Watching You

by Leslie A. Kelly

  Reece had to smile back, broadly, completely charmed and knowing they’d turned a corner. Seeing his reaction, she gasped. Her cheeks heated up, and he had to wonder why she seemed more affected by a simple smile than she had by a sincere apology.

  He didn’t understand her, not yet. But he was going to. He would just do it up front, out in the open from here on out.

  Her face flushed, she got back to business. “So, I’m your intern. What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re at my beck and call.”

  “During work hours,” she pointed out.

  He didn’t try to soften the truth. “Sure. Plus after hours. Late nights. Weekends. It all depends on how busy I am. And believe me, I’m always busy.”

  “Oh,” she whispered.

  “As you probably noticed, the office is small, mostly for administrative functions. I travel a lot and am usually on set at one of the studios I’m working with or renting. Or I’m filming out of town. I have to go to Colorado next month to check out some locations my scout is recommending. You’ll come with me.”

  A suspicious furrow appeared between her brows.

  “It’s part of the job, Jessica. Don’t go doubting me now. You can call my last intern, Walter, if you want a reference—he’ll tell you I’m an asshole and a perfectionist. He’ll also tell you he worked sixty hours a week, traveled everywhere, and had no personal life.” He smiled. “And that he landed a job with Miramax right after graduation.”

  Her relieved smile said she found the thought of being worked to death comforting. “We will have separate rooms during all these trips?”

  “Of course.” At least until she decided she didn’t want to.

  “With all these hours and the travel, I guess it’s just as well I lost my other job.”

  Reece frowned. He suspected he knew why—the publicity might have been good for business, but it was probably also a distraction. He had to be honest, at least with himself, and admit he wasn’t unhappy she wouldn’t be working there anymore. He hated that men might sometimes put their hands on buns other than those on their plates. But he also hated that her association with him had cost her something more than a dress and her peace of mind.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged, reaching for her purse. “You’re paying me more.”

  Then she couldn’t have been making much. He wondered how she supported herself and went to school in Southern California on a waitress’s salary. That had to require some serious dedication and work ethic. “It’s not enough. I’m giving you a raise.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You can’t.”

  “Actually, I’m the owner, and I can.”

  “Absolutely not. I’m not going to start out here as the teacher’s pet, or be thought of as the bimbo who got her job because the boss wants to jump her bones.”

  She was right. He didn’t want her viewed that way by any of his staff. Even though he did, very much, want to jump her bones. “All right. We’ll start you where we start all interns, and reevaluate in a month, based on performance. Fair?”

  “Fair. So, boss”—she dug in her purse until she found a pad of paper and a pen—“reminding you to kill your brother is the first thing on my to-do list. Anything else?”

  Damn, she was sharp. He’d never had a smart-ass for an assistant, and he suspected he was going to like it. Most employees—as well as rising actors and Hollywood wannabes—treated him with head-down respect. This gorgeous, red-haired, aspiring screenwriter would give as good as she got. He could hardly wait to get started.

  “Thanks for the reminder. Your second task will be to write a speech for me for a dinner being held one week from tonight. I’ll also need you to attend with me as my date.” Seeing her mouth drop open on the word date, he explained. “It’s part of the job.”

  “Did Walter go last year?” she asked, sounding suspicious.

  “He would have, if I’d attended. Besides, we should appear in public. I have to introduce you as my new intern. It will help with the rumors.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I know this town. It will dampen the whispers about why we were alone in the gallery.” He couldn’t lie to her, adding, “That doesn’t mean all the talk will stop, but it could help.”

  “Do you always show up at big events with your intern?”

  “Call Walter and ask him.”

  “You expect me to believe he was your arm candy last year?”

  “I guess you didn’t see the tabloid articles,” he said with a sigh.

  “Oh, I saw them,” she admitted. “But nobody in the world could convince me you were gay. And that was before you got me naked on the table.”

  Jessica. Naked on the table. Christ.

  He had to shift in his seat to relieve the sudden tightness in his pants. How was he going to keep this professional, at least long enough for her to trust him again? The only way he’d have another chance with her was to wait until she decided she wanted to give him a second shot. He’d consigned himself to a special kind of hell and a devilish torment.

  “Are you going to tell me what this speech of yours is for?”

  He wasn’t comfortable talking about his philanthropic work. “I’ll have my administrative assistant, Abigail, email you the details as soon as we’re finished.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s a formal event.”

  Nibbling her lip, she nodded slowly. “Got it.”

  He thought about her blue dress, torn by glass and stained with flecks of blood. Hers and his. Did she have anything else to wear? Well, he’d make sure she did. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to argue about it, and knowing she would.

  “Anything else?”

  “When can you start?”

  “My last final is tomorrow morning.”

  “Perfect. You’re mine full-time after that.”

  She considered his remark. “As long as we both remember it’s just for work.”

