She quirked an eyebrow, surprised that he hadn't been uncomfortable in the slightest with her question. Sure, she hadn't barbed him about it, but if there was something shady going on, wouldn't he show at least some signs of discomfort? She would have to look into it on her own, rather than press him further on it, she decided.
“That's an interesting, if risky business strategy,” she opted for the diplomatic option, earning her a chuckle. The more time she spent around him, the more she was convinced that he was trying to toy with her, but in what way specifically, she couldn't say, and not knowing was driving her slowly insane; her, 'detective sense,' as it was, was tingling that there was more to this man that meets the eye, and she wanted to know all of his secrets, and God as her witness, she was going to unravel the mystery that Mr. Westley was shrouded in.
“Oh, don't I know it,” he replied in that same smooth tenor timbre. “But risk is part of the game. Sometimes, you have to put yourself out in the open, expose yourself to a fatal blow, in order to make the best move.” He took a sip of his coffee from his mug, and it spoke of how enraptured she had become by him that she hadn't even noticed that he had brought that over. She cursed quietly to herself.
“Have you only risked yourself?” she asked, curious as to his response.
“Of course not,” he said after another swallow of his coffee. “I've put my business, my livelihood, and sometimes, even my own life at stake.”
“Employees included, in the whole, 'putting your business at stake,' bit?” She pressed with a tilt of her head.
“They're part of the company,” he replied with a shrug. “I've never taken a risk without due diligence, or if I thought the odds were stacked against me. I know what's at stake if I lose a gamble.” He leaned forward, setting his coffee down before resting his forearms against his knees. He stared at her intensely, and she found herself unable to look away. “So I always make sure that I'll never lose.”
Something about his tone made it sound like a promise to her, on a personal level, that he would always come out on top, and maybe it was because she had been single for a while now, but the way that he said it without taking his eyes off of her made her want to believe him. It was no wonder he was one of the most desirable bachelors around right now, wealth and fame notwithstanding.
“I see,” she said, and hoped it didn't sound as breathy on the recorder as it did to her. And to him, if his slow smirk was any indicator. She cleared her throat. “Has this behavior reflected upon your business model in any way?” She was relieved that she sounded much more sure of herself with that question.
“I don't think so, per say,” he said, tilting his head to contemplate the question. “I certainly take risks in acquiring shows that may or may not flop, but once they're mine, I put everything behind them to give them a shot at success,” he shrugged. “It just makes sense to back the horse that you pay for, and when there's so much at stake, there's just no sense in setting a show up for failure.” He checked his watch, and made an apologetic face. “I hate to cut this interview short, but unless you only had one or two more questions, I need to make a few calls.”
“Oh,” she blinked at him, caught off guard. Their interview had been going so well that the sudden shift in his demeanor left her a little at a loss as to how to proceed. “No, no further questions. Thank you for your time,” she clicked the recorder off and tucked it back into her purse. “I'm just grateful for the time that you did give us.”
“Sure, sure,” he said distractedly. “Say…” he looked at her then, really looked at her, and she flushed from her chest all the way to her scalp at the intensity of the look. “I know you're currently working as a journalist, and that we have a few more appointments together,” he said, tugging at one of his sleeves to pull it back into place. “But once you've finished your article,” he reached into his suit coat's inner pocket and pulled out a business card, “why not come work for someone who will pay you what you're due, Angela? Once you've squared away everything with the Planetary Bugle and all that, of course,” he was quick to amend with another dazzling smile.
“I,” she blinked stupidly at him. Of all the things that she expected to come out of this interview, a job offer of all things, was not one of them. “Wow, that's – that's an incredibly generous offer of you, Mr. Westley,” she stammered, utterly baffled at the sudden turn of events. “I don't know what to say!”
“It's a sudden offer, I know,” he said as she took his business card, “so think on it, and how about you and I get together for lunch and talk over the details? Your magazine booked another few interviews with me, so it'll take care of two birds with one stone.” He wouldn't stop grinning at her, and she hated what that was doing to her insides.
“Ah, that sounds great,” she said as she slipped the card he gave her into her pocket. “Will I be hearing from your assistant on scheduling that, then?”
“Probably not,” he sighed. “She hasn't been answering her phone all day. I have to assume that she's indisposed. How about we exchange numbers, and we set up the second interview? I may not be the best secretary, but I can look at a schedule.” They shared a laugh as he escorted her to the elevator.
“That's fair enough,” she said, pulling her phone out. They saved each other's numbers in their phones, and with the promise of a follow up meeting, they walked to the elevator.
“I'll be seeing you, Miss Parker,” he said with an intense stare and a flirtatious smile.
“I hope so,” she said as she entered the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby.
* * * *
Naturally, she hadn't needed much convincing; he knew a girl like that was positively suffocating in a place like the Planetary Bugle, and that she would be a worthwhile asset to his company. She would go home, dwell on it, and come to lunch with him once they scheduled it pretending to be coy about it, but her mind will have already been made up. She'll take the job, he knew. Just as well, he had been thinking of hiring a new assistant for a while, anyway. Her literally coming to him was just a bonus – less work for him to hunt down someone who would be capable.
