An Instant Connection: Insta-Spark #3

by Moreland, Melanie

  I shook my head and watched him hail a taxi and get inside. He looked over his shoulder at me, his face serious, gaze penetrating. “You’re right. Nothing has changed. I’m still crazy about you. I’ll make it up, Mandy. I swear.”

  With those words, he disappeared.

  * * *

  I was on edge for the week, but nothing happened. Other PA’s talked about the latest hire, but I ignored them. I heard the whispers of the hot, new consultant, and a company-wide email went out introducing Mackenzie Mitchell and his impressive resume. I stared at his picture, secretly saving it on my phone before deleting the email. It was a professional headshot, and he looked every inch the serious businessman, but the slight tilt to his lips showed his mischievous nature if you knew what to look for.

  I was careful about where I went, and by the end of the week, I was convinced I could do it. Avoid Mitch and pretend the weekend never happened, and I wasn’t longing to see him. The only problem was that he didn’t seem to be trying as hard. Every day he sent a text.

  I heard it was you who set up my office. It’s perfect. Thank you.

  Have a great day.

  Hope you are okay.

  It’s raining. I hope you brought your umbrella.

  I ignored them and never replied. But my day didn’t feel complete until one arrived. Friday I was disappointed when one never came. I was sitting on my sofa that evening, sipping a glass of wine when my phone buzzed.

  You looked pretty today.

  I stared at the screen and another message popped up.

  I miss you.

  I responded.

  Please stop.

  A minute went by, then two. Finally a message appeared.

  Never.

  I shook my head, trying not to grin. So Mitch—persistent to the end.

  Saturday and Sunday, his texts were more frequent—and personal.

  My bed isn’t as comfortable without you in it.

  My pillow smells like you.

  I wish you were here.

  Remember when this time last week you liked me? Can we go back to then, please?

  Coffee?

  Accidental run in at the market?

  Meet me at the bus stop and we’ll ride around for a few hours until you’re not mad anymore?

  Finally, Sunday night, one last one came.

  Please forgive me. Give me that at least. Tell me you miss me—even a little.

  I stared at the screen for a long time, then with a heavy sigh, typed a reply.

  Yes.

  His response was instant.

  Thank you.

  A while later…

  My plan worked. You’re talking to me again. Now, I’ll move on to step 2, and yes, it’s a 3 step plan.

  My lips quirked, but I shut off my phone. Forgiving him was one thing, letting him get back under my skin—and into my life—another.

  And neither was happening.

  Chapter Five

  Mandy

  “Amanda.”

  I glanced up from the plans I was sorting and filing, forcing a smile to my face. “Hello, Michelle.”

  “Come with me.”

  I followed her, worry making me nervous. In her office, she sat, pursing her lips as she studied me. “I have a new assignment for you. Something different.”

  I relaxed. She hadn’t found out. A new assignment I could handle.

  Her next words blew that theory out of the water.

  “You are going to be assisting Mr. Mack…I mean Mr. Mitchell.” She allowed herself a smile. “I don’t know how I mixed up his name, but I keep referring to him incorrectly. Nevertheless, he requires some help with his scheduling and office. He has agreed to your being assigned to him.”

  A slow burn started in my chest. I bet he did.

  “Why me?” I asked through tight lips. What had he done?

  “One of the partners suggested you. Ben Wilson told him you were invaluable last month when his PA was off ill.”

  “Oh.”

  She tilted her head. “Are you not interested? It comes with a pay increase and added benefits.” She named a figure.

  I had to weigh my options quickly. More money meant I could leave there sooner. Go to teacher’s college. I could apply right away. If I said no, it would raise suspicion. She was already looking at me as if sensing something was off. I should be jumping at the chance, not hesitating.

  But could I work with Mitch? Knowing I was going to see him, talk to him, have to face him every day? Was that part of his plan?

  Michelle’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is there a problem, Amanda?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Just an unexpected opportunity. Of course I’ll help Mitch.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Mr. Mitchell.”

  “Oh, of-of course. Slip of the tongue.”

  She stood. “Don’t let him catch you calling him by his first name. He is very particular about that. It’s Mitchell if he allows you to be personal - not Mackenzie. Odd I know, but that is what he prefers.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  * * *

  Michelle knocked on Mitch’s partially open door and walked in, with me trailing behind her.

  “Mitchell, this is Amanda Clifford, your new PA.”

  He stood, rounding the desk. He held out his hand. “Amanda. What a pleasure to meet you.” He folded his hand over mine, his grip too tight and too long to be professional. “May I call you Mandy?”

  I glared at him, tugging back my hand. “I prefer Amanda.”

  He tilted his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Funny, you look like a Mandy to me.”

  “You look like a Mac. But I understand you prefer Mitchell.”

  Michelle sucked in a horrified breath, but he threw back his head in laughter.

