His gut clenched. The same woman he’d seen on the street, the one with the yellow dress.
That woman happened to be Manuela, his loyal assistant.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, and blinked, to make sure he was seeing her correctly. She, his reliable assistant, was this bombshell in front of him? He took notice of her hazel eyes, enhanced by a golden eyeshadow, the eye lashes longer than usual. She smiled, and the dimples showed, but her usual braces were nowhere to be seen. White, straight teeth greeted him.
Damn it. His assistant was a knock-out. And this was really, really bad news.
Manuela smiled, excitement fluttering inside her stomach.
She’d played Nate’s reaction in her head a few times, but none had come close to this one.
Her handsome, hot, mouth-watering boss looked at her like she was a juicy, tender piece of filet mignon, and he was a starved man walking up to his last meal. A gorgeous, starved man. God, how many times had she looked at his mysterious brown eyes and felt like blurting out she’d fallen for him the first time she set foot through that door?
Back then, she’d been scared to tell him how she felt. Besides, he had a girlfriend. She couldn’t do anything about it, and would never interfere in a steady relationship no matter how tempting he was. And ooooh yes, he was tempting. Delicious. Sexy as hell.
Office Daddy, that was what a few female agents and assistants called him behind his back. Gray streaks numbered among his smooth chestnut colored hair, and a few wrinkles around his eyes only added to his strong daddy energy. His body, though, could belong to a personal trainer, or a former football player.
“Manuela?” he asked, frowning.
She willed herself away from her reverie and into the moment. Because he would no longer be a party of her fantasies. Nate Collier could finally be hers, and she’d be damned if she’d let that opportunity slip through her French-tipped, manicured fingers. “Yes,” she said softly.
He gave her a lingering glance, and for a moment she wondered if he’d mention anything about her makeover. A knot formed in her tummy, and a wave of anxiety washed over her, like the anticipation would kill her. Could this really be so easy? Would he just succumb to her like this, on the spot? Had her cousin been right about the makeover?
“You’re late,” he said, with that curious expression still on his face.
She worried her lower lip. She’d been late on purpose, delaying her departure from her apartment. She wanted to make an entrance of sorts, to show him she wasn’t just his old assistant at his beck and call. Well. She wanted to be at his beck and call in a completely different way. “Sorry. But I made it, right?”
“Right. Take a seat.”
She sat in the chair in front of him. Oh, how many times had she fantasized about Nate taking her on his desk? He had an imposing physique, the result from years of kickboxing.
She tapped her fingers on her lap, to distract from the need to run them down his large chest, then feel his washboard abs—she knew about them, because she’d seen a shirtless picture of him on Instagram. Gawked at it, then saved it on her phone. That day, she’d touched herself—well, if she was being honest, that day and every single one after. “How has life been?”
“What happened? You said you had to take care of family matters, and you come back looking—”
She leaned in. “Looking?”
“Different,” he said.
She crossed her legs. So he did notice something about her. She’d take any microscopic measure of progress she could get. “As you know, my cousin Andrea from Santa Barbara ended her marriage. I had to be there for her,” she said, only partly lying. Her cousin had gotten divorced, six months prior, but she didn’t need to add that detail. The less she made this about her, the better. “And she just got her cosmetology license, so to cheer her up I let her practice on me.”
He scratched his chin, eyes rested on her, and she wondered what was in his head. Did he think she lied to him and went on a fun cruise somewhere? “It’s not just the hair, though,” he said.
A small smile of a tiny victory danced on her lips. No, it wasn’t just the hair.
She fidgeted her hands in her lap. How did she explain to him that she’d done a makeover to seduce him? Or at least, get his attention. When she’d learned about his breakup, two months ago, hope brewed in her heart. Why couldn’t she have a turn?
She loved the man.
Yet, she’d held herself back and waited weeks and weeks, needing to make sure he wouldn’t go back to Megan. Also, she had to figure out how she’d win over a man like him. Hot, rich and successful, he could have any woman he wanted. Why would he go for the curvy Brazilian assistant who still attended community college? Besides, she was twenty-one. Until a few months ago, drinking was illegal.
Not that she cared…
Having immigrated to the United States at ten with little in her mother and father’s wallet, she had been through enough situations to help her mature overnight. The loss of her younger brother. The hard months staying with Andrea’s family until her parents got steady jobs and could move out. The way the other kids looked at her, making fun of her broken English and thick accent.
“Well, we went shopping, and she gave me some tips of clothes to wear,” she said. Andrea had told her to ditch her go-to shades of pastel and try more vibrant colors. Things like a chunky necklace, or a loud pair of heels when paired with other items made her entire look pop more. Things Manuela should have known, but fashion had never been her forte.
She’d taken care of her mother for a couple years before she lost her to ovarian cancer, and her dad wasn’t necessarily a fashionista. So she’d settled for clean looks and plain clothes, because for those years, that was how she felt—empty and bleak. Sad, that her dear mom was withering away.
