Emerald Eyes

by N. Michaels

  Perfect.

  I accessorize it with a thin, black leather belt, that accentuates my narrow waist and pair it with my black Christian Louboutins. In the time I have left, I make a quick call to mama. I tell her about Miami and what’s it like being a executive assistant, she calls it karma of course, saying that now I serve someone else. I learn that she’s busy planning the fundraising Gala that Mr. Miller will be attending, and that she and papa will attend as well, me included.

  Oh joy.

  “I don’t have enough money to spend on a gown, mama.” I say sadly.

  I actually do, but I can’t spend thousands on one dress right now… holy crap, is this how regular people feel?

  “Oh… don’t you worry about that, I just saw a beautiful Dior Haute-Couture dress the other day, and it will be perfect on you!”

  “Ok mama, as long as you’re the one who’s paying for it.” I smile.

  If you want me there, you’ll take care of the details.

  After saying goodbye to mama, I call Milan, wanting to know how she and Vera have been doing. I get her voicemail. In her greeting message she says she’s in the Alps and should be back in two weeks. I’m not the slightest surprised, she always had an adventurous side. I leave her a short message, telling her that I miss her and that she should call me when she comes back. With twenty minutes left, I start getting ready.

  I’m dressed and my make up is applied. A black angled line of eyeliner on my upper lid, and lush top and bottom eyelashes covered with mascara, peach blush and honey lipstick. I shift my hair into a French twist, and let one strain of hair fall gently against my cheek. I put my 2-carat diamond stud earrings on, and grab my golden clutch. I head out of the suite, making my way to Prime One Twelve.

  I make it five minutes before seven. I approach the hostess; a tall, lean brunette dressed in black slacks and tight black button down shirt.

  “Hi, I’m Katherine Slav–“

  “Miss Slav, of course. Please follow me.” She interrupts me and smiles widely. I nod and smile back politely.

  She leads me up the stairs, to the second floor then stops for a moment to remove the velvet rope that is stretched out in front of us, indicating that this is a private space. She points at the right table, at the end of the room. I thank her and admire the stylish room, as I make my way to the table. The walls are dark chocolate wood and the ceiling has a beautiful chandelier, centered right in the middle of the ceiling, casting its soft light down on the room. Dark chocolate wood dividers, separate each table, giving the feel of an intimate surrounding. The whole atmosphere of the room is oozing chicness and style.

  My gaze falls on Mr. Miller, who is rising to his feet. His face is awestruck. His eyes are roving over my body, up and down, and up and down again, until finally his luminous eyes settle on mine. Pure hunger simmers in them. Smiling, I approach him.

  So I do affect him…

  “Good evening, Mr. Miller. You look… sharp.”

  That’s not the honest truth. Mr. Miller doesn’t just look sharp. He looks scorching hot. His hair is combed neatly and his signature strands fall sexily on his forehead. He’s wearing a black fitted suit with a crisp white shirt and a dark silver tie. His turquoise eyes are blazing, as he gazes down at my face. A smoldering look, that makes me want to throw myself at him, but I know better than that.

  “Miss Slav… you look beautiful, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Mr. Miller’s voice comes out husky, but he’s being honest. I smile a sweet smile of relief, that this gorgeous man finds me beautiful.

  “No not at all. Thank you.”

  “Let’s sit down while we wait for the rest of our company.” Mr. Miller waves at the chair beside him and helps me to my chair, showing me that chivalry is not altogether dead.

  “Would you like to start with drinks?”

  I tear my hungry eyes away from Mr. Miller, finding the source of the question. A blond waitress is standing next to our table, staring shamelessly at Mr. Miller.

  “Just sparkling water for now, thank you… oh… and a slice of lemon.” Mr. Miller’s lips curve up slightly.

  “Same for me.” I look at him and smile at our private joke.

  “Lemon, huh?” I ask after our waitress leaves.

  Mr. Miller chuckles, “What can I say, it grew on me.”

  I wish I could grow on you…

  “I’m glad I can change your views on some matters. Life needs that little notch-up or else it will be extremely boring. In your case your sparkling water needed a slice of lemon.” I tease.

