by S. Moose
“Why didn’t you apply to my company?” he questions.
“Because your company is on every major list in Forbes, and your business is constantly in the news for the deals you acquire and how successful you are. I mean, that should’ve told me to apply, but I wasn’t sure if I was qualified. Or if I was good enough.”
Bryce doesn’t respond. Instead, he moves closer to me until our knees are touching and doesn’t break our connection. With his two fingers, he softly grips my chin. I’m not prepared for what he’s about to say.
“You are good enough for my company. It’s my company that isn’t good enough to have someone like you.”
I freeze. My mouth is dry. I have no idea what to say; therefore, I keep quiet and listen to what else he has to say. I’m registering what he’s saying, replaying it in my mind.
He continues, “If you’re not ready to be a part of my company, then work with me as my stylist. I’ll teach you what I do and what you’ll be able to do once you’re on board. I need someone I can trust. Since I have a good feeling about you, I know you’ll make a positive impact on my company. You'll be in my home and office, by my side. It'll work out.”
“Wait. What? You have no idea who I am or how I work. We had one night together. You can’t judge me based on that.”
“I can. I will. And I did.”
“Okay, Bryce. This is insane.” I gawk at him, still recovering from the shock of his words.
“Believe in yourself, Madison. I believe in you.” His smile reaches his eyes, brightening their hue.
“I disagree.”
He gets up and walks to his desk to pick up a folder before coming back to the couch. “Inside this folder holds your grades from college, letters from your professors, and an impressive background. Instead of working for your father, you’re branching out and doing something for yourself. That’s commendable, especially in this day and age. I've done my research on you. Before a perspective employee walks through the doors of my company, I can assure you I've done my homework and I know everything I need to know.”
My face heats again. “Thank you for your kind words, Bryce, but I think we should get back to our meeting.” I clear my throat and compose myself. “You mentioned me solely working for you and being in your office and home. So I can choose your clothes?”
He laughs. “Precisely. So, as a twenty-two year old college graduate, where do you see yourself in the next few years?” He’s distracting me with simply being in the same room.
“How do you know how old I am?” I blurt out without thinking.
This question makes him smirk again. Damn, that smirk and what it’s doing to me. “Homework, Madison. I excel with finding out everything I need to.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“So back to my question...”
“How old are you?” I challenge.
He gazes at me intently before answering. “That's not important.”
I scoff. “I beg to differ. You seem to know everything about me so it's only fair I know more about you.”
Chapter 5
Madison
He flicks me an amused look, and ignores what I said. “Why don’t you tell me what events you need outfits for?” It’s taking everything in me not to swoon over how perfect this man is. The way he’s looking at me tells me he knows the effect he has on my body. I pull myself back and think of something else, so I won’t make a fool of myself.
“I’d like to get to know you more.”
“What else do you want to know? I’ve told you so much already.”
“What’s your favorite flower?”
I tilt my head to the side and reveal more than I intend to. “Orchids, lilies, and tulips. I hate white flowers because they remind me of funerals. Yellow flowers aren’t appealing. I like the pink and red flowers. When I get flowers, it’s from someone who cares about me, so that’s why I like those colors in my bouquet.” I need to bring this conversation back to why I’m here. I have no intention of being friendly with Bryce outside of my job. At this point, since no work has been done, I should walk out of his office and head back. I’ll explain to Glenn that Bryce needs a new stylist and I shouldn’t work with him. “Can we discuss your wardrobe?”
Bryce lifts his brow, clearly surprised that I’m changing the topic and not playing his games. “Of course.” He gets up from the couch and leans against his massive desk. “I need a casual outfit, a few workout outfits, and a new tuxedo.”
I write down what he needs and make a note to check his file. “Is everything on the file for you updated?”
“Yes.”
I keep my eyes down and steady my breathing. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll head back and get these outfits picked out and shipped to your home.”
Bryce’s hand gently rests on mine, and the tingles of his touch explode across my skin. “I’d like for you to drop them off this evening.”
I clear my throat and avert my attention from our hands to his eyes. His perfect caramel-colored eyes.
Deep.
Sensual.
Beautiful.
“Excuse me?”
He smirks and cocks his head to the side. “As my personal stylist, I need you to take in that whatever I need, you’ll do it for me. Didn’t Glenn explain my expectations?”
I smile politely. “I understand, and yes, he did. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Now, I’m annoyed. Forget how gorgeous and perfect he is because below all that is a spoiled man who thinks everyone should fall at his feet.
“Since you refuse to have dinner with me tonight, I’ll have dinner ready for us when you come over to drop off the outfits. Tonight, Madison.”
This isn’t a battle I’m going to win so I wave the imaginary white flag and submit to his demand. “Okay, fine.”
“Okay, then. We’re all set.”
