by Tasha Black
“I don’t think what she looks like should matter.”
“Well, it does matter,” he said. “This will make her the face of the division. Public perception and investor confidence are important.”
She couldn’t really argue with that.
“Then just tell her you don’t like the tails for high level meetings or with anyone outside the company.”
“Can she sue me?” West asked Gary.
“Could be seen as discriminatory,” he replied.
“Will she sue me?” he asked Cordelia.
She shook her head immediately.
“Then we’ll keep it off the books. Cordelia will talk to her.”
Cordelia nodded. Before any niceties could be said, they were moving again.
This time, he headed for the elevator. West pushed the button and they stepped inside.
West pressed 58, it looked like an ordinary button, but she knew the built-in biometric scanner would only work for someone on Mr. Worthington’s approved list. Once it was pushed, the elevator would always go directly to his floor. No stops. The doors closed, and they began their long ascent to his office.
In the small space of the elevator, they were finally still.
Cordelia was suddenly aware of West’s large and very masculine form beside her. She wasn’t looking directly at him, but parts of him were reflected in every shining surface of the elevator; no matter where she looked she saw images of his crisp white shirt, grey flannel slacks, dark hair and tan jaw. Even in the over-conditioned space, warmth seemed to emanate from him.
She was being silly again. She knew it.
She snuck a glance up at him.
He was staring back at her.
Suddenly, the elevator felt too small, too warm.
His eyes were so dark, so intense.
Cordelia was not an intense person. She waited for instinct to kick in, causing her to smile foolishly or blurt something out about the weather.
Instead, she held his gaze and felt her whole body go soft and ready for him to grab her, kiss her, pin her to the wall of the elevator.
Instead, the bell dinged discretely and they broke eye contact and hurried into his office.
What was happening to Cordelia? It must be the lack of sleep and the excitement over Med Pros.
West was already behind his desk and beckoning her to the chair next to his.
Warily, she sat beside him, trying not to notice the spicy scent of his aftershave. She kept her eyes down so as to avoid his and found herself looking at the bulge where his slacks pulled across his lap.
She quickly focused her eyes on the computer screen. There was a picture on his screensaver. He was at the beach with Peter. They were bare chested. Peter was handsome and West was brutally gorgeous.
In desperation, Cordelia shut her eyes.
“Something wrong?”
The timbre of his voice seemed to reverberate in her blood.
“No, Mr. Worthington. I’m just a little sleepy.”
“Not to worry, Cord, coffee is on its way.”
She opened her eyes and smiled.
“Nice not running for it, huh?” he asked.
“Why aren’t I running for it?” she asked in return.
“You have more important things to do. I need your brains.”
Her stomach did a flip.
“Wow,” she said. “Looks like two people are getting promotions today.”
Had she gone too far?
No. Thank god, he was smiling.
“Yes, you’re my right-hand man on a trial basis. In a week, we’ll talk salary and title.”
Wow.
Cordelia smiled widely before she could stop herself.
West’s eyes went dark again.
The elevator let out another subtle ding.
Edward Dalton stepped into the room.
“Coffee,” he said flatly.
Had he gone for coffee himself?
“Great,” West said.
Dalton’s unusual crystal blue eyes locked on Cordelia’s as he handed her the cup. He glanced at West, already sipping his, then back to her. His nostrils flared, like he was looking for a scent, then he relaxed and smiled at her.
“You need a new PA,” he said to West, “at least for this trial basis.”
How?
He couldn’t have possibly heard their conversation from the elevator. West must have told him about their new arrangement. That made sense. He was the head of security.
West turned to Cordelia.
“You don’t have a sister do you?”
Before she could answer, Dalton spun on his heel and marched away.
“Call the agency,” West called after him. “You pick this time.”
“Yes, sir,” Dalton said as he stepped back onto the elevator.
The doors closed, and they were alone again.
“Until he finds someone,” West said. “I still need you on my calendar.”
“What about party duty?” she asked.
“I’m on a party diet until we get this company inventoried and sold.”
Cordelia’s heart froze in her chest.
No. No, no, no.
But she couldn’t find the words to try and convince him. And she knew they weren’t going to get her anywhere if he wasn’t convinced by what he had learned today.
“I should look at your calendar now. I’m sure it’s a mess already.”
She scurried away before he could stop her. Once in the relative quiet of her office, she would pull herself together.
* * *
Cordelia’s office was small and cozy. It had just one window, but it revealed a spectacular view over Glacier City Park.
Cordelia swiveled her chair to face the window and wrapped her fingers around the paper coffee cup. Its warmth and the familiar view soothed her a bit.
On the green rectangle of park, far below, tiny figures seemed to waltz in dreamlike slowness. Cordelia could watch them out the window all her life but she would never see a tiny Jessica join in their dance.
She spun quickly back to her desk before the tears could come. At least she had a job. At least she had her Sundays.