  “I can not wait to see what else you’ll introduce me to.” Something passes in his eyes. Something that looks like desire, but it vanishes as quickly as it came.

  We’ve been playing this teasing, flirting game, which I can play till tomorrow but for some reason I don’t want to play, not now… not with him.

  I need to know.

  And with that implosive thought, I lean towards him, “How strict are you regarding not mixing business and pleasure? I know you said you wouldn’t want me to hook-up with Patrick, but what about… you and me?” I whisper and the moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them.

  Great way not to threaten your newborn job…

  Mr. Miller pulls back sharply, and the look on his face worries me. His eyebrows shot up, his eyes wide and his seductive mouth is slightly open, with shock I presume. Mr. Miller frowns and stares at me for a moment, then suddenly, his gaze shifts to something behind me. He takes a deep breath and his face smooths out in a nanosecond. I look over my shoulder and focus on two men walking towards our table. Both men are dressed immaculately in designer suits.

  “Miller!” calls out the tall, blonde, older man that is reaching out his hand.

  “Collins.” Mr. Miller shakes his hand and introduces me to both men.

  They join us and the waitress is back to take out orders. They each order a steak. A Bone-in Rib Eye for Mr. Collins, a Filet Mignon for Mr. Ward and lastly, Mr. Miller orders the Porterhouse for two and looks at me with an unreadable face. I understand that he ordered for me as well and make no protest, even though I wanted the Rack of Lamb. The conversation quickly shifts into business discussions. They talk about buying some company and the value of it, but I can’t pay attention to any of it, because I’m too busy freaking out about my straightforward advance towards Mr. Miller.

  Oh. My. God. I hope he won’t fire me for that. What the hell was I thinking asking him that?

  He said it over lunch. He doesn’t mix the two! Where is that ‘value’ now? I groan inwardly.

  I remained silent throughout dinner, which felt like an eternity, trying my best to eat, even though my throat was tightly shut from mortification. The torture was finally over, when Mr. Miller paid the check without even looking at it.

  “How long are you staying in Miami?” Mr. Ward asks Mr. Miller, and then looks at me with a sly smile.

  “Until Saturday.” Mr. Miller replies, giving me a look I don’t completely understand. Or pretend to not understand.

  “Well… we must leave. We have a seven a.m. meeting tomorrow.” Mr. Collins pats Mr. Ward on the shoulder. They rise and we follow.

  “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Slav.” Mr. Collins smiles and we shake hands.

  “Likewise, Mr. Collins.”

  “Looking forward to meeting you again.” Mr. Ward gives me a warm smile.

  When I reach to shake his hand, I find a card in his palm. It’s probably his business card.

  Ugh… seriously?

  I take it, not wanting to embarrass him, but he’s really not my type.

  “Nice meeting you Mr. Ward.” I smile politely.

  I place the card discreetly in my clutch, but when I lift my eyes, I find Mr. Miller looking down at me. His face is smooth and unreadable.

  Damn.

  “Excuse me.” I breathe out and head to the ladies room.

  I must isolate myself from all this testosterone. I head to the sink and grab a paper towel.
I wet it and pat my forehead, taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

  Oh God… please don’t let me lose my job.

  I don’t understand him. Every man I’ve met since we got here has been hitting on me.

  Except for him.

  I exhale loudly and frown. I stand there, looking at my reflection and see a strong woman that always had men wrapped around her little finger. I encourage myself to push all self-doubt aside and go back with my head high. When I come out of the restroom, I find Mr. Miller sitting alone, typing something on his Blackberry. I approach him and his eyes lift to meet mine.

  “Are you all right?” Mr. Miller asks as he rises to his feet.

  His intense eyes dig holes into mine, fierce with genuine concern that throws me off momentarily.

  “No… I – I mean… Yes. Did they leave?” I look around.

  “Yes, they couldn’t stay. Collins was very impressed by you, so was Ward.” His eyes sweep over my face for any sign of … what?

