by Shell, C.
Pulling in to my assigned parking spot with only a few minutes to spare I hurry though the entry way, up the elevator, and make a dash past the reception area and into my office at the end of the hall to collect my things. I frantically gather up my papers and notes as I hear a small knock on the door. Glancing up I watch as my secretary Charity waltzes in asking if there is anything she can do to help. I really like Charity as a person, but her secretarial duties are limited at best. If I had to guess I would say the only reason she got the job she has is because her dad is dating my boss Cherie.
I hate it when people have things handed to them on a silver platter instead of having to work for what they get. My parents have been blessed with an abundance of wealth and prestige, but they worked hard everyday of their life to achieve every single penny they own and taught me to do the same.
"Thanks Charity, but I have everything I need."
Grabbing my computer tablet out of my bottom drawer I head out the door and down the hall towards the conference room. I stop before the large double wood doors and take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Running a shaky hand down the front of my dark grey pencil skirt and short sleeve silk blouse, I check myself over once more, making sure I didn't drop any lunch down the front of me or wrinkle my clothes too much on the drive back from lunch.
Satisfied that I still look professional and not a disheveled mess, I straighten my shoulders and plaster a megawatt smile on my face. Opening the doors I stride forward ready to show my boss exactly why she hired me and nail down this account.
Chapter 2
My smile falters and my feet halt the moment I hear the unmistakable sound and feel of the door knocking against something solid, followed by a deep resounding," What the fuck?"
The horrific look on Cherie's face in front of me is all the confirmation I need to know that I have really messed up this time. Without even opening my mouth I have already put our chance at gaining this new client at risk and possible legal action. Won't that look lovely on my resume?
Clasping my hands in front of me to stop them from trembling, I drop my head and stare down at the plush grey carpeted floor beneath my feet. I know I should turn around and apologize, but I am petrified and embarrassed to face the man I just maimed with a stupid door.
A deep yet playful laugh from the opposite side of the room draws me out of my mental butt kicking and back to my present dilemma. Cautiously glancing up I'm startled to find a handsome man sitting at the head of the boardroom table unabashedly laughing as though I had just told a funny joke instead of plowing into someone with the backside of a door. With every hard laugh his tight torso ripples and his too long wavy chocolate brown hair falls over his face and into his equally stunning brown eyes. My moment of shock is suddenly replaced with anger. I cannot believe he is laughing at me!
I can feel the heat slowly creep up my neck which is no doubt turning my pale face the color of a bright red tomato. I really hate this day.
My narrowed irritated eyes find his laughing ones. Noticing my irritation, he immediately straightens his body and tries to calm his antics. I give an audible sigh as his lips turn up at the corners giving me a reassuring half smile that calms me and makes my stomach feel weird and safe all at once.
Noticing Cherie hurriedly brush past me I drag my eyes from the mischievous smile on the man across from me and follow her movements. Cautiously turning around, I find myself face-to-face, with a very pissed off gorgeous God like man. If looks could kill I would be well on my way to being six feet under. I gulp and internally curse myself and my typical bad luck.
Finding my voice I manage to babble a meek apology while drinking in his tall height, broad muscular shoulders and long lean torso. Raking my eyes back up to his beautiful face I appreciate his strong jaw¸ rugged thick black inky hair, intense green eyes, and what I am sure to be an elegant nose when it is not covered in blood. Oh my God I caused that. I am so screwed!
I cannot believe I did that to him. I will be doing good to have my old cubicle back instead of being thrown out on my ass and jobless by the end of the day.
Snapping out of my internal panic and willing myself not to fall apart I surge forward and try to help Cherie by retrieving a few more tissues off the side table and handing them over to whom I assume to be Mr. Scott. Leave it to me to bust up the perfect nose of a major client and well known prominent business man. I am ashamed to say I did not know much about him the first time Cherie spoke his name, so I did what any respectable person would and researched him on Google.
I only found a few grainy photos of him, which obviously did not do him justice, but I was impressed to find out the man started up his own advertising company at the ripe age of eighteen and turned it into one of the top five largest advert agencies in the United States. I also found an old article on how he and his younger brother Trey, grew up in a foster home after losing both their parents to a car accident, Daemon was only 10 and Trey was 7. The article did not go into many details, but I am guessing either they have no other family or none of them stepped up to take care of them. I cannot even imagine the hell they went through with having to deal with not only the loss of their parents, but being thrown into foster care at the same time.
The most prominent information I found was about his social life. Mr. Scott has a reputation as a playboy and commitment phobe. He is only twenty-eight, but is already known for dipping his stick in a different playboy bunny or model every night of the week. Such a classy bastard...Not!
I try and avert my eyes, but they have a mind of their own and peruse every inch of his sinfully beautiful body while my hands itch to reach out and squeeze his biceps to see if they are really as hard as they look. His dark gray suite is custom, classy, and expensive. It fits him like a second skin and easily costs more than I make in a week. It should be illegal for a man to look so yummy and irate at the same time. Determined to save face and keep my job, I try once again to soothe the situation, and redeem myself in Cherie's eyes. .