That, and, if he was being honest, he found himself intrigued by her. She was beautiful, in her own way, with wavy chestnut hair and bright green eyes, she still had a youthful spark underneath the tiredness of the everyday life she lived, and he found himself drawn to that. She had the loveliest freckles on her cheeks, nose, and forehead, and he caught himself staring a few times. A girl who can distract him is certainly one that he wanted to explore, to understand and map out under his fingertips.
He grinned at the idea before his thoughts turned to more irritating things. Not the least of which was getting in touch with his assistant. If nothing else, to let her know that she was in the process of being replaced. She may not have always been the best assistant, but he could, at the very least, give her a warning, that she might start looking for employment elsewhere. He pulled out his phone and began to make some calls, first to his assistant to figure out where the hell she ran off to this time, and then to his secretary, to try and get her to figure out when his next available day to meet with Angela would be.
He returned to his desk, taking his seat and pulling his computer out of sleep mode. Once his computer was fully awake, he pulled up the documents he had been looking over before Angela had arrived, and resumed his work. His contractor had sent him the list of clients that he had requested, now he just had to oversee taking care of them personally.
He did so hate getting his hands dirty.
* * * *
It had been a long four hours at the office of her transcribing the recording of the interview, and of her boss barking orders that she needed to step up her work and be grateful that she had the job that she did, but she had survived it. Then, it was another, somehow even longer hour of traffic, but at long last, Angela parked her car, unlocked her front door, and walked into to her condo. She sighed blissfully as she threw herself on their plush sofa and slipped
off her heels. She swore she could almost hear her feet thanking her for the release, and she simply lay there for a few moments, relishing the quiet, the complete lack of the clacking of a keyboard and the shouts of people in the cars, and simply let her mind decompress.
“So, how'd it go out there today, Miss Hotshot Reporter?” her roommate, Kaitlyn asked as she came into the living room where Angela was relaxing.
“Pretty great, until it became awful,” she said, but it was muffled through the cushion, and she knew it, so she heaved herself into a semi sitting position. “The interview itself was actually really nice, I have to admit.” And it had been; David was charismatic, and had the fewest restrictions she had ever had to deal with when it came to doing an interview. It was just as shame that the rest of it was postponed until another time, as it had been such pleasant conversation.
“At least there's that,” her roommate offered. “Here, how about I make us some tea, and you tell me all about your day. I was off work, so literally nothing other than me getting my laundry done happened today.” They both giggled.
“Sure, that sounds like a plan,” Angela nodded. “Thanks, Kaitlyn,” she called to her friend's retreating form.
“Sure, sure,” she said as she went into the kitchen. “I've always been better at making tea than you, anyway.” They both shared another laugh as Kaitlyn poured water into the kettle.
Normally, Angela would have followed her friend into the kitchen, but her feet were still clearly unhappy with her for being stuffed into those God awful high heels she just had to wear today, and the sofa was just so soft, she couldn't bring herself to move an inch.
Kaitlyn must have understood this, because she didn't call out to her from the kitchen while the electric kettle was boiling their water, and instead opted to bring out two steaming mugs of black tea. She set hers on the coffee table, on the coaster, before handing Angela hers.
“Ahh, my savior,” she sighed as she blew on her tea to cool on it.
Kaitlyn laughed. “Who, me, or the tea?” she asked with a teasing quirk of the eyebrow.
“Why can't it be both?” They both tittered in laughter some more as they waited for their tea to cool. “Anyway,” Angela sighed, “back to how my day went.”
“So how was interviewing someone like Mr. David Westley?” Kaitlyn asked, eyes wide. “Was he just as much of a jerk as we were worried he was?”
“Surprisingly, no,” she said. “He was really charming and spoke very clearly and confidently,” she trailed off and took a sip of her tea. “He offered me a job, too.”
“Wait, what?” Kaitlyn sputtered. She coughed a little, as she had already taken a rather deep pull from her mug.
“Sorry, sorry, I didn't know you'd already taken a drink,” Angela tried not to giggle at her friend flailing to try and not choke on her hot tea.
“Very funny,” Kaitlyn glared at her for a moment before returning to the topic at hand. “Seriously, though – he just, what, said, 'hey, Angela you're hot and you're smart come work for me!' or something?” she asked with an arched brow.
Angela tried not to flush. “Well, he didn't say that or anything,” she sighed. “He said that he appreciated my work, and he knew that I wasn't being put to my full potential and stuff like that.”
“He's not a bad judge of business, that's for sure,” Kaitlyn said with a nod.
Angela sighed again and gave her friend a pointed look.
“Kaitlyn,” she said tiredly, even though she knew that Kaitlyn was right, she didn't like dwelling on it.
“You know you're better than the Planetary Bugle, Ange,” she said pointedly. “I don't know why you haven't tried to get out of there sooner. They're literally keeping you tied down by shit talking you when you're their best reporter!”
She couldn't even argue with that. It had been three years since she got a job with the Planetary Bugle, and two of them, she'd been doing her damnedest to get out of it. But every time that she would land an interview of some sort, and they would ask her current editor in chief about her experiences and how she was like to work with, he would trash her name to high heaven so that no one else would hire her.
