by Alex Rosa
Speaking of, I realize I need to escape the wafting smell of her perfume. It’s as if her thick, floral scent are pheromones only to lure in an unsuspecting, horny man, which is probably more than half the population of New York City. My guess is she’s a man-eater if she was able to snag the attention of Paul Ferris and a job.
I scurry into Paul’s office, opening the double doors to see him looking out his large window at the foggy NYC morning, the tops of buildings nearly the only things visible.
“Morning, Paul. Coffee?”
Paul Ferris is a proud man, and he looks it: bout 5’8” and stout, still intimidating though. His thinning black hair makes no difference to his demeanor. His piercing black eyes demand respect, but overall he’s a reasonable man. However, I’d always prefer not to piss him off. His nice guy routine has a short circuit that I’ve been on the receiving end only a handful of times in the five years that I’ve worked for him.
Paul turns around, smiling. “Troy! How the hell are you this morning? And coffee? I’ll take it.”
I hand off his drink. “Great, for the most part. It’s been hectic, but I’m here.” I pause, glancing around the room, noticing it’s empty of another person. “And what about our meeting associate?”
Paul’s smile falters. “Julia? I’m not sure. She’s always been such a prompt girl. I don’t know where she is, but, you know, she’s in a new city. Maybe she’s just a bit lost.”
Excuses already? I already think she’s a spoiled brat running off her uncle’s reputation, and apparently promptness is the least of her concerns.
The door to Paul’s office swings open, and my jaw falls slack without my permission.
“Julia, my dear girl! What the hell happened?”
Absentmindedly, the brunette that walks in is in a flutter, shaking out her green shirt, “I’m so-so sorry, Uncle Paul. I was here early, I swear. I thought I’d get a coffee, but this jerk spilled an entire drink on me, and then rushed out the door without much of an apology!”
She finally peers up from her frantic task to lock her large, doe eyes with her uncle’s. Apologetic, sweet, and utterly frustrated.
Paul lifts the beverage I just handed him to the girl. I gulp down air, petrified to the spot. What are the fucking chances it’s the same girl?
“Julia, I’m so sorry! Here! Take this! Troy was nice enough to get me a coffee this morning. I’m sure he won’t mind if you have it.”
Something causes her body to flinch, and I have a good idea what it might’ve been as her head slowly turns my direction.
Her eyes, moments ago filled with endearing sweetness, harden as she locks onto me. I grin wide, hoping my trademark smile will fix this situation. I notice the left corner of her lips twitch and I don’t know what it means.
She could end me. I know it.
Julia turns back to Paul, eyes wide and bright once again. “Thank you, Uncle Paul, but unfortunately I’ve switched to tea.”
I open my mouth to say something, but no sound comes out. I’m too busy trying to get control over my involuntary smile. I know I should be more cautious, but was she almost funny just now? Why show me mercy?
“Whoever it was must be a total ass. I’m sure karma will take care of that one. I’ll be fine. It’s nearly dry now,” she adds.
I spoke too soon, but I guess I deserve the jab.
Paul, too distracted with his niece, gives me the opportunity to unleash my unfiltered grin. I shake my head to rid myself of my dumbstruck, but thoroughly intrigued expression, and make it a point to figure out with whom I’m dealing.
A lion or a mouse?
My eyes make the same trail they did earlier, reminding me of her delightful curves. I start with her black heels, and work my way up her silhouette, and reaffirm the fact she is definitely easy on the eyes. But when I finally make it to her face she’s already staring at me, catching my open gawk. Her evident pout, although cute, tells me she’s not amused.
Lion, then. Got it.
I want to stutter an excuse, as if to explain that I was actually sizing her up for what kind of professional battle she could hold, and that her dainty hips don’t stand a chance —only because her wry glare is nothing but an open challenge.
“Troy, is it?”
With Paul’s heavy stare now on me from across the room, I have to get a grip.