If he continues to stare at me in that manner, my body will burst into flames. I’m watching the way his eyes are drinking me in. His pupils dilate, and the colors of his eyes turn lustful. My skin’s burning with desire, and I can’t shake it off. The electric current flowing between us pulls us together like two magnets of opposite polarities. All common sense dies while my body comes alive again. The scorching sensation causes me to slowly lose myself in him, and I have zero control when I’m in the same space as him. The attraction I feel doesn’t dissipate when he inches closer to me and brushes his finger across my cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The action only fuels the fire.
“Are you okay?”
This is pathetic. I’m a damn professional, and I can act like it. So what if he can make my panties twist and run off with just a look? The amusement on his face annoys me to no end. He knows what he’s doing to me and won’t back off. There’s no way I can accept him as my sole client.
I can’t.
No.
I won’t do that to myself.
There’s a knock on the door, and the corners of his lips twitch a little before he looks up and away from me. I take this interruption as a chance to silently blow out my breath.
“Mr. Hunter, here’s your lunch.”
“Thank you, Monica.”
Monica, the beautiful woman with long blond hair and pretty dark blue eyes, is wearing a skintight black dress. Her heels are sleek black. The way she’s looking at him causes a small pang of jealousy.
Oh, shut up, Madison.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Hunter.”
Monica leaves his office and shuts the door. Once it’s closed again, he turns to me and motions for me to sit down at the conference table by the window.
“We can go over what I prefer while we have lunch. The information you may have on me needs to be updated.”
“Now? I thought you just said everything on file is up to date.”
“Why ever not?” he asks, studying my expression. “I’d like to make sure you have what you need. I’m a man with high expectations, and I don’t like mistakes, Madison. Mistakes are a sign of not paying att
ention or being careful. I’d like for you to understand where I’m coming from.”
Before I’m able to answer, he places his hand on the small of my back and pushes me over to the conference table. He pulls out a chair, so I can sit down. His touch scorches my skin, and I don’t want him to let go. The fierce control he has over my movements is making me mentally berate myself for allowing this to happen. This behavior isn’t professional.
“Is there anything else I should know about you?” he asks, taking out the containers from the bags and putting the food on each plate. “I hope you like Thai.”
“I do.”
“It’s very spicy. Extreme. Can you handle that?”
My breath catches, and I remind myself he’s talking about the food and not anything sexual.
“Of course. The more extreme, the better.” I close my eyes and realize what I just said and how it could be misinterpreted.
“Good to know, Madison.”
He walks over and places the plate in front of me before going back to finish his plate and then strolling to his chair. Without moving his eyes away from me, he sits down.
Stop being a dork. Seriously. Get your shit together, Madison! I yell at myself. Since coming into his office, I’ve been acting ridiculous. Come on. I’ve been around hot guys before. Bryce Hunter isn’t anything special even if we had a hot night together. I need to push it aside and remember to remain professional.
We eat in silence, and I’m so thankful. That is, until he says, “Seven o’clock. Be sure you are prompt.”
“Don’t worry about me being late or not coming.”
“Oh, I know you’ll come, Madison. I don’t doubt that at all. You’ll be frequently coming.”
That’s it. I cannot and will not work for this sexy as sin man. The dimple in his cheek appears, and it’s the sexiest thing about him besides his dark brown eyes.
“May I use the bathroom?”
“Of course.” Bryce stands up from his chair and comes to stand next to me, extending his hand. I take it, and feel the heat rushing through my arm. This electric current is something I've never felt, and I'm not sure what to make of it.
He guides me to the back of his office and gestures for me to go in. “Thank you,” I whisper. I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder and see the smoldering look he's giving me. I shiver from the desire pooling in his eyes. He’s the only man to ever look at me like that.
And I like it.
Walking in, I shut the door behind me. I stare at the door, wondering if Bryce is standing out there waiting. Locking it, I walk backward until my back hits the counter. It's beginning to be too much being here with him—the man I had my first one-night stand with. All the emotions and thoughts sprinting in my mind are throwing me back and forth. I have no idea what to do.
After doing my business, I try to formulate a plan, but nothing's coming to mind. I'm not a good liar or bullshitter. He'll see right through me. Turning on the faucet, I allow the warm water to run down my hands. Then pressing my hands to my cheeks, I try to calm down the heat that’s building.
“You are a professional, Madison Smith. Professional. Stop looking at him like that. Stop drooling, and for fuck’s sake, pull yourself together,” I chastise myself in the mirror.
I have way too much on my shoulders. I can’t mess up my job here, and there’s no way I can ever be involved with a man like Bryce Hunter again. We’re too different. He's confident and runs an empire while I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Plus, he looks like a man who only dates models and the most beautiful women in the world. I’m not ugly, by any means, but there’s a difference between drop-dead gorgeous and cute.
Instead of paper towels, I find heated washcloths. Well, that’s interesting. I press the warm cloth to my cheeks, one at a time, and let out a breath before placing it in a bin and exiting the bathroom. As the door shuts behind me, I see Bryce Hunter leaning against the wall.