  “Why? I haven’t said a word over dinner.” I ask perplexed.

  “It’s not what you did or didn’t say, it’s your presence and company.”

  “Great. I’m glad I made a good first impression.” I smile.

  I was brooding and picking at my food, I wasn’t even paying attention to their conversation. How could have I made a good impression?

  “Shall we?” Mr. Miller waves his hand at the staircase.

  I nod and walk past him, down the stairs. As we walk past the bar, I hear someone calling my name, shouting it actually. I freeze in place. Mr. Miller bumps into my back since I stopped so abruptly, and then places his hands on my shoulders, effectively stopping me from flying forward.

  He feels like a concrete wall slamming into you.

  “Kate! Hey! Katherine? Is that you?”

  I turn my head and my suspicion turns into reality.

  “M – Mark?” my voice is low and astonished.

  “Yeah! Hey kissa! How you’ve been?” Mark tries to hug me, but stops midway as his eyes shifts to Mr. Miller’s hands that are resting on my shoulders then lift to Mr. Miller’s face. I stand immobilized.

  What…?

  Mark’s onyx eyes shift between Mr. Miller and me, his dirty blond hair is layered all around, a bit longer since the last time I saw him. His body is still the same, smooth tan skin, over rock hard muscles. Images of him flash before my eyes, while he was stark naked and exerting himself on top of me. I take deep breath and look at Mr. Miller, speechless and utterly uncomfortable.

  Why am I so dumbstruck? I never just freeze like this. I should just introduce them.

  But my tongue feels like lead, lying useless in my mouth.

  “Eric Miller.” Mr. Miller finally speaks up, reaching out his hand to Mark.

  “Mark Novak, you might know me as DJ Novak.” They shake hands.

  “No, sorry, never heard of you before.” Mr. Miller says calmly.

  Mark turns to me. “Your boyfriend?”

  “My boss.” I manage to find my voice.

  Mark evidently relaxes and smiles broadly.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I’m spinning at the SoFi Lounge tomorrow night… actually, I’d love it if you’d come.”

  Mark looks at Mr. Miller and adds, “Both of you… here are some V.I.P passes. I’ll give you some more, if you have more people with you.” Mark takes out four passes from the inner pocket of his blazer and hands them to me.

  “Thank you.” I mutter and manage a tight smile.

  Not going to happen.

  A waitress comes up to Mark, and informs him his table is ready.

  “It was great seeing you after all this time…” Mark’s eyes travel along my body. “I do hope you’ll come tomorrow. If you will, I’ll play your playlist… I still have it you know.” He winks at me.

  My eyes widen.

  My playlist? The one he used to play, while screwing my brains out? Is he kidding me?

  “If we don’t have any meetings, we’ll definitely be there.” Mr. Miller says, successfully stopping me from answering. My mouth shuts and I nod in agreement with a small smile.

  Didn’t think it was Mr. Miller’s thing, but I guess you never know.

  “Eric, it was nice meeting you man.”

  They nod to each other and Mark comes in to hug me. He crushes me into him and I lightly touch his back. He still smells divine.

  “Goodnight guys.” Mark flashes his signature panty-dropping smile, which stopped working on me a long time ago, then walks away to follow the waitress.

  Mr. Miller’s hand moves to the small of my back, urging me forward. His hand is radiating warmth, and that small contact makes every cell in my body jump to attention. I glace up at Mr. Miller as we leave the restaurant, finding his face harsh, clearly he’s not happy about something.

  When we reach the hotel, Mr. Miller finally speaks up.

  “Who’s Mark?” he asks cautiously.

  I exhale. I really don’t want to tell him, but I feel that if I won’t, it would just make him even more unhappy with me and might cost me my job, so I gather the willpower to tell him.

  “He’s my ex-boyfriend. We dated for a few months and it didn’t work out.” I hear myself explain for some reason. I watch Mr. Miller’s face intently, but its like his got this mask on, I can’t figure out what he’s thinking.

  “What’s… kissa?”

  Oh good God…

  “Umm… it used to be my nickname.”

