by Ana Sparks
Chapter One
Aimee
Inhaling a shaking breath, I steel my nerves as I apply my makeup, my reflection scowling back at me from the mirror above the sink. Here I was, straight out of college and knee-deep in debt, and the time had finally come to move to my dream town of Seattle.
When I say dream town, that’s not an exaggeration. Ever since I was a girl growing up in the small town of Colfax, it’s been an aspiration of mine to live the good life in the city.
Sure, I could work as a grocery store clerk or something, but sue me for wanting something more. I worked hard at Washington State, earning my marketing degree, while my art-major friends partied their way through college. My hard work paid off, it seems, as I’ve just landed a prestigious internship at a multibillion-dollar real estate company. As you might have guessed, it’s in my dream city of Seattle.
The company, SharpeFocus, is notoriously guarded about its internships. I know I’ll be serving under the lead marketing director, but beyond the initial job description, I’m clueless. You don’t ask questions when a job like this is dangled under your nose. You just reach out and snatch it in your claws, as perfectly manicured and painted as they may be.
It might seem like I have everything well in hand, that I’m confident and sure of myself, but the truth is that I feel like a fish out of water. Seattle is about as unlike Colfax as you can imagine, and while my dreams have always been huge, living them out is proving to be a bit more stressful than I expected.
All the same, I must be doing something right to even be considered for the internship. Obviously, getting in on the ground floor isn’t the most glamorous way to begin my career, but I’m more concerned with what awaits me at the end of the tunnel.
But unless I get my ass out of this apartment, the end of the tunnel won’t be coming any time soon.
My expression looks no softer than when I started applying my makeup, so I try a smile. I find myself looking more demented than anything, but maybe that’s my nerves talking. I’ve been told that I’m attractive, and while every girl has days where she feels less than pretty, most days I feel pretty confident in what I see in the mirror.
Pulling my long blond hair back, I allow a strand to frame either side of my face. One more attempt at a smile, and I don’t look half bad this time. I take a moment to internally celebrate the small victory, then, pulling my purse over my shoulder, I grab my keys and slip out of my new apartment.
Considering how lonely I’ve been since moving out here, it occurs to me that it might have been nice to find an apartment that allowed pets. I’ve received my share of calls from family, mostly my father sounding terrified that some criminal from the big city will lay hands upon his only daughter. Unfortunately, the calls do nothing to replace the company of another living being.
Shaking off the thought, I make my way down to the lobby, cursing the steep flight of stairs that I have to ascend and descend every day. I’m not out of shape by any means, but it’s a change of pace—I’m used to descending two steps, off of the porch of my childhood home. My younger brother would have already beat me to the door at this rate, but he’s always been far too energetic.
My gorgeous, red, classic muscle car sits waiting for me in the parking lot, and I can’t help but breathe a sigh of contentment. I approach the driver’s side, unlocking the door and easing comfortably in the seat. The one thing that has remained reliable in my life is my car, the trooper that she is. We fiery-spirited girls have to stick together, after all.
The engine thrums, seemingly in time with my heartbeat as I start the car, smiling a toothy little grin to myself. Coming out of college, my car was the one extra expense I allowed myself. Every other paycheck has gone towards funding this move.
Hopefully, my persistence will pay off.
I shift the car into reverse, pulling out of the lot and onto the main street. I’m not awfully familiar with the route to my workplace yet, but I know it will come in time. In the meantime, I set my GPS to take me to SharpeFocus headquarters. A peppy song plays on the radio, and I tap my fingers along to the beat.
Pulling up to the skyscraping offices sooner than I expect, I thank my lucky stars that I chose an apartment that was close to the office. Finding a parking space is a bit harder than I had originally expected, and it becomes increasingly clear just how many employees work in this building.
I find parking about a thousand miles away from the office, but at least it’s a little cheaper. Stepping out of my car, I move as quickly as my high heels will allow, checking my watch all the while. I have time, but not as much as I had hoped.
When I step into the building, I stride over to the front desk, smiling and presenting the letter I’d been told to bring with me. The receptionist is an older woman who considers me with vague interest. I try not to fidget beneath her gaze, and she gestures away with a gnarled finger.
“In front of the camera, Miss…” she trails off, looking over the letter.
“Rhodes. Aimee Rhodes,” I quickly supply, shrinking back as she turns hard eyes upon me.
“Right,” she drawls, tapping a small camera on the top of her desk.
I step far enough back for her to get a decently angled picture, and moments later, she provides me with a badge. My picture is atrocious, and I’m briefly tempted to ask if I can retake it, but she’s speaking again before I can ask.
“You head on up to the twelfth floor. Your manager’s office will be down the first hall, to the left,” the receptionist says coolly. I smile nervously before edging away towards the elevators.
I rush once I’m out of the receptionist’s sight, jabbing the button to summon the elevator. It dings pleasantly before the doors part for me to step inside. All at once, a flood of people storm out of the elevator, while another crowd stampedes towards it. I lurch inside before I’m trampled, desperately hitting the button for my floor.