“Troy. Troy Dillinger. Nice to meet you. Welcome to the team,” I force through the smirk I can’t control. Might as well play the part for now.
She extends her hand out for a shake, and I’m only too eager to meet the gesture. Her grip is firm, and demanding, complementing my own dominant grasp. It’s the type of experienced touch that you’d get from a colleague and I’m tempted to respect its confidence.
“Thank you. I know it must be hard for you to take another person on, considering you’ve been running solo for so long.”
I halt our shaking, freezing mid-air before pulling away. My friendly smile vanishes. That definitely felt like another verbal jab, and it stung like it too.
“When I said ‘team’ before I meant to the company. I’m sorry if I confused you.”
This time Julia’s face slithers into a knowing, devilish grin, and I want to like her, but I know I can’t.
Paul interrupts, “Troy, I think formal introductions are in order. It’s half the reason for Julia being here. She’ll be partnering up with you as we tackle the bigger market deals that we have coming up as the company grows. I noticed you shouldering a lot of the weight lately, and I think a fresh outlook is a good thing. Plus, she’s an excellent interior designer. We'll no longer have to contract out. The two of you, with your business and architecture background, will complement each other nicely. Don’t you think?”
I clench my jaw, thinking I haven’t even taken a seat and I’ve already been bombarded with so much. I nod my agreement, but I can’t help myself. “Of course, Paul.” I turn to Julia, who has yet to actually introduce herself. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see your portfolio of past projects.” I shrug. “You know, just to see where you’re at.”
I’ve annoyed Paul. His feathers are surely ruffled as he grunts his dismay, and I know he’s about to excuse my behavior, but this woman is full of surprises as she raises her hand to halt his words before she replies, “It’s okay, Uncle. I’d be more than happy to show Troy who he’s up against —Excuse me. I mean, who he’ll have the pleasure to work with.”
Shocking us both, Paul erupts into a full belt of laughter, like a jubilant Santa Clause who’s been a chain smoker since the age of twelve. “I think I like my new team already. Feisty, isn’t she?”
I’m the only one in the room not smiling.
I hold my breath as I watch Troy Dillinger stand his ground with what seems like a well-rehearsed grin. And I get it. It’s the ground he very much worked hard to defend. Who am I in comparison?
If New York City has taught me anything up to this point it’s that you always have to put up a fight, or the world will walk all over you.
I didn’t think it was in my best interest to throw my first day of work away with calling Troy out on his un-gentlemanly like behavior, but it might’ve been all for nothing anyway.
When I heard his name, I knew it had to be the same Troy the blonde had mentioned, but nothing prepared me for that shit-eating grin that accompanied his heavy eyes. I don’t care that their blue color is so striking that it makes his staring overly intense, and possibly make my knees shake a bit. I won’t be pushed around. Not when it comes to work.
There’s one thing that I want this move to NYC to hold for me, and that’s to prove myself. I’ve spent far too long living my life for other people. I can’t have this guy assume I’d let him down easy.
My dad would’ve been proud of my confidence, but with every one of my antagonistic words came a dry mouth full of doubt. I was basing everything off instinct —something I don’t rely on too often, but in this city, it�
��s seems to be all I’ve got.
“Julia, my dear, how about we do lunch? Catch up on all things business and home life. I’d like to find out how my brother’s doing.” Paul turns to Troy, who still won’t stop staring at me. “Troy, you must be there, too!”
I tear my eyes away from the intimidating stark color of Troy Dillinger’s. Paul’s boisterous tone has me wanting to smile, but my lips refuse to give in fully. “That would be lovely, Uncle Paul.”
Troy cuts in as he turns to face him. “Of course, Paul. I wouldn’t miss it. We have lots to discuss and plan for.”
“I heard the Dante family are going to be in town soon. I’d like to discuss them as our next client. Lunch will do us good to brainstorm together as a team for the first time.”