  “I prefer Mitch to be honest, so here’s the deal. Mandy and Mitch.” He winked. “What a team we’re going to be.”

  Michelle huffed and glared at me. I wanted to curse Mitch out. Her Spidey senses were tingling, and it had only been five minutes. He had just made my life harder.

  “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, Mitchell”—she emphasized his name—"let me know.”

  He leaned against his desk, crossing his ankles. “I think Mandy is going to take good care of me, Minnie. It’s all good.”

  “Michelle. My name is Michelle.”

  He waved his hand. “Right. Got it. You can leave now. Shut the door behind you, please.”

  She stormed out, and for the first time in over a week, Mitch and I were alone with only a few feet separating us. We stared at each other. He looked tired, the sparkle I’d been drawn to missing from his eyes. I tried not to let it bother me.

  “I don’t know what your plan is, but we need some ground rules.”

  “I have no plan. I required a PA, your name came up and I agreed. I knew there was a pay increase, which would help you so I was certain you would accept. End of story.”

  “I call BS on that.”

  Mitch’s eyebrows shot up and his grin was huge. His dimples stood out, and for a moment, I caught my breath at how handsome he looked. At the way he was looking at me. I shook my head.

  “I’m your PA. I will assist you with your needs—your professional needs,” I clarified when he grinned again. “I work for you now, so the rules of my contract must be adhered to.” I paused and added quietly, “I need this job, Mitch. Don’t screw this up for me.”

  He stood, pulling on his shirtsleeves. “I won’t. I can be professional during business hours. You’ll find I’m a good boss. I’m fair, courteous, respectful, and pretty laid back, despite what Monica thinks.”

  My lips twitched. “Michelle.”

  He shrugged. “She couldn’t get my name right, why should I bother with hers? Might have saved me some trouble if she had.”

  “Are you seriously blaming her for what happened?”

  He sighed. “No. But I don’t like her. I don’t like how she treats people. How she treats y
ou.”

  “You only know that because I told you about her when I thought you were just Mitch.”

  He stepped closer, laying his hand on my arm. “I am Mitch. I always have been. And you’re going to remember that over the next while, and we’re going to move on from this.”

  His eyes were warm and filled with emotion. His light touch filled me with longing. I could smell his cologne. Feel his heat. Hear his desire. Feel mine begin to build.

  I stepped back, breaking the spell and his hold over me.

  “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

  * * *

  For the next two weeks, Mitch proved he was a great boss. He was talented and demanding, but polite. He liked his coffee hot. Very hot. I learned once it cooled, to replace it promptly. And that he drank far too much of it. He, in turn, remembered my offhand remark about sneaking toffee, and the first day, a pretty glass dish appeared on my desk, filled with various flavors of the sweet treat. He made a big show of perching on my desk when Michelle was there and eating the candy steadily while listening to her lecture.

  “I don’t allow snacks at my PA’s desks,” she informed him.

  He nodded and nonchalantly unwrapped another piece of the sticky confection. “Good thing Mandy is my PA then, isn’t it, Marion?”

  She stormed out. He stood, winked, and handed me a toffee.

  “Carry on.”

  Watching him design anything was magical. Listening to him discussing concepts and the engineering aspect of projects was sexy. He used his gorgeous hands a lot when he spoke, at times drawing in the air. I loved watching him. I had a difficult time hiding my admiration, and trying not to think of the way his hands felt on my skin.

  For the first time since starting at the company, I could honestly say I enjoyed my job. He did that for me. I was challenged, busy, and appreciated. He never failed to say thank you. His smile when I would slide a fresh coffee by his elbow warmed my chest. His praise when I would assist him was heartfelt, and I found myself going above and beyond for him.

  His texts still came every night. Usually, one line, but somehow he managed to express so much in them.

  I love working with you.

  You were amazing today. Thank you.

  I love that shade of green on you. Wear it more often, okay?

  I hated watching you leave today. Monday seems too far away.

  I miss you, Mandy. Tell me you want to figure this out. Please, sweetheart.

  Memories of our time played through my mind. His words, his humor, the way he touched me—the explosive passion we had together. If I were being honest, I hated leaving him too. But there was so much at stake. I needed my job. I had to decide if I could trust him again.

  I didn’t reply to his message.

  Mitch looked tired all week, and on Thursday, he was hit with a deadline and a design change he hadn’t expected. He worked all day, barely leaving his desk. Around seven, I went into his office and slid a coffee by his elbow. He glanced up, startled.

  “I thought you had left.”

  “No. I wanted to stay and see if I could help.”

  He picked up the coffee and sipped. “This helps.”

  “Good. I got some sandwiches.”

  He captured my hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.” He looked toward the sofa. “Eat with me? I need the distraction.”

  “Okay.”

  He devoured the simple meal I brought him while I nibbled. He sat back, draining the soda, and wiping his mouth.

