Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
The note on the underside of the lid reads,
A little congratulations. I’m looking forward to working with you.—Dylan
It’s a single, fancy chocolate. A truffle, maybe? I wonder if he does this for every new employee. I could see that, considering how much attention he seems to have paid to everything, from comfort to security. But deep down, I know he doesn’t do this for everyone. He did it for me.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. It feels almost as though he’s testing the waters with me already. Or maybe it’s an olive branch, I tell myself.
With a smile firmly in place, I put the box of chocolate and my bag on the desk—no, not the desk—on my desk and get to work, letting the excitement outweigh everything else.
I quickly put the rest of my personal things away. I didn’t bring much, just a tiny little potted plant that’s in a coffee mug, which fits perfectly next to one of my monitors. A simple notepad, and set of skinny black luxe pens. And that’s it for the moment. The rest of my desk I’m keeping bare. I don’t want to settle in until I’ve earned it.
And I get to work.
“Knock, knock.”
I look up, and I can’t help the heat that rises from the tips of my toes all the way up to my cheeks when I see Dylan standing in the doorway of my cubicle, his wide shoulders filling most of the open space.
He really is devilishly handsome. His suit is on point, as I expect, a well-fitting gray that makes him look approachable but still powerful. His patterned blue tie is knotted perfectly at the neck, and it definitely gives him sexy boss vibes. Swallowing down the emotions brewing, and the desire that’s instantly ignited by his presence, I greet him professionally but warmly.
“Good morning, Mr. Sharpe.”
“Miss Hill, how are things going this morning?”
“Very well,” I answer, feeling like there’s more to the question than there should be. “I met Juliana, who walked me through onboarding, which is what I’ve been working on. If I maintain my pace, I should be finished in about thirty minutes. I thought I could check in on the Chicago commodities market? Unless there’s something else?”
Business only. Nothing weird or personal or intimate happening here.
Other than the CEO of the company stopping by my desk on my first day. And the tension cracking between us as he grins at my desperate attempt to give a concise report of the last two hours of my morning. And my heart racing when he offers me an asymmetrical smile.
“That’s fine,” Dylan says. “Tell you what, do some starter trading for me and we’ll see how you do. What do you say we start you with… a million dollars?”
I gawk, nearly choking on my tongue. “Mr. Sharpe, I know that this firm controls a lot and it’s numbers on a screen, but… are you sure?”
Dylan stares at me, his eyes warm but hard.
This is a challenge, a test.
“I am. That nervousness shows me you understand the weight of your responsibilities. Too many new hires come into the business thinking that they’re just doing a big boy version of fantasy stock market trading. To them, it’s like playing online poker for free, or fantasy football.”
“This isn’t a nickel ante game, though,” I point out, and Dylan nods.
I understand, and that’s part of the test. On one hand, this is just like playing around on the fantasy markets. The goal is to get ‘points’. And I need to relax in order to make the most points. On the other hand, these points are real dollars. There are consequences for fucking around. This million dollars could mean multiple people’s life savings. I could help them retire early or put them into an early grave with losses.
This is the exact reason I want to be in this business. I want to make a meaningful difference for people who put their hard-earned dollars in my hands. One steadying breath in, and I wipe my palms on my skirt.
“Okay, I’ll do my best,” I tell him.
Dylan steps back, giving me an evaluating look. “Good. I expect nothing less. How about you stop by my office at the end of the day, then? Say, six o'clock. I would like an update on your gains and losses.”
His professional tone never changes. If anyone overheard him, they wouldn’t think an inappropriate thing about it. But I see the fire in his eyes and can see the smirk pulling at his lips. And I definitely don’t miss the way his gaze scans my face, lingering on my lips when I lick them, suddenly feeling very dry in some places and very wet in others.
Six o’clock will likely be after most people have left, but it could still be seen as a professional meeting. But I don’t think it will be.