Chapter 6
Madison
“This isn’t going to work. First, I’m a brand-new employee. Second, I don’t plan on being a personal stylist for long. Third, we slept together so there’s a conflict of interest. Kaylee is much more passionate than I am. You’d be much happier with her expertise.” I keep my tone steady. I can't let him know how much he's affecting me.
He pushes his tall and commanding body off the wall. His dark brown eyes don’t waver from mine. “You. I want you. And not only as my stylist,” he says quietly. He reaches into his pocket and hands me a folded note. I take it and open the letter, gasping because he kept it and because I wrote If it’s supposed to happen, then we’ll meet in the middle. “I can't stop thinking about that night.”
An unintentional sigh escapes my lips at his words. “I wrote this not knowing if we’d ever see each other again.” I gulp. “Bryce ...”
“I’ll see you at seven.”
“Okay.”
“By the way,” he says while moving closer to me and into my personal space, “you look very beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Somehow, I manage to accept the compliment without sounding like a squeaky child.
“Drive safely,” he tells me. I nod and walk out of his office.
Don’t look back.
Yet I do.
Pulsing heat dances over my skin with because he’s standing in his office staring at me.
Big and Scary, hands me a card with Bryce’s information, and there's his number on the card as well. Peter, that's his name as per what's on the card, walks silently with me to my car.
“Peter?”
“Yes, Ms. Smith?”
I turn my head toward the office, and then look at Peter. “Is Bryce always so … overbearing?”
Peter smirks. “Not usually.”
“Oh.”
“He’s a good man, Ms. Smith. Drive safely.”
“Thanks.”
Getting in my car, I digest what Peter said, and the way Bryce is getting under my skin. I’m not in any position to have a relationship, especially with a client. There must be some policy that states employees shall not be intimate with clients. I’ll find the policy and let it resonate in my mind because there’s no way I can ever be seen with Bryce again. The only exception is going over his clothing options. It’s going to be a challenge, and I’m not completely sure how to handle everything. There’s no denying I find the man attractive, but these feelings can never develop any further than they already have. My night with him keeps playing in my head, and I lose focus. If I put myself in a position to get hurt, then I will.
I’m about to drive back to work when I realize I don’t have my folder with all my notes. The walk back is quicker. I’m not going to linger; I’ll just grab my things and leave. The receptionist isn’t at her desk, so I head toward his office. Big and Scary isn’t around either. I knock on the door, and a female says to come in.
When I open the door, a beyond gorgeous woman with long blonde hair, high cheekbones, and plump lips is sitting on his desk with her hand on his arm.
They look cozy.
Intimate.
A jealous wrench pumps through my blood and into my veins. I want to smack her hand off his arm and stare her down.
Oh, no. I am not feeling jealous. No!
Blondie eyes me suspiciously, her lips curling into a slight sneer. I instantly don’t like her or want to get to know her. She seems to have a stick up her ass, and we haven’t even spoken. Right now, she and I are in a battle to see who’ll falter first.
“Madison,” Bryce says and pushes Blondie’s hand away, making her avert her eyes from mine to Bryce’s hand on the desk.
I win. Ha!
He stands and is starting to round his desk. In response, I grab my folder, smile, and wave before rushing out. I need to get out of here, beg Kaylee to take this account, and never ever think about Bryce Hunter again. Frantically, I press the down button on the elevator and look back to see if he’s coming after me. There’s no one. Part of me is
relieved, and the other is a little butt hurt. This only proves he’s a man whore, and I shouldn’t allow my body to burn from his look and touch. To him, women are conquests, and he’ll do anything to conquer. Little does he know, I’ll fight him to the death before I submit to him once again. I exit the elevator and rush back to the car and slide in.
A knock on my car window scares the crap out of me, and I turn to see it’s Bryce. Fucking Bryce is standing outside my door, waiting for me to open my car door, and come out to what ... talk?
I open the door and step out of my car, then lean against the door to wait and see what he’s going to say.
“Don’t ever walk away from me if I’m calling for you,” he demands. “Why’d you run like that?” His sexy and commanding voice travels straight to my core. I need to get it together. He’s my client. A very important client. This is my job, and I need to remain professional. I’m going to continue to repeat this until it settles in my mind and I can do my job without acting like a giddy schoolgirl. Sure, he’s a fucking sexy as sin man, and we shared a hot night together, but all of that’s in the past. We’re starting with a clean slate because he’s my client.
He’s my client.
He’s my client.
He’s my client.
I shake my head. “Why are you out here?” I can’t keep the frustration out of my voice.
Bryce’s hand reaches for me, and I shudder a breath. His finger takes a strand of my hair and twirls it between his fingers. I don’t move or look away.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Playing with your hair. Letting you know how badly I want you again. Your lips. I miss tasting you.” His voice slows and turns deep. It’s driving my body crazy and making me hyper alert. “You’ll see you feel the same, so I suggest not fighting this. Don’t run off like that again. I want you, Madison. No one else. Whatever you're thinking, don't.”