  “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  My soda froze part way to my mouth. He shut his eyes with a sigh.

  “Sorry. Thanks, Mandy.”

  I focused my eyes on the floor. It had felt so good to hear him call me sweetheart.

  “It’s fine,” I mumbled.

  “It’s how I think of you all the time. My Mandy. My sweetheart.”

  I glanced up, my fingers playing with the edge of my skirt. “You think of me?”

  “Every damn minute of every damn day—and night.”

  Our gazes locked. He leaned closer. “You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep.” He snorted. “If I sleep.”

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” I whispered. I knew why I was having trouble finding rest.

  “Because all I can think about is if I had been honest from the get-go and confessed who I was and that I would be working here, we could have figured this out together. The instant chemistry between us was too hot to have been denied and I knew we would have come up with something. Instead, I tried to buy myself some time. Stupid move on my part.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I never thought how it might affect you, job-wise. I’m sorry for that. For all of it, actually.”

  He stood with a defeated smile. “At least I get to see you every day. Talk to you.” He lifted his shoulder. “Hear you laugh. I love your laugh. It helps me get through the day.”

  He gazed down at me. “Maybe one day you can forgive me. Maybe one day this place won’t stand between us. That is my greatest hope.”

  His sincerity was real. His expression honest and sad. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  “I miss you too. Promise me you will never lie to me again.”

  “Never.”

  “I forgive you.”

  He was on me in a second, his body pressing me into the cushions of the sofa, his mouth hungry and demanding. His arms were like vises around my body, holding me tight. He devoured me. Surrounded by his body, his taste and scent soaking into me, I finally felt right again.

  He was right.

  We were right.

  And I was tired of denying it.

  He dragged his lips across my cheek. “Sweetheart, I need to take you home.”

  “You have work to do and a deadline.”

  “The only thing I want to work on is getting inside you,” he protested.

  “You have a building to create.”

  “I’ve got something else erected instead,” he insisted with a grin, flexing his hips and grinding into me.

  I moaned low in my throat. “Mitch, please. We can’t. Not here.”

  Before he could speak, a cold voice startled us.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy? I knew something was going on.”

  Michelle stood in the doorway, her arms crossed.

  * * *

  I stared at the wall, gripping the hot cup of tea Mitch had given me. I shivered a little, pulling the blanket Mitch had draped around my shoulders tighter. I could hear his voice in the other room, talking on the phone with his lawyer.

  When Michelle discovered us, Mitch had stood, angry and indignant.

  “Does a closed door mean anything to you?”

  She shook her head. “Stop deflecting.” She glared at me. “You’re in breach of contract. You’re fired.”

  Mitch laid a hand on my shoulder. “You fire her, I’ll walk.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Take it up with management.”

  He met her gaze steadily. “Trust me, I will. Now, get out of my office.”

  After she flounced out, he picked up his phone and jacket. “Get your things. We’re leaving.”

  “Your deadline…” I protested.

  He leaned over me. “Fuck that. Fuck everything but fixing this for you. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

  “For kissing me?”

  He stroked my cheek. “Never. But I should have waited until we were out of the office. I messed up, but I promise I will fix it.”

  His tone was serious, his expression sincere.

  “Okay.”

  “You trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  He kissed me. “That’s all I need to know. Now, let me get you out of here.”

  He strode in the room, tossing down the phone and kissing me.

  “Good news or bad?” he asked.

  “Bad first.”

  “You’re fired.”

  “Hardly a surprise. What’s the good
news?”

  “I got you a new job. A much better one.”

  “Oh?”

  He grinned and sat beside me, rubbing my legs. “Several years ago, my lawyer added a clause in my contract I’ve never used and had forgotten about.”

  “Which is?”

  “It’s long and technical, but basically, if I don’t like the PA the company provides for me, I can hire my own.” He smirked. “You take orders from me now, not that cow Michelle. You are my direct employee.” He winked. “And unlike Parson’s—I highly encourage fraternization.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “What? But what if they don’t agree to your choice?”

  He shrugged, confident. “They will. I told them it was that, or I was gone. I have a thirty-day departure clause in my contract and I will use it.”

  “But, your career—your reputation,” I protested. “You signed a lease for this place—you just moved here for this job!”

  He tilted his head with a frown. “This place, my job, is nothing compared to how this affects you. Us. That’s the important thing here, Mandy.” He brushed a piece of hair off my cheek. “I’m putting you first. Us first.”

  I gripped his wrist. “But—”

  He shook his head. “No buts. You. First.”

  “Why?” I asked, my throat tight.

  “It’s a job. I’ll get another one if it comes down to that. And I don’t give a flying fuck about my reputation. Frankly, I’m sought-after enough that I don’t care. What I do care about is making sure you’re okay, and that we can be together.” He kissed me. “All of that is noise, Mandy. What I feel for you, what I think is happening between us—that’s what’s real. What is important.”