"I am really sorry, Mr. Scott. I never imagined anyone would be standing behind the door. Please except my apology and don't hold my carelessness against Simons & Cash," I stutter as I gather up the used tissues and dispose of them.
I swear I think I just heard the bastard growl at me. I don't know what worries me more, the thought that a grown man of his caliber would actually growl or the fact that my panties are damp imagining him doing it. What the hell is wrong with me? Sexy man or not, it is wrong on so many levels for my body to be responding this way towards him.
"Maybe if you paid more attention to being on time and your surroundings you wouldn't have so many issues with being careless," he hisses under his breath and only loud enough for me to hear. I am left speechless. I cannot win with this man. Obviously forgiveness is not in his vocabulary.
I open my mouth several times to speak, but nothing more than a gasp comes out. I hate the effect this man is having on me. I want to knock him upside the head and kiss him all at once. "That was not my intention at all, Mr. Scott," I say quietly.
"Oh honey, don't worry about him. It will take more than a tap with hard wood and a little blood to damage that pretty face of his," laughs the man seated at the table. I glance another look his way, now wondering who he is, and why he continues to mock me. As if I need any help making an ass out of myself today.
I watch as he stands, stretching out his long legs, and saunters towards me extending his hand for me to shake. "I am Trey Scott, Daemon's younger brother, and new business partner."
"Kelly Dawson," I say sliding my hand into his own, and welcoming the warmth and strength it provides.
"Enough with the friendly pleasantries, Ms. Dawson." Mr. Scott murmurs against my ear as he walks around me. As he moves I get a whiff of his scent, a heady combination of cinnamon and spice. It is a very manly scent. He smells sexy, if that is at all possible. Completely the opposite of Gary, who always smelled of soap and a light musk scent. Before I can comprehend what
is happening he has already clasped a strong hand around my shoulder and is steering me towards the boardroom table and away from his brother.
"Let's get this meeting started. I have a busy schedule today."
My jaw hangs open as I stare down at Mr. Scott and mentally picture slapping that smug, sexy scowl right off that beautiful face of his. Never has a man made me feel so furious and horny all at once.
Hearing Cherie's voice snaps me back into professional mode and I mimic her movements as I take a seat next to her at the table and thank all that is mighty that I am only here for back up today and not expected to run this meeting. Placing my bag beside my chair I pull out my tablet and a pen and paper for notes. I can do this. I am a professional business woman and good at my job. I just need to sit here, nod at the appropriate times, and once he leaves I will throw myself at Cherie's mercy and beg to keep my job and position in this company. I smile at myself as my mental prep talk does the trick and my body begins to relax.
Feeling my chair bump into the table, my breath leaves my body and all thought of playing it cool goes out the window as Mr. Daemon Scott takes the seat beside mine, instead of the one across the table next to his brother. What the hell is playing at? His body is close enough to mine that I can feel the warmth radiating off him. How am I supposed to think let alone speak knowing I could move a bit more to my left and have my hands on the most scrumptious body I have ever laid eyes on? This is a complete mind fuck!
Cherie does an amazing job laying out her proposal with color swatches, 3D computer animated walk through of her design, and fabric samples for all to ooh and awe over. I normally love these types of meetings and absorb every word Cherie says in hopes to learn from her. I hope to be able to conduct one of these important meetings one day soon on my own.
Today is not one of those days. If I was to be quizzed about what her key points were, the only answers I would have is that she plans on using the color beige as the dominant color, large windows in all top offices, and white marble is a flooring option. I was doing well at the beginning of her speech, but the moment his knee casually bumped against mine under the table I was a goner. I have shifted my legs and readjusted myself in my seat no less than three times and yet his legs, knees, and even his feet have still managed to find mine time and time again.
The first time I tried to ignore it and pass it off as a mistake, but after the third bump, I think it is safe to admit it was no mistake. I don't know how to make him stop without drawing attention to what he is doing. What is he doing? I think he is too old to be playing footsy under the table.
Darting my eyes his way, I'm taken aback to find him staring at me and not paying one bit of attention to the presentation. His eyes are filled with mirth and I can tell he is trying his best to suppress his laughter. His dimples wink at me and as much as I try and be mad at him, it is hard. He is adorable, sexy, dangerous, and a complete puzzle. The bad thing is that I really like puzzles, and once I start one it is hard to make me stop until all the pieces fit perfectly together.
Hearing Cherie's tone change, I release a breath of relief knowing she is at the end of her presentation and I will finally get a chance to leave the table and let them finish their negotiations. I just want to slink back to my office and get back to own accounts. Daemon Scott is sex on a stick, but he is way out of my league. Hell, he is in a league of his own. To keep my sanity intact I need as far away from him as I can get.
Noticing Cherie's eyes dart towards mine, I take my cue and stand up and prepare to leave. Shoving my tablet back into my bag, I throw it over my shoulder and turn my attention back towards our guests to say my good-bye and start my retreat back to safety.
