.
She takes a moment to compose herself, then speaks slowly, as though I might be lacking in the intelligence department. “Sir, I printed that for you. I am the one with the original document. So, no, I don’t need you to give me a copy of my own document,” she states.
