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The Bishop Affair

Page 3

by Jennifer Simms


  Settling into my new desk, I got to work right away. But an hour into it, I yawned widely and heard a laugh from Susan’s desk.

  “I have a feeling you’ll wish you were just typing up the transcripts,” she called from across the hall. “When the brothers figure out what they want from you, you’ll get no rest.”

  The next hours flew by in a blur of typing about meeting minutes, actionable items, and todos. Most of it referred to projects or people I’d never heard of before and contained corporate jargon that I didn’t understand, but I still double-checked to make sure I spelled everything correctly. If there was anyone concerned that I’d be privy to company secrets, they could rest easy knowing I had not the slightest idea what anything meant.

  A tapping on my desk jolted me out of a phone transcript I’d been painstakingly formatting. I blinked my watering eyes and dragged them away from the computer screen. Susan smiled down at me over her glasses.

  “It’s already five thirty, Lori,” she said. “Get out of here!”

  “It can’t be that late,” I protested, stretching my arms over my head and arching my back. A quick check of the clock hanging in the hall revealed that she wasn’t lying. How had the time passed so fast? I had slipped into a rhythm with the transcriptions. A lunchtime tour of the building via Susan had been the only event to break up the monotony.

  Finishing up one last paragraph, I saved the document I was working on and shut down the computer. After organizing my desk to look tidy for the next day, I grabbed my bag and walked toward the elevators, feeling relieved I had made it through my first day of work smoothly. Susan had been awesome, explaining how things worked around here and taking time out of her busy day to make me feel like part of the team. The assortment of part-time jobs I had during high school could never boast of anyone like that. The atmosphere was always ‘don’t bother me, figure it out yourself’, so I was truly grateful to have her as a supervisor.

  Before I could reach the other end of the office, a beautiful woman with wavy blonde hair wearing what had to have been five-inch stilettos tripped on the edge of a carpet and dropped a ledger. Papers cascaded in every direction like falling autumn leaves. Poor thing, I thought, not sure if I was more sympathetic to her embarrassment or how badly her feet probably hurt in those murderous shoes. I hurried over and began corralling errant pages. There must have been at least a hundred scattered across the corridor.

  “Thank you,” the girl breathed gratefully, pushing her curly hair out of her face.

  “It’s no problem,” I assured her, squatting to try to organize the mess. Judging by the way she fumbled with gathering the papers, this girl was a bit of a klutz. Takes one to know one I figured, and I couldn’t help but feel a subtle kinship with her. I reached for a sheet, mulling over whether I should introduce myself, when a pair of dark shoes stepped on the fringe of the other end and froze there, preventing me from picking it up.

  “Sorry, s-sir,” my new would-be friend stuttered, raking the papers toward her.

  I began to lift my head, noting tailored pants wrapped a pair of long, built legs, upheld by a glossy silver buckle, and when I reached his face I fell flat on my butt—it was the swimmer from the gym! His long hair was still slicked back like it had been at the pool, but instead of a thin wet piece of cloth covering his crotch, he was fitted in a sharp black suit and matching tie with bold crimson stripes. What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be out whacking someone right now? In some amazing twist of fate, I had run into one of the most gorgeous men in the world in the country’s most populous city not once but twice. Up close, his sexiness overpowered any danger I felt, and it suddenly became difficult to breath. The scar was still there, a jagged line from his ear to the middle of his jaw, somehow only adding to his appeal.

  He bent over, picking up the sheets including the one beneath his foot and deposited several papers into the girl’s hands without taking his gaze away from me. Crooking a darkly handsome smile that didn’t quite reach his intense eyes, he knelt down to help finish gathering the pages.

  “Haven’t seen you around here,” he stated, knocking a few pages against the floor to straighten them.

  “Oh, you wouldn’t have,” I said, stunned to find I was able to speak in his presence. “It’s my first day.” I looked into his deep blue eyes, curious as his pupils visibly widened. Handing the papers over to the blonde, I had to shake them to get her attention. She took them languidly, positively transfixed on Mr. Dark and Dangerous. A quick glance around revealed that most of the women still in the office were having the same reaction; they couldn’t take their eyes off him.

  “Your first day?” He raised an eyebrow. The last of the papers collected, we all stood up and the girl offered her thanks and bustled away, teetering a bit in her towering heels. “So what’s your impression?”

  Standing next to him was like standing next to a furnace; his sex appeal radiated and he seemed to know it. Not to mention he towered—even with the added inches my pumps gave me, I still only came up to his chest.

  “I think I’m going to like it here,” I replied, mesmerized by the magnetism of his stare. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me once since he arrived. Even though I felt like I was beneath a microscope, I couldn’t help but enjoy the attention.

  “I know you’ll like it here.” Without so much as a goodbye or simple wave, he turned and walked away. I was thankful that mine wasn’t the only lustful stare that followed his tight ass across the office.

  He worked here, that much was clear.

