“And would you like me to speak freely or only when you ask me direct questions?”
“What? I don’t understand the question?” He comes to a stop and reaches out to touch my shoulder to pull me to a stop, too. “What are you asking?”
“In previous positions, I was not allowed to speak to the larger clients and could only answer direct questions asked by one of my superiors, addressing the superior and not the client,” I explain. “Is that how you would prefer to conduct this meeting?”
He scoffs as though I’ve said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.
“Kayla, you arebrilliantat what you do. I’ve only worked with you for a week, and I can already see how sharp and fucking valuable you are to this company. Even if you want to interrupt me, or the client, to say something you feel is important, you go right ahead and do it. I asked you to join me because, honestly, you could probably convince the client to increase the budget without me in the room. Because I trust you in there, okay? Literally anything you want to add to the conversation—don’t hold back. Make suggestions. Tell me I’m wrong.”
His eyes pierce into me.He trusts me with his biggest client.This knowledge stirs my emotions.
In the past, I’ve worked under some egotistical superiors who were hellbent on taking credit for my work and presenting it as their own, which is why I wasn’t allowed to speak freely. But I learned to accept it for what it was. I earned good money. The knowledge I gained was invaluable. I grew my reputation and my skill.
And when the time was right, I started stepping out of their shadows and growing even more. Everything in life is about timing.
But here Josiah is, handing me all the freedom I could ever dream of in my career.
He’s pushing me up, not holding me down.
And all I can manage to mutter is, “Oh.”
“Oh?” He chuckles. “Is that your acknowledgement of what I said?”
I stammer for a moment, tripping over my words. “Sorry, I meant…I really appreciate that. Thank you,” I say, my professional demeanor firmly back in place.
“Good,” he nods, satisfied.
He places his hand on my lower back and pushes me towards the boardroom.
My heart is racing, not only because of the meeting, but also because of his touch.
Dammit, Kayla, focus. This is ridiculous.
***
An hour later, I’m shaking hands with Mr. Carter. He has a firm grip and a massive smile on his face as he turns to Josiah. “This one is a keeper. We want her managing our new budget.”
“I’m already having the files moved to her desk,” he jokes.
“Excellent. Kayla, it was an absolute pleasure to meet you. We look forward to the next meeting in three months to review the new report.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, too, Mr. Carter. And you, Jackson,” I smile at his assistant.
“You must give me your number,” Jackson says, “just in case I have questions…about the account, of course,” he grins.
Josiah steps forward, positioning himself between Jackson and me in a move that I intuitively read as being possessive.
“Not to worry, you can reach either of us via my assistant, Bianca,” he informs Jackson curtly.
Jackson is a good-looking man in his thirties. He has a gorgeous smile and a friendly, open face.
But I have given Josiah no reason to pull some kind of possessive move like this. Besides, what right does he have to be possessive of me? He’s my husbandonlybecause he forced the paperwork on me. Apart from a scribble on a page, it means nothing.
I decide to ignore his strange behavior, and after saying goodbye to the clients, I head back to my desk with a smile on my face.
Josiah follows behind me.
“Jackson does not need your number,” he informs me.