I lean against the back corner of the elevator, trying to ignore my anxiety when faced with the close proximity of what I can only assume are other SharpeFocus employees. One or two people file out at each floor, and the car is nearly empty by the time we reach my floor. I put on my best smile as I step out of the elevator, breathing a deep sigh of relief.
Now, to meet my manager.
I march in the direction the receptionist had directed me, finding a door with a name that’s barely legible on it. It appears to be ‘Jack’ something, but the last name is long and hard to pronounce. While I’m considering it, the man in question steps out, not looking remotely pleased to see me.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
“Yes, Mr…” I trail off, averting my gaze.
“Jack is fine,” he grumbles, gesturing for me to continue.
“My name is Aimee Rhodes. I’m the new intern. I was told to meet with you,” I smile awkwardly again. He considers me for a long moment, humming under his breath before nodding and slipping past me.
“You’re just in time, Miss Rhodes. I’m just on my way to a staff meeting and I’d like you to accompany me,” Jack announces, and I raise a brow before rushing to fall into step behind him.
“A meeting? Already? I hardly think I have anything to contribute,” I mutter uncertainly. He chuckles, pausing so I can catch up.
“It’s just the department heads, a standard meeting. All you have to do is sit still, listen closely, and take notes. Keep quiet, and you’ll have no trouble,” he says calmly.
I swallow a lump forming in my throat, nodding my head obligingly as we walk back to the elevators. We step inside, and he hits the button for the top level. I can feel myself growing dizzy just at the thought of how high up we’ll be, but I manage to keep my composure.
The elevator opens to a much more sparsely populated floor. Jack steps out, gesturing for me to follow. I jog to keep up with him as he briskly walks down a maze of hallways. After what seems an eternity, he opens a set of double doors and gestures for me to step inside.
My eyes widen a
s I take in the massive meeting room, wondering how I managed to get this far in over my head. Everyone smiles as Jack and I step inside, however, and I can only hope the group is as friendly as they seem. Jack takes his place at the table, pulling out a chair beside him, presumably for me. I sit down, casting my gaze across the crowded table. I don’t really recognize anyone, but…
Wait…
Holy shit.
There, at the head of the table, sits the man who had forged this empire. Carson Sharpe, the namesake of SharpeFocus.
My God, he’s gorgeous…
Keeping my eyes off of the CEO is a challenge, but he seems not to notice me. I listen absently to the conversation that’s taking place, though most of it flies over my head—lots of real estate jargon that I’ve yet to familiarize myself with.
Carson Sharpe glances from department head to department head, looking somewhat troubled by the course the conversation is taking. I blink for a moment, tuning in as the meeting gets more heated. Carson slams a fist on the table, his gaze pointed as he scrutinizes each of his employees. He looks past me entirely, and I can only guess he doesn’t consider me relevant for the time being.
“Come on, people. Property values on the east side are dropping like crazy, and we’ve invested too much time and effort into our own lot to sell it for less than it’s worth,” Carson says icily, and I glance towards my manager as he stares intently at his hands.
I honestly fail to see why the marketing team has even been brought in for this particular meeting, but everyone looks shamefully lost as to what to suggest. I hesitate for a moment, biting my lip.
“If the property values are dropping, why not buy out the area? From there, you can improve the lots you own and hopefully drive up the value of all of them and the surrounding area,” I say with uncertainty in my voice, and Jack turns angry eyes upon me. For that matter, the eyes of everyone in the room are locked on me in that moment, including those of Carson Sharpe himself.
I shift uncomfortably, and Jack turns an apologetic look to the CEO.
“I’m sorry, Carson—she’s new and you know how they can be, these interns thinking they’re hot sh—” he begins, only for Carson to cut him off.
“What’s your name, young lady?” the billionaire says abruptly, his eyes capturing me in their snare. I give pause for the briefest of moments before speaking.
“Aimee Rhodes, sir. I’m sorry if I was out of line,” I manage, and he considers me for a moment before grinning.
“An insightful suggestion on your part, Miss Rhodes. We’ve been clumsy to overlook that possibility. Rick, get on the phone and see about buying out some of the other properties for rock-bottom prices,” Carson commands, drawing his eyes away from me for a moment to consider another man in the room who nods his head obligingly.
He turns to look at me again, seeming to drink me in, almost staring into the depths of my soul. There’s something less-than innocent about his stare, and I feel warmth pooling in my gut at his attention. “All right, team, get on the project immediately. This meeting is adjourned,” he announces.
A collective sigh of relief seems to wash over the group, and Carson rises and leaves the room before anyone else. Slipping away to his office, presumably. I still feel shaken by the sensation of his eyes upon me, but I try to take my mind off of it. Jack watches me with a vaguely contemptuous air as we trek back towards the marketing department.
“You lucked out, kid,” he says dryly.
I nod my head quietly, resolving to keep my head down for the rest of the day. Even if I’d impressed Mr. Sharpe, I’d hate to get on the bad side of my direct supervisor.
Unfortunately for me, getting the image of those bewitching icy blue eyes out of my head is a fruitless task. I just know they’ll haunt me for the rest of the day.