  “Oh, of course.” At least until she dropped the pretense that she didn’t want him as much as he wanted her. He rose from his chair. “Now, if you’re finished telling me off, and I’ve groveled sufficiently…”

  “You didn’t grovel,” she pointed out, rising as well. “You simply apologized.”

  “I’m not good at groveling.”

  “Color me shocked.”

  The woman was hard on the ego. “Come on, let me show you the building and introduce you around so you can hit the ground running.”

  She followed quickly, as if pleased at the prospect. Jessica had already met his administrative assistant, and they seemed to like each other. They talked for a few more minutes, the older woman advising her to bring a sweater since the building could get cold.

  They hit the break room for fresh-brewed coffee, and then he showed her where she’d be working—in a small cubicle appropriate for an intern. Then he walked her around the technical spaces. The building contained a green room where he sometimes did touch-up shots, and a small cutting room, which he seldom used in favor of a larger one they rented from time to time. There was also a soundproofed studio where he held readings, plus a storage room filled with original prints of past projects.

  She asked pertinent questions, showing she knew her stuff. And she was friendly and professional with his other staff members: two people in HR, one in accounting, four in media, and one in legal. If any of them had seen the news reports and wondered why he’d hired her, they were professional and loyal enough not to show it. He knew she’d had the same worry, but he could feel Jessica relaxing with every introduction.

  “Do you have any questions?” he asked when they’d finished the tour.

  “No, I think I’ve got it, and I’m raring to go.”

  He nodded, agreeing with her. She had already shown him she had energy, ideas, and talent. If he had never laid eyes on her before today, he would still have been impressed as hell.

  Knowing himself, he also suspected he’d have been asking
himself if it would be totally out of line to kiss her. Kind of like he’d been doing all afternoon.

  If he didn’t, he might just lose his mind.

  Yes, he was putting the decision into her hands, and he wasn’t going to push her. That didn’t mean the smallest nudge would be totally wrong, did it?

  They were in the building’s lobby. Because the entrance was key coded, with an intercom outside, they didn’t use security. The entire first level housed the technical and storage rooms, no offices. That meant it was completely empty. They were alone.

  “So, tomorrow’s your first day as my intern,” he said, looking down at her. Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “Yes, and I can’t wait to start.”

  “Meaning today is not.”

  She tilted her head in confusion. “I guess so.”

  “Good.”

  He didn’t say anything else, merely sinking his hands into her hair, wrapping the one loose strand around his fingers, and pulling down all the rest from its bun. She looked about to complain, but before she said a word, he covered her mouth with his, and her indignation quickly became a sigh of acceptance.

  Those luscious lips parted for him, her tongue welcoming his as the kiss became hotter, wetter. Carnal. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tilted her head so he could explore her deeper. With her soft, curvy body pressed against his, he couldn’t help remembering how it had felt to watch that dress fall to the floor Friday night. The images had haunted him every night since. He’d gone to sleep thinking about her long legs, curvy hips, slim waist, and full breasts…even if they had been covered with tape.

  They weren’t now. He felt the erect points pressing against her blouse. God, how he wanted to unbutton it and touch her, skin to skin. He wanted to stroke her nipples, draw them into his mouth and suck them while she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him even closer.

  He dropped one hand to her hip, and then cupped her perfect ass. She groaned, arching into him. His rock-hard cock nestled into the warmth at the top of her thighs, and he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting. His heart thudded when she shifted her legs apart to let him.

  A car honked from outside. She stiffened, snapping out of the spell that had enveloped them both. With one last hungry exploration of her mouth, he ended the kiss and stepped away.

  Jessica’s heavy breaths matched his, and he suspected her heart was pounding, too. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips red and swollen.

  Her eyes, of course, held fire.

  “What was that, Mr. Winchester?”

  “A kiss, Miss Jensen. Just a kiss.”

  “Bosses aren’t supposed to kiss their employees.”

  “Ahh-ahh, you agreed that you become my employee tomorrow.”

  “That was very sneaky.”

  “A man who won’t be sneaky to get a kiss from the woman he wants can’t want it very much.” She rolled her eyes, so he stopped yanking her chain. “Look, it was the last time. I respect you, and want others to as well. That means I won’t be kissing you again.” He lowered his voice into a hungry whisper. “At least not until you decide you’re ready.”

  She pushed her loose hair back and tucked it behind her ears. He’d made a mess of it but couldn’t say he was sorry. “So that was a goodbye kiss?”

  “If you want to call it that. Personally, I’d call it ‘See you later.’”

  “I thought you said that was the last time, and it wouldn’t happen again.”

  “I think you need your hearing checked. I said it wouldn’t happen again until you’re ready.”

  Her smirk was made of sheer bravado. “Hate to tell you this, but you’ll be waiting a long time.”

  He noticed the top button of her blouse was undone, and he stepped in to fasten it, and finally replied, “No, I don’t think I will.”

  “You really are a cocky bastard.”