  Mr. Miller lifts a questioning eyebrow and I sigh.

  “It means… kitten… in Russian.”

  “Oh…well, we don’t have to go tomorrow night.” Mr. Miller looks at me with a reassuring smile.

  “Oh no, it’s not a problem. You could go without me.” I say.

  He was so enthusiastic about it. I don’t want to ruin it for him. I’ll just find something else to do.

  Mr. Miller opens the door to our suite and waits for me to walk in.

  “If I’ll go I want you to accompany me. I want to make sure you’ll be all right, I don’t like the idea of you alone in the hotel room while I’m out partying.” He shrugs.

  I nod and that awkward and uncomfortable feeling is back. I need to relax. I decide not to even bother reminding him that he hasn’t answered my indecent proposal, because I am mortified to hear, ‘no’ and ‘you’re fired’.

  “I’m gonna go have a bath.” I say without looking at him and leave the room.

  I’m lying in the bathtub, surrounded by foam and bubbles. The scent of vanilla tickling my nose, I inhale then exhale deeply a few times. I close my eyes and lose myself in the sweet scent of Gardenia Rose candles that are lit and randomly positioned in the bathroom. I fix the small, soft white towel under my neck and press ‘Play’ on my iPhone. Bach’s Suite No.3 in D – Air, fills the room and I force my brain to block all the miserable moments of today, drifting into complete relaxation as the melody caresses me. After my soothing bath, I dress in my black lacey boyshorts and a matching camisole. I wrap my lavender silk robe, that stops at the middle of my thighs around my body and tie the matching sash, then head to the kitchen for a glass of water. When I enter the kitchen, I see Mr. Miller sitting on the couch in the living area. He’s busy typing on his laptop. He doesn’t seem to notice me, so I seize the moment and study his striking features.

  Mr. Miller’s changed into a white t-shirt and light wash jeans. His mesmerizing eyes are focused on the screen and he looks so diligent, so absorbed in his work, almost like he’s untouchable and I don’t want to disturb him. I just stand there admiring him from afar, allowing my hungry eyes to roam over Mr. Miller’s sculptured torso and his strong, lean legs. The way those sexy, stubborn strands fall onto his forehead, making me want to thread my fingers through his hair and tug at the roots with desire.

  A few long moments later of basically fantasizing about Mr. Miller and me in various activities that have us naked, sweaty and out of breathes, I decid
e to stop gawking at him and down my cold glass of water, hoping is will cool my heated blood. I shake my head to push those fantasies away and decide to wish him a good night.

  Get a grip woman!

  I stop at the entrance of the room and lean my shoulder against the wall, “Mr. Miller… I’m going to bed… good night.”

  Mr. Miller looks up at me, catching a quick breath. He opens his mouth to say something, but three loud knocks at the door stop him. Mr. Miller looks at the door then back at me, “I ordered some room service, could you please let them in?”

  “Umm… yes, of course.”

  I walk to the door, tightening the robe around my body. I open the door and step back, allowing the room service to enter, but my eyes focus on two ice blue irises that widen with shock and disbelief, which then shift into pure rage.

  What the hell?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Barbie-want-to-be is standing at the door, glaring at me, “What the fuck are you doing in Eric’s suite?!” she screeches.

  She’s looking me over from head to toe, then storms inside, pushing me out of her way with her shoulder bumping into mine.

  “Eric! What the hell is going – “

  “Shut. Up.” Mr. Miller growls. He’s already on his feet, glaring at her and she recoils back, stunned as though he’d hit her.

  “Katherine, this is Eliza Montgomery – “

  “His girlfriend.” Eliza interrupts him, her voice cold and possessive.

  I look at Mr. Miller who has turned into a human statue. This time it’s him who is frozen and immobilized. I feel seriously out of place. Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion crushes over me.

  This day is getting better by the minute…

  Not wanting to get into a catfight over a man who made it clear I don’t stand a chance to have while I work for him, I make the only decision I can. Tonight I’ll sleep here, tomorrow I’ll get a separate room and she can stay with him… and she probably will.