West’s email inbox was riddled with requests for his time. Cordelia pulled up a spreadsheet and methodically laid out the requested appointments into types - high level meetings, family stuff, requests from charity groups, sales calls and other requests and demands. Then she color coded by the requestor’s stated availability. Then she prioritized. Then she pulled up West’s calendar.
Every morning, West worked out from 6:30 to 8am. Even when he was in one of his 24/7 work moods that was non-negotiable. His friend, Jason Garelli, owned an MMA organization and a chain of MMA gyms. The two of them did brutal martial arts training every morning with some expert or another. It was an ugly hobby in Cordelia’s opinion. West had attended more than one meeting with a freshly blackened eye. But she imagined that a little conflict must be something West craved, since most of his life was spent in pampered luxury.
Though he told Cordelia to book him beginning at 8am, she noticed that West’s day went better if she held the first meeting until after he had eaten breakfast by himself.
Therefore, the most important item of the day was always booked for 8:15 because many days it was the only one he bothered with.
By now she knew that West didn’t do anything he didn’t want to do.
She glanced at the spreadsheet of options. It was pretty diverse. That much was good.
She chose a regular monthly meeting with the head of HR for the next day at 8:15am. That way, if her talk with Mallory went poorly they would be ready.
By the time she had the first day booked, she was feeling more herself. She grabbed the coffee cup only to find it empty.
The next day’s big meeting would, of course, be the meeting with the military contractors.
Surprisingly, that secretary had asked if West could meet her boss at 10 AM or later. Weren’t these military types supposed to do more befo
re 6 AM or something?
Cordelia frowned and looked over her spreadsheet for low-stress meetings to fill in before 10AM. One of the foundation guys’ names caught her eye - why was that name familiar?
Her heart caught in her throat when she realized.
The man’s name was Wayne Jeffries. He was the nurse who was an honorary board member on the foundation for Alan’s Kids - their mission was to gain awareness and help for kids who had lost a limb.
The kids and their families were planning a surprise ceremony to thank West for agreeing to allow Med Pros to fit them with free high-tech prosthetics as part of the upcoming trial.
Wayne was super nice. Cordelia couldn’t help talking with him a bit about her sister when he made one of his regular calls to check in during the application process for the trial. He had agreed with Cordelia that Med Pros showed great promise for kids like her sister, Jessica.
How could she possibly tell him that West was selling off Med Pros to the military?
A terrible idea began to form in Cordelia’s mind.
She shook her head to clear it, but it insisted on taking root.
What if she scheduled the ceremony at 8:15am - right before the military meeting? Would West be able to see those amazing kids and then sell them out immediately afterward?
Experience told her that, yes, he would.
And then Cordelia would probably lose her job.
She considered.
Did she have plausible deniability here? West might not realize that she had known exactly what she was booking, especially since he’d kept her up working all night.
And hopefully she could find another job if she had to. Med Pros was Jessica’s only chance at a normal life, so Cordelia had to keep trying - even if it was a very nearly lost cause.
That was the whole point of her even having this crummy job in the first place.
With shaking hands, Cordelia typed W. Jeffries AKF into West’s 8:15am slot tomorrow morning.
11
“I’m out, man, I’m tapping!”
West let his breath out with a whoosh and released Jason from his hold. They were finishing their usual workout with half an hour of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.
Normally, by the time they got to this point West was feeling mellow. For some reason he was still full of energy today.
He was always oddly exhilarated by work, even when he wasn’t sleeping. But this was different. He suspected it had to do with Cordelia.
Her promise was more apparent with every passing hour. As Cordelia grew more confident about sharing her ideas West was continually astounded at her insight, in spite of her obvious lack of experience. Although he knew he ought to send her to Wharton and bring her back with a Masters, he was too greedy for that. He wanted to develop her himself. She was blossoming under his tutelage already.
Today he would show her how to negotiate with the government. He was sure she would pick up immediately and follow his lead without missing a beat. She was so attuned to him - so responsive to his moods and thoughts.
He pictured her gray-blue eyes flashing with excitement as they dissected each department of Med Pros.
It was hard not to imagine how responsive she might be in other areas.
Before he could stop himself, he pictured pinning her against the wall of the elevator as he had wanted to last night. Her soft body would accommodate his immediately. He imagined the surprise in her eyes as she looked up at him in that alluring way she had. But he knew she would adjust for him immediately - those luscious breasts heaving under her sweater, pink lips parted, waiting for his kiss.
No.
West was a strangely disciplined guy in certain areas. Work was one of them. He wasn’t going to ruin his discovery with sex.
He brought himself back to the present. Jason was rubbing his neck and eyeing West warily.
“Everything okay?” Jason asked. “Where’s Peter?”
Shit.
“We had a… falling out.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” West asked.
Jason put his hands up in surrender.