  He laughed out loud, liking that someone finally had the nerve to tell him what they thought of him, especially here, in the building he owned. “Yes, I am a cocky bastard. Admit it, though. You like that about me.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “I have been.” The button finished, he scraped the tip of his index finger up her throat. “All joking aside, Jessica, I really don’t think it’s going to be too long until you realize the truth.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Whatever happened Friday night, whatever mistakes I’ve made since the day I first saw you…” He leaned close enough to brush his cheek against her hair, inhaling to capture the tropical scent. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

  * * *

  Jessica arrived at work even earlier than she’d promised. Knowing she had kicked ass on her last exam that morning, she couldn’t stop smiling. Now she got to start her new job, really becoming a part of the industry she’d been so passionate about for years.

  The thought of working side by side with Reece Winchester didn’t hurt her mood any, either. Even if she hadn’t entirely forgiven him for that hot kiss he’d laid on her yesterday, which had left her confused, achy, and horny as hell.

  Nope, nope, nope, she reminded herself.

  Bopping her head to some cheerful music playing on the radio, she pulled her dilapidated PT Cruiser into the parking lot, seeing Reece sitting in the driver’s seat of a nearby sedan. Its engine was running, and Reece was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, watching her closely as he talked into his phone. His frown said his mood wasn’t quite as upbeat as hers.

  He lowered his phone. “Come on, we have to go over to Sunset Bronson,” he called.

  She took his command in stride, actually pleased he was all business right from the first minute. That kiss yesterday had been amazing—mind-altering—however, it had also worried her. Yes, he’d promised to step back to within appropriate boundaries, but she hadn’t been entirely sure until now that he would do it.

  She grabbed her laptop bag, hurried as quickly as was possible in heels to the other side of his car, and slid into the passenger seat. “Good morning.”

  “I’ve been waiting.”

  She pointed toward his dashboard clock. “It’s seven minutes before eleven.”

  “I didn’t say you were late,” he said, his mind obviously elsewhere. Gesturing toward two foam cups in the center console, he added, “The one in back is yours.”

  “Oh, thanks. The coffee on campus is horrible.” She took a sip and sighed. “How’d you know how I take it?”

  “I made you some in the break room yesterday.”

  “I’m surprised you noticed. Or remembered.”

  “I have a pretty good memory.”

  “So what’s up? Why are we going to the studio?”

  “I hire space there. My editing team discovered a problem with something we filmed in New Mexico a couple of months ago.”

  “The new Reynolds film?”

  “Yes. I really don’t want to call the cast and crew back there to reshoot, so I’m going to see if we can do some creative cutting or rewriting and salvage what we’ve got.”

  “Sounds great,” she said, enthused at the prospect.

  “That’s not how I’d describe it.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it’s great that you have to fix a problem like that.” What a way to start her job—being happy about her boss having difficulties with his work.

  “Forget it, I understand. Is this your first time in a big studio?”

  “I went on some backstage visits for school, and obviously there’s a nice setup on campus. But almost all of my experience has been on student films. I’ve never been involved with detailed editing of a major motion picture.”

  “Well, welcome to your crash course.”

  “I can’t wait. Did you just direct or did you write the screenplay?”

  “Both.”

  “What’s it about?”

  He gave her a quick synopsis of the film, a sexy thriller with a romantic triangle and lots of twists. It
was the kind of movie he was perfect in, and she wished he were starring in it, too. But she had the feeling his acting days were over.

  “Sounds awesome. I can’t wait to see it. What happened that you have to fix?”

  Shaking his head ruefully, he replied, “Same old story—some local screwed up the shot. The crew didn’t even notice him hamming it up on the roof of the building next door.”

  These days, everyone tried to be famous by mugging for the camera whenever one was around. “Oh dear. I guess that’s the danger of filming outside the studio.”

  “Definitely. Anywhere that’s harder to control increases the chances for a screw-up. There are some infamous ones that slipped through editing and made it on screen. They’re almost legends now.”

  “I remember the modern truck driving by in the background of a John Wayne Western.”

  “Not to mention the magical moving duffel bag in Stripes.”

  “The white van in the battle scene of Braveheart. The kid covering his ears in North by Northwest.”

  He looked impressed. “You do know your movie trivia.”

  “I could play this game all day. I told you, movies were my escape as a kid. I was an addict even before my mother died. When she was in hospice, I’d curl up with her on her bed and we’d watch old classics on TCM.”

  Seeing the way he looked at her, with warmth and sympathy, she wished she hadn’t said anything. To prevent him from trying to come up with a suitable reply, she quickly asked, “Has anything like that ever happened with one of your other movies?”

  “Twice,” he said, following her lead. “Neither error made it all the way through the editing process into the final product.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “With today’s critics and audiences? If there’s a mistake, you can guaran-damn-tee it’ll be pointed out on Rotten Tomatoes before it even goes wide.”

  She had to nod, conceding the point. The consumer had gained a lot of power in this business, which, as a movie lover, she considered a positive change. But it did seem a shame that some films got shoved into streaming services or secondary channels because early word of mouth was negative. Not any of Reece’s, certainly, but it happened to others.