Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“I’ll start working on some mood boards for each of those garments. Can you forward them to me?” I ask, rounding the desk and taking a seat across from him once more.
“They’ll be sending over the other items for AlteredX and Icon as well,” he says, clicking keys on his keyboard. “As soon as they’re sent, I’ll forward those. You should have the ones we just looked through now.”
“When are we conducting the rest of the interviews for the assistant positions?”
He sighs, running a hand back through his thick hair.
“I had them moved to next week. We need to nail the talent first.”
I stand, ready to get back to my office and get started.
Charles walks around the desk so he is only inches away from me, leaning back against his desk so we’re at eye level.
“You are an incredible asset to this company, Raven. I hope you realize that despite my actions last night, I genuinely mean that. Your passion will be what makes this campaign remarkable.”
The word passion lingers in the air, and I swear he’s about to lean down and kiss me. A knock on the door has me snapping out of it.
Had I imagined it? Charles is still leaning back against his desk, looking like he hasn’t moved.
I shake my head, brush my hands over my skirt, and stand a little taller.
“Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Cavendish. You won’t regret it.” Without looking at Charles, I open the door and leave.
The woman on the other side of the door is Shelby, and her eyes widen.
“Oh, you are here today,” she says.
“Sorry.” I offer a tight-lipped smile.
“Shelby, I’m ready for your meeting,” Charles says from behind me, and Shelby glares at him over my shoulder.
“Are you leaving?” she asks.
“Yep,” I say and quickly hurry away.
I don’t look at Charles at all, and I don’t look back to see if Shelby is still glaring at him. I desperately need to get away from this office. From him.
It takes a lot to unravel me like that, but the more time I spend alone with Charles, the more I find myself unable to control myself, and that’s a huge problem. I got the job, but having feelings for the boss won’t help me keep it.
I run to the bathroom and shut myself in one of the stalls. I stand here breathing deeply, in and out, in and out. What would've happened if there hadn’t been a knock on the door?
Would he have kissed me again?
Would I have let him?
Did I imagine the whole thing?
God . . . What is wrong with me?
He’s my boss. I should never have kissed him in the closet that first night. He was a stranger, and that’s not who I am. You didn’t know he was your boss.
This is the last time I think about Charles Cavendish in any way past professionalism. Is he attractive? Yes. Have I worked with plenty of handsome men in the past? Also yes. I can do this. I will do this.
I stay in the stall for a full ten minutes, giving myself the pep talk I desperately need, grateful nobody has entered the room to hear my insane rambling. I take a couple of deep breaths and head to the sink, splashing a bit of cold water on my face, feeling better.
Got to simply keep things professional.
On my walk back to my office and see that Charles’s door is still closed. He seems to keep it shut most of the time, and the blinds are typically down as well, so it’s hard to tell what is going on, but as I walk past, I’m almost sure I hear Shelby yell. She does not sound happy.
I smirk, wondering how his assistant gets away with speaking to him like that. Most of the men I’ve worked with in the past had such chips on their shoulders they would never have allowed a subordinate to raise their voice to them.
Charles has had two women chastising him well and good in a mere hour. The door cracks, and a small squeal escapes my lips as I rush down the hallway, not wanting to be caught loitering outside the door.
Hopefully, the rest of the day will not be eventful.
16
Charles
It’s been four days since Raven took the Diosa position, and I’ve spent the entirety of those days trying to nail down Paxton for a meeting.
The bastard’s doing it on purpose, trying to flex his proverbial muscles before agreeing to the meeting.
A meeting he moaned about not having sooner.
We both know he’d rearrange his schedule if any other agency held the Diosa account, but his so-called best mate gets jerked around like a sure thing. Hell, I bet he’d have met anyone else on one of his precious Saturdays to land this campaign for one of his clients.