  Gradually, the normal hustle and bustle of the space returned—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, people talking. It was almost as if everything had come to a standstill in his presence. And I couldn’t blame them.

  It wasn’t until I was on the bus ride back to the apartment that I hit my forehead in consternation. I hadn’t even introduced myself or gotten his name. I was consoled with the fact that, given we worked at the same company, it was more than likely we’d meet up again soon. I blushed hotly as I pictured him again in his Speedo. Those lean, rippling muscles begged to be licked. I wondered how he was in the bedroom …or over the top of a desk…or spread out across a rug. I pressed my cheek against the cool glass of the window, feeling the erotic fantasies pooling below my belly. A couple of the more creative situations I filed away in the back of my mind for later use.

  Hopping off the bus, my building was only a block away. I headed up the stairs and let myself into the apartment. Sam’s shoes weren’t there so I knew she was probably going to be working late again. I was in the middle of setting my things down when my cell phone began buzzing. “Hi, Mom,” I said, trying to keep the sigh out of my voice.

  “Hi sweetie, just wanted to know how your first day went.”

  “It was fine,” I toed off my pumps and unfastened my skirt. It was time to get comfortable. “I haven’t really started what I’m supposed to be doing yet. Turns out I’m going to be the personal assistant to the company’s two CEOs.”

  “Oh really? And who are these CEOs that would trust a young, inexperienced girl to do such an important job?” my mom asked suspiciously. I smiled wryly as I unbuttoned my blouse. That was just like my mom—not trusting anyone new, not even trusting her own daughter.

  “Mom, I’m not a ‘girl’ anymore. And remember, it’s still a trial position. I could very well be let go at the end of the month.” Her murmur of acknowledgement sounded more like approval for the idea of her daughter losing her job and having to return home. I shook my head. “Anyway, their names are Trevor and Jordan Bishop. I haven’t met them yet, so I don’t know much.” I slid into sweatpants and a T-shirt when I entered my room and fell back across the bed, each muscle easing into delicious relaxation.

  “Lori, be careful. You never know what motives people have. I don’t trust this company you’re working for, why don’t you think about coming home?” my mom wheedled. “I have your old room all fixed up. I’m sure we can find you a job here in town.�


  Throwing my arm over my eyes, I groaned mentally. We still had this tiff about every other day. “We’ve been over this,” I said as gently as I could. “New York City’s my home now.”

  “You’ve only been there a few weeks, Binghamton was your home for twenty-three years. Come back and stay with me for a while, I won’t even charge you rent. I’m sure it’s excessive enough in the city.”

  “I can’t come back,” I said flatly. “And rent is manageable. Sam and I can handle it.”

  “I just can’t imagine why you would want to stay in that big, dirty city. God knows it’s not for the crime rate.”

  “My neighborhood’s very safe,” I reassured her. She was falling into her tried and true routine. I could practically guess where she was going next. “And I love the city.”

  “Maybe I would feel better if you had a man there with you.” Big surprise, I thought, rolling my eyes. You could predict the passing of comets with the regularity of my mother’s arguments. “Sweetie, why don’t you just try to make it work with Eric?”

  “I’m hanging up the phone now.”

  “I know he hurt you, but everybody makes mistakes, if you would just—”

  “I might take a train out to see you this weekend.”

  “That’s nice, Lori, but listen to me about this. Eric is a great—”

  “Bye, Mom,” I called, talking over her. I ended the call in a bit of a black mood. Typical Mom, I thought, always trying to meddle. Attempting to smooth my ruffled feathers at being babied, my mind turned to the mystery man at the office. There was no way I was going to tell her about him. One look at that scar and she’d freak out, lock me in my room, and put metal bars on the windows. I let my imagination run wild, thinking about running my hands through his smooth hair, his lips at my throat, his fingers slipping beneath my clothing. Soon, I forgot all about my irritation.

  ***

  On the trip to work the next morning, I found myself hoping that I’d run into him again—the mysterious swimmer. This time, I’d introduce myself properly. Maybe we’d even get a chance to talk over coffee, although he didn’t seem the chatty type. I couldn’t help but scoff quietly at myself. A man of that caliber, interested in me? I didn’t even hold a candle to that poor girl who dumped all her papers over the floor. And still…was I only imagining his focused attention on me throughout the encounter? I could’ve sworn that his eyes never left mine. Disembarking at my stop, I inhaled the crisp city air and realized I was having fun. A girl could have a crush, couldn’t she? I asked myself, steeling my nerves in case I did see him.

  However, I made it to my desk without a sighting. I greeted Susan cheerfully before I saw the pile of paperwork towering over my desk.

  “You did such a great job yesterday doing the transcriptions that I thought you’d like some more.” She laughed as I squared my shoulders and prepared to tackle it head on. Having things to keep me busy was far better than sitting in my chair twiddling my fingers. I wanted to earn my stay.

  I was poring over a phone transcript later that morning when I heard my name. Looking up, I saw Susan on the phone. She smiled at me as she talked, then set the receiver back down on its cradle.