It was literally an abusive relationship with work, and she hated it.
“I don't know the terms that he's going to give me, though, Kait,” she sighed and sipped on her tea some more. “He might try and give me awful terms that I might take just to get out from being stuck at the Bugle.”
“Then you tell him no, and go back to being miserable for the devil you know,” Kaitlyn said with a shrug. “But you can at least hear him out on it, yeah? You're absolutely miserable where you're at, and this might be your ticket out of there!” She set her tea down and took Angela's hands in hers. “This could be your big break that you've been hoping for since you moved out here!”
Angela sighed. “I know it could be. I'm just afraid that it won't work out, and I'll have to go crawling back to Jay and beg him to give me my job back.” And it was true; he'd made it abundantly clear that he was going to ensure that it was going to be nearly impossible for her to work anywhere else if things didn't work out and she left. If she had to come crawling back to him, he was going to make her pay for it in grueling hours and backbreaking work.
He had always acted like that, though, if she were being honest. When she was a bright eyed, inexperienced girl fresh out of college and with nothing to lose, she moved out here to the city with Kaitlyn to start out her journalism career, she had applied to every major magazine and newspaper that she could find that was stationed there, and every single one of them said the same thing: they were interested, but she didn't have enough experience.
Okay, fine, she understood that, so she applied to the middle of the road kind of places, the local magazines that did well but weren't internationally run. She figured that would be enough of a starting point that she could always upgrade to a bigger and better publisher later. But they all said the same thing as the big companies: They were interested, and her resume looked impressive, but she didn't have enough experience to back it up. Well, all of them except for one.
And he must have known it, too, judging by the way that he acted from the moment that she came through his door. Even during the interview, he acted like she owed him for offering her a job, even though, when she came onto the team, “the team” consisted entirely of her, Kaitlyn, and one other person. Though they brought on more people later, some had left, citing Jay's behavior as being the primary reason for leaving. Ever since, the burden of prime time journalism for the Planetary Bugle fell to her shoulders, and Jay did everything in his power to make sure she stayed right where she was.
“Angela?” She was pulled out of her reverie by Kaitlyn's quiet call of her name.
“Sorry, I just got lost in thought,” she smiled. “But you're right.” It was hard for her to say it, but it needed saying, “I can do so much better than the Bugle. And,” she added. “If Mr. Westley is offering that something better for me, I'll take it when I see him and go over the details.”
Kaitlyn's eyes lit up. “Oh, I'm so glad!” Kaitlyn said, her eyes bright with tears. “When will you guys meet up again?”
Angela opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by Angela's ringtone blaring out of her pocket.
“Sorry, I think that might be him,” she smiled apologetically as she pulled her phone out. His name appeared on her screen. “Yep, it's him,” she smiled and answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Miss Parker,” oh, there it was – that smooth timbre of the low tenor voice that had sent shivers up her spine all day as she listened to the interview she had recorded.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Westley!” she chirped excitedly. Best to start on a professional foot, she decided. Kaitlyn gave a thumbs-up in solidarity and as a sign that she was rooting for her. “Thank you so much for taking the time to call me!”
“Please,” he said, and she swore that she could hear him positively grinning from the other side of the ph
one. “Call me David.”
“Oh,” she stammered a moment. “A-alright, David,”
Kaitlyn smirked from across the room. She resisted the urge to toss a pillow at her.
“Ah, much better,” his voice dropped even lower, and she crossed her legs subtly. Poor Kaitlyn didn't need to see any evidence of the wetness that was beginning to collect in her core at the tone of his voice. “Now, I'm calling to schedule the second part of the interview, and to go over the details of my offer to you,” he said, and she nodded until she remembered that he couldn't see her.
“Of course. My schedule has been freed for the next week to work on the story, so whenever you're available to meet to discuss things.” She watched Kaitlyn make kiss faces at her. Urges be damned, that time she did whip a pillow at her. And didn't even feel a little sorry when it smacked her in the face.
“Oh, perfect.”
He was doing that voice thing on purpose, wasn't he? She had to think so, or else he was literally the sexiest person to talk to on the phone.
“How about I send a car to pick you up and take you to one of my restaurants tomorrow? My treat, of course.”
Sending a car to come and pick her up? She supposed she shouldn't be terribly surprised that he had personal drivers for this sort of thing.
“You, ah, you don't have to send a car my way-” she said uncertainly.
“Please, I insist,” he said in a tone that left very little room for discussion on her part. “How does one thirty sound?”
“That sounds great.” She pressed her thighs together to try and tamp down on the reaction that his voice was getting out of her. She squirmed, trying not to betray what she was feeling in her core to Kaitlyn; the mortification would surely be enough to kill her. “I'll see you then?” She asked in a way that she hoped was only vaguely flirtatious.
“Oh, I'm looking forward to it. Send me your address in a text message, and I'll make sure to have my best driver pick you up,” he said before they said their farewells and hung up. She sighed as she tucked her phone away.
Hang Em' Up: A Bad Boy Sports Pregnancy Romance Page 105