I wish I shared your enthusiasm, Uncle.
Paul speaks a final time adding, “Oh, I forgot to mention that we’ll be shifting Claire to work for both of you. It’ll help streamline productivity, and ensure that no confusion is had.” As if reading my bemused expression, Paul turns to me. “Claire is Troy’s assistant, but now she is both of yours. We’ll be moving her desk between your offices.”
If I’m not mistaken, Troy and I might have quietly grumbled at the same time.
I don’t know what to make of anything, but nod my acceptance. What choice do I have?
Troy turns back to me with an odd skip to his step, eyes blazing. “Before lunch, do you mind a brief meeting? You can show me your work then. It’ll help me see where we’re at from a project development standpoint before discussing future assignments.”
His words ooze bullshit, but I’m game.
“Absolutely.”
I level my stare with his, trying to keep up, but when he flashes me a grin while running his hand nonchalantly through his raven hair, I have to look away.
Troy Dillinger is intense, but I can’t tell if it’s all for show. I just wish the iceberg color to his eyes didn’t make me feel like the ocean itself is swallowing me whole, and that I better go find a life raft.
Julia slinks into my office with a secret sort of smile on her pink lips, and I wonder how long it’ll be until we address the fact I spilled nearly an entire latte on her less than an hour ago.
With her oversized portfolio clasped in one hand, she takes a seat on the leather chair directly in front of my desk and glances around the room before locking her pretty eyes with mine.
An unexpected dry gulp occurs before I speak, but I square my shoulders to show that two can play this game. “Glad to see you have your portfolio on hand.” I extend my hand over my contemporary, dark wood desk, and she’s only too eager to lean forward to hand it over.
When she does, the top of her blouse falls open, giving me the slightest glimpse of her cleavage, and I steal a glance. I attempt to exhale my nerves, and try to get ahold of my manners, but it’s proving difficult.
She offers me a tight smile as she sits back down, and thinking she’ll give me a moment of silence, she instead cuts right through the obvious tension.
“Troy, isn’t it?”
I open the thick leather cover, noting that inside is filled with more pages than I expected.
I’m thankful for something else to focus on, because her long legs peeking out of her skirt are far more distracting than I’d like to admit. It’s frustrating. My primal reaction to this woman is absurdly hard to fight.
I keep my eyes glued to the binder. My dick will not win today.
“Uh-hm.”
I flip to the first page, and I’m already stunned by the interior sketch, complemented with an actual photo of the inside of a nightclub. The hues of purples and grays are dramatic, and appealing to the eye, offering the room an immediate sex appeal with dark corners to hide in. Well, I’ll be damned.
“Do you get coffee every morning?”
My eyes fly off the page to her, and her tweaked brow is goading to be sure, but the curve to her lip offers a funny contrast.
I click my tongue, wondering where this is going. “Actually, no I don’t. On occasion, sure, but generally I try to stay away from the stuff.” I pause, examining the sleek shine to her dark hair that curves around her face, wondering if it’s worth it to go on. “Why do you ask?”
“I just wanted to make sure we don’t run into each other in the mornings.”
I release a laugh, swallowing it back just as quickly, trying to fight the seemingly constant want to like her. “You’re new in town, right? California, I heard.”
Her face empties of emotion at the mention of her home state.
“Yes.”
“How’s New York treating you so far?”
A tiny vee forms between her brows. “Ask me tomorrow.”
“That bad, eh?”
The tight smirk she gifts me is anything but sincere, and a part of me feels bad about the coffee. I shake my head, reminding myself that she’s the enemy, and turn back to her portfolio.
I should focus on the real issue at hand. I need to know what I’m up against. This time I hurry my glances, not wanting her to realize that each sketch or photo is impressive, but I take mental notes of her skills.
I transition back into asshole mode. “These are … good.”
“Good?” she perks up with feigned annoyance. She knows how good she is, which makes us more alike than I thought.
“Yeah