With a resigned sigh, I grab my phone and open our message thread.
Hey, can’t make lunch today. Sorry. Buried in Switzerland contracts. You’d think with this much money on the line, someone would’ve figured out how to minimize the bullshit by now.
Jordan
Ahhhhh, poor baby. Drowning in all your piles of money?
I let out a laugh. “Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.
Yeah, tragic, I know. Light a candle. Send thoughts, prayers, and caffeine.
The phone buzzes through the intercom. “Mr. Grayson?”
I press the button. “Yeah?”
“I’ve got your coffee up front. Want me to bring it in?”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
“Be right there,” she says quickly. I can practically hear the smile in her voice.
A minute later, there’s a soft knock on my door.
“Come in,” I call.
Harper steps inside, heels clicking against the wood floor. My gaze travels up those long, toned legs and lands on a killer smile.
“Your coffee, sir,” she says, walking toward my desk.
“Thanks. Just set it there,” I mumble, pointing to the corner of the desk.
I’m stretched back in my chair, ankle resting on one knee, absentmindedly stroking my beard.
She bends forward, more than necessary, making sure her cleavage is angled my way as she sets the coffee down, then straightens.
She’s technically wearing work-appropriate clothes—if “appropriate” means a shirt designed to fuck with me and a skirt that’s way too damn short.
“Anything else I can get you?”
I smother a smirk. “That’ll be all, Harper.”
She lingers a second too long, like she’s waiting for me to say something else, then turns for the door.
“Thank you,” I call out as she opens it.
Her head whips around. “It’s my pleasure.”
I chuckle under my breath as she leaves, my eyes following those legs all the way out the door.
Hey, I can look. One, I don’t fuck with young girls. Two, I’d never mess around with an employee. Too much drama either way.
She’s new. Pretty girl—twenty-four, I think. I owed her dad a favor, so I hired her, contingent on her doing a good job, and she has.She’s been quick to learn the systems, professional, and clients seem to like her.
Good enough for me.
I check my phone. Jordan left my message on read.
I’ll text her later to reschedule.