“You didn’t suddenly forget that you’re an asshole, did you?”
West laughed.
“He hasn’t been in touch with you?” West asked.
“No, man, I had no idea.”
Odd. West absently wondered who Peter would have gone to. He had Dalton on high alert to let him know if Peter asked for a reference from any of the department heads, but so far no calls. He’d assumed Peter must be shacking up with another friend, licking his wounds.
He shrugged at Jason and grabbed a towel.
“He’ll be back. See you tomorrow.”
“Yup. Krav Maga.”
* * *
West could smell the Earl Grey, and hear the fingers dancing on the keyboard, that told him Cordelia was already in her office.
He meant to walk right past and into his suite to take a shower. He really meant to.
Instead, he poked his head in the door.
She looked up instantly, almost like she had expected him.
“Mr. Worthington. Good morning.”
He liked the way she looked at him, with alert intensity. She looked like she was ready for anything.
“Follow me.”
She was out of her chair in an instant and in step behind him.
He walked into his office bedroom suite and began to strip his workout attire without pretense. He avoided looking back at her. West knew the power of his sculpted body. Most women would be in a puddle on the floor by now. He was dying to see her reaction. But that wasn’t what this was about.
Actually, he wasn’t sure what this was about. Was he testing his own limits? Testing hers?
Luckily, West Worthington could do whatever he pleased and didn’t have to explain himself to anyone.
He padded toward the bathroom before he noticed that her heels weren’t clicking along behind him anymore.
He turned.
She was still in the bedroom, looking toward the main office with her back to him.
That was disappointing.
“Come on,” he said.
She turned but kept her eyes down.
“I think you need some privacy, Mr. Worthington.”
“Peter followed me everywhere. You should be doing the same.”
“Why?”
“So you don’t miss anything,” he said. “So I can talk to you at anytime - run things by you. You never know where inspiration might strike.”
“If you really think anything genius is going to come to you while you shower then get yourself some tub crayons.”
“You will do your job or I will replace you. There are a hundred business school grads that would fight each other to stand where you are.”
She buttoned her lip and kept her eyes downcast.
Instead of exploding with rage, he discovered he was filled with an odd, stiff feeling.
“I’m sorry, Cord,” he heard himself say.
She looked up at him, finally. Her blue-gray eyes were wide.
Was he really such an ass that she was more shocked at his apology than by his naked body?
The air between them hummed.
He ignored it and spun on his heel to the shower.
This time he heard the satisfying click of her heels behind him.
12
Cordelia tried to hold it together.
Think of Mom, think of Jessica. Whatever you do, DON’T look at him.
She made it three whole steps before she let herself look at him.
His hair was so dark and wet with sweat that it was nearly black. His impossibly wide shoulders rippled with muscles and formed a triangle with his narrow waist. Below, his firm buttocks made her think of the time her English teacher forgot to cover the TV when Romeo got out of bed naked in the Zeffirelli Romeo & Juliet.
It was a revelation.
Cordelia felt her cheeks burning and quic
kly looked down at her feet as they hit the marble tiles with punishing strides.
Thankfully, he got in the shower quickly. At the hiss of the water she allowed herself to look up again. The glass doors were fogging but she could still see the shape of him.
Did he really make Peter go in when he showered?
Cordelia really didn’t think so, though of course she hadn’t exactly been looking out for it.
She had to keep it together and act professional. She’d managed to hold it together during the party. She could do this.
The shower cut off.
Cordelia stepped back as West emerged. Though she was dying to look, and desperate not to incur his displeasure, she managed to keep her eyes on her hands until he had wrapped a towel around his waist.
“So what’s this first appointment?” he asked.
Out of the frying pan…
“It’s one of the foundation guys. He’s very excited to have the chance to see you.”
“I’ll bet.”
He strode into the bedroom area and threw the towel on the bed. In moments, he was impeccably dressed and heading for the office.
Cordelia let her breath out slowly.
West grabbed a power shake out of the mini-fridge by his desk and downed it in a gulp.
“Let’s do it.”
13
West was pretty pissed at himself for making her follow him into the bathroom. Of course she’d been right - they hadn’t had any important conversation at all during his shower. And worse yet, he was hard as a rock the whole time. He was pretty sure she had been looking at her hands, but she could hardly have missed the towel tenting when he’d gotten out.
At least he could vent his frustrations on the dumb foundation guy. Those people were the worst - they drew good salaries and spent their time begging for money for the foundations that paid them so handsomely. Yet somehow they were painted as heroes when the guys like West who earned all the money and gave some away were supposed to be greedy businessmen.
He turned the corner into the large conference room.
“Surprise!!!”
Westley Worthington did not like surprises.
The voices were jubilant and the room was full. Little kids with old-fashioned prosthetics were all over the place, along with parents and that bastard Wayne Jeffries.