  “Mr. Bishop has some free time between meetings and would like to meet you,” she said, crossing the hallway to stand in front of my desk.

  I laid the papers aside and leaned back from my desk, feeling a thrill of excitement tempered by nerves. “And which Mr. Bishop would this be?”

  “This’ll be Jordan. But he doesn’t have all day, girl, so let’s go.”

  “Now?” I asked, reluctantly letting her pull me away from my desk. I would’ve liked to check my appearance in the restroom, perhaps reapply some more deodorant or lipstick, maybe even creep off someplace to hide. Sure, I was eager to stop pushing papers for a bit, but now everything seemed to be happening too quickly. Susan led me down the hall and around the corner to the double ornate doors that I still hadn’t seen open or close. She briskly knocked on one of them and waited until we heard a muffled command to enter. I noted that the door was very thick, probably to give privacy to the sensitive business that went on inside. She turned the handle and pushed it open.

  “Jordan, this is Lori, the new personal assistant.” I scooted around Susan and held out my hand, ready to say hello, and words failed me.

  It was the other Adonis from the gym—the one who tended to my forehead. Did this city have a sense of humor or what?

  “Thank you, Susan,” he said, rising from his desk. “Please shut the door behind you on the way out.”

  I felt, rather than heard, the door close, and it seemed as if the air suddenly became thicker. Dressed in a white oxford shirt that seemed to barely contain him with black suspenders over top, he had his jacket over the back of his leather chair. He was elegant yet intimidating at the same time. Rounding the large oak desk scattered with business documents, he strode forward and took my hand in his with a firm grip.

  “Great to meet you, Lori.” He pumped up and down once before releasing. Even after he withdrew, my hand still felt like it was enveloped in his warm strength.

  “Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Bishop.” I was overwhelmed by his physicality and found myself even more attracted to him seeing him in business clothes than when I first saw him in the gym.

  “Please, call me Jordan, there are one too many Bishops around here to make that formality convenient.”

  “Okay,” I said in a small voice.

  He cocked his head and furrowed his brows as he looked at me. “Have we met somewhere before?” His arms crossed and one hand stroked the stubble on his chin. I thought his biceps were going to burst from his shirtsleeves.

  I cleared my throat, trying to regain my confidence in front of my ridiculously hot boss. “We have, actually. It was at the gym. You looked at my head after I accidentally crashed into a wall.”

  His burst of laughter rebounded off the office walls. It would have made me run for the door if it wasn’t so warm. “That’s right!” he exclaimed. “The clumsy girl from the gym.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at myself even as I blushed. “Yep, that would be me,” I admitted ruefully. “I pushed it a little too hard. It’d been a while since my last workout.”

  “Well, I think you look great, if you don’t mind me saying so.” He smiled as he sat on the edge of his desk. Even in that position he loomed over me.

  I couldn’t help but titter and blush even further. “Thank you.” Shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly, I tried to play it cool, as if my absurdly gorgeous boss didn’t just say that I was attractive.

  “So, Lori,” he began. An inexplicable thrill of excitement blossomed in my belly to hear my name on his lips. The clattering of my heart almost made me miss his next words. “I’m always interested in hearing what new people think about the company. Fresh eyes, you know.”

  I gulped. Fresh eyes, indeed. This was only my second day. “My first impression when I started yesterday was that this is a company that means business, so to speak.” My flush crept down my neck and I cleared my throat, mortified. Company that means business? I repeated in my mind. Had I never spoken before in my life?

  He rested one of his huge hands on my shoulder and smiled with his gray-green eyes. I could practically hear the energy crackling from his touch. “Relax,” he nearly purred. “There’s no need to be nervous. It’s not a test. I’m just genuinely curious.” Oddly enough, I did relax. His warmth and charm put me at ease. I smiled and let out a long breath softly.

  “I feel what you do here is hugely important,” I said. “The impression I get is that everyone in here wants to do well as a whole, and that being a part of the company is something they view as valuable.”

  He nodded slowly, stroking his chin. “And what about you?” he asked. “How do you feel about being a part of us?”

  I clasped my hands. “I’m honestly excited. Everyone seems to really like what they’re doing and I want to contribute in
any way I can.”

  He was about to reply when a knock sounded on his door. He looked at it with—was I only imagining it?—regret and called for the person to enter. It was Susan. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your 10:30 is waiting.”

  “Another time, then, Lori.” I nodded, knowing it was my cue to leave his office. I walked out buoyant but a little bit worried. Was I actually attracted to one of my bosses? How could I not be? He was kind, handsome, strong, capable…I could think of great things about him all day and I had only spent five minutes with him. With renewed vigor, I attacked the papers on my desk.

  ***

  “Lori.”

  It was perhaps one or two hours after my meeting with Jordan. I had to wait a few seconds for my eyes to readjust—I’d been trying to decipher a handwritten scrawl across a torn piece of paper—and recognized Susan. She slung her purse onto her shoulder and pushed her glasses on top of her head.

 

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