"It was nice meeting you both. I do hope you choose to acquire our services. Cherie is amazing and one of the best designers. I am confident you won't be disappointed."
Before I can slip through the door I hear his voice. My feet stop dead in their tracks.
"Ms. Dawson, if you could add or change something to the design, what would it be?"
Normally, a question like this would not faze me. Clients have asked my opinion from time to time over the year and I always come back with a witty comment that will no doubt put a smile on Cherie's face and help put the clients at ease. A win-win for everyone involved.
That is not the case this time. Not only do I not remember most of her presentation, I never read over her proposal before she presented it. I swear I can feel all eyes boring down on me, and the clock on the wall sounds loud and forbidding, like a time bomb ticking down to my professional demise. Taking a deep breath I frantically think back to the 3D walk through from earlier and zone in on the few details that stood out to me.
"Umm...Instead of going with marble floors, which would no doubt give the space a professional and upscale image, I would opt for macassar ebony milled hardwood. It is a beautiful dark natural hardwood that would give the area warmth and a more inviting feel. I would also add electronic frosted privacy glass to your offices and conference rooms. It will give you the privacy you need while maintaining the 'we don't do anything half ass' look you seem to be going for."
"I like that," Daemon says grinning. My heart instantly begins to beat a fast tune as his warm green eyes travel over the length of my body. Lust licks at my body and everything inside me warms and tingles all at once. For several seconds, our gazes never leave one another and it feels as if we are the only ones in the room.
It is the first time I have seen him smile since I walked through the door. Damn, if he doesn't have the sexiest smile with twin dimples that excite me way more than they should. I let out a breath I never realized I was holding as my shoulders sag in relief. I need out of here before I have a chance to say or do something inappropriate, like reaching over and licking one of those dimples that keep teasing me. Get it together Kelly, I mentally scold myself. They are just dimples!
Gripping my bag, I turn and make my escape. Bypassing Charity I keep going and do not stop until I am safely encased in my office with the door soundly shut. Throwing my bag down, I sink into my soft leather chair and stare out my window, not noticing any one thing in particular. On a normal day the view from my office would calm me and keep me grounded, but today is no normal day.
A sharp knock on my office door draws my head around and I quickly pull myself before shouting," Come in."
"Well, that was an interesting meeting," Cherie says as she strides in and flops down in the chair across from my desk. She looks exhausted.
"I know and I am so sorry. How bad is it? Did they drop us completely or just think I am a total idiot? I acted like a total idiot." I ramble on as I mentally prepare to either be demoted or kicked to the curb. Truthfully, I won't blame for her doing either.
Cherie barks out a loud laugh that leaves me stunned and a bit confused.
"Honey, you not only just closed the deal with Mr. Daemon Scott, you stole the show," she says with pride. "He was so impressed with your insight that he has requested that you head the project and be his 'go to' person on all questions and dealings pertaining to it."
Oh hell...
Maybe being fired was not a bad option after all...
Chapter 3
Three glasses of wine and half a pepperoni pizza later, and I still cannot wrap my mind around what the hell happened today. My first reaction to the news was "Oh yea, I get to head my first project all by myself," but then reality sunk in and my second reaction was," Oh shit, there is no way I can work one on one professionally with Daemon Scott for any length of time. I was not even able to sit through a meeting with him without making a complete fool of myself."
I tried repeatedly to decline the offer, but Cherie blew me off saying it was not up for negotiation. Mr. Scott made it perfectly clear to her, that as long as I head up his project, then he will over look my "carelessness" with the door, and not hold Cash and Simmons responsible for any damage caused. How do you say no to that?
Taking another sip of the cool c
risp wine in my glass, I continue to contemplate the many whys that continues to spin around in my head. Why does he want to work with me? Why does my stomach twist up like a pretzel every time those stormy green eyes of his lock on mine? Why does the thought of working with him make me smile?
I refuse to voice the answers to those questions out loud. Doing so would only prove that I am in way over my head. With so much riding on this job, I can't allow that to happen. I have to find a way to deal with Daemon without actually having to be alone with him or near him for long periods of time. I have never met a man that oozes power and control the way he does. My girlie bits can't get enough of his commanding attitude. Hell, they crave it and ask for seconds while the sensible side of me is busy planning my escape route. If nothing else, the next few months should be interesting.
Dragging my tired ass back into the kitchen, I clean up my mess and put away the rest of the food before turning off the lights and retiring to my bedroom. Between my lunch with friends and work, this day has drained me. I need sleep and lots of it.
Out of all the rooms in my apartment that I have decorated, my bedroom is my most favorite. I think it is because for once I was allowed to do it my way and did not have to worry about it being too girlie or colorful, which would have driven Gary crazy. He was a stickler for natural masculine colors, which as a designer I use all the time, but everyone knows you need at least one brighter color mixed in to make a room shine and stand out. Gary either lost that memo or refused to acknowledge it. Our bedroom was as drag and boring as our sex life.