Chapter Two
Carson
The new intern caught my eye the moment she walked into the room. Now, as I sit in my office, I simply can’t get my mind off of her. Those brown doe eyes framed by pale blond hair would be enough to bring lesser men to their knees, I’m sure. I like to think that my personal fortitude goes beyond that of a normal man, but even my heart is pounding while my mind wanders to places better left unsaid.
It’s entirely unprofessional, but as I sit alone, I can do little more than weave intricate fantasies about the young woman and myself.
Aimee Rhodes, a name that I can taste the most saccharine sweetness within. I know her lips would be equally delectable on mine. I lean back in my chair, propping my feet up on my desk. I would love nothing more than to have her on this desk, doing things considered unspeakable between employer and employee. With the look she had given me—those warm eyes capturing me from the first moment—I can’t deny the feeling that she has perhaps been entertaining equally salacious thoughts.
Many would think it strange, a young woman like Miss Rhodes entertaining fantasies about a man in his forties. I don’t like to think of myself as a vain man, but my physique could belong to a man half my age. I treat my body like the temple it very well is, honing it with hours spent in the gym.
This might sound exorbitant, but I’m a man of specific tastes. I hold myself to a standard that others could never hope to reach, and what time I do not devote to my personal health is bequeathed on the success of my empire. There isn’t an aspiring CEO worldwide who hasn’t heard of SharpeFocus. It’s my pride and joy, but there are some things that a strong business ethic simply can’t provide.
Loneliness has never been an issue for me. Women come and go, although in the past, I considered them entirely disposable. I was married for a short time in my twenties, but apparently she’d felt neglected in the face of my “relentless” work schedule. The marriage lasted less than a year, but I feel no regrets regarding the turn that the relationship took.
Just a year after the divorce, I signed the contract that would take SharpeFocus into the major leagues. Now, business professionals from across the planet seek my services. A plan with Russia is in the works, one that will bring my company to peaks even I thought were out of reach. Everything on the business end is as spectacular as one could hope.
That being said, an empire means very little without a queen to stand by my side. This isn’t the first time I’ve considered pursuing a love interest of sorts, but it’s never been serious. I’m known to my inner circle as something of a womanizer. Now, however, I want something more.
Though it seems sudden, I know what I want. Even if she isn’t the one intended at my side, I have to have her, for a time, at least. I tell my secretary to call Jack and tell him to report to my office immediately, insisting that he bring Miss Rhodes as well. While waiting for them, I sit upright in my chair to focus properly. While fantasies are well enough while I am alone in my office, I don’t want to seem distracted when my employees step through the door.
As unprofessional as my thoughts may be, I want to keep my desires under the surface. At least, for now.
I pretend to immerse myself with something on my computer, but really I’m just typing idle notes. I glance up with a carefully-structured expression as a knock sounds on my door.
“Come in,” I call, keeping my voice light. I hear a shuffling on the other side of the door, and a soft murmuring that seems to be growing increasingly irritated.
I can only guess that Jack expects me to lay into the both of them, though that’s the last thing on my mind. I clear my throat, repeating my order for them to step inside. Jack pushes the door open, looking as disgruntled as always. Aimee’s expression is guarded, though it’s obvious that she’s received her share of verbal lashing already.
“Yes, Mr. Sharpe, I came as soon as I was able to round this one up,” Jack grumbles, glancing quickly at Aimee. Aimee looks somewhat troubled, and it’s obvious how much her job in this office means to her. She refuses to meet my gaze, and I inhale a steadying breath as I look between the two of them.
“Take it easy on her, Jack. You were new once, to
o,” I say coolly, and Jack mutters something under his breath. “If you have something to say, speak up,” I continue, unable to keep the slightest edge of venom from creeping into my voice. The balding thirty-something sighs, raising his eyes to meet mine.
“And I knew my place,” Jack gripes.
“As you should very well know your place, now,” I shoot back.
Jack blanches, and Aimee looks as if she’s struggling to smother a self-satisfied smirk. I like that spark within her, her obvious tenacity even in the face of adversity.
“Aimee, do you know why I’ve called you into my office?” I inquire, tapping my fingertips on the top of my desk. She hesitates, looking between Jack and me.
“I was under the impression that I would be reprimanded for speaking out of turn. I wanted to…apologize,” she manages, though the words are obviously forced.
I nod slowly, pretending to give some thought to what she’s saying. Truthfully, my eyes are more drawn to the hint of cleavage visible through her blouse. My fantasies from before surge to the forefront of my mind, and if I were less confident, I may very well be blushing like a schoolboy. Thankfully, neither of them seems to notice any change in my demeanor.
“Oh, you mean that very useful suggestion you offered at the meeting? Why on earth would I reprimand you for that? Who would be that insecure in their abilities?” I reply, shooting a brief, but pointed look at Jack. He seems to take the hint that he’s treading on thin ice, his expression withdrawn.
“Well, Jack suggested that it would be prudent for me to show some respect,” she answers with a small smile. It seems she’s just as aware of Jack’s misstep as the man himself is, and she looks all too pleased to be off the burner. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, though I realize she has no means of recognizing it yet.
“I see. Jack, do you have anything to say for yourself?” I demand, though it’s all a farce at this point. A game of give and take, that I should hope ends with me taking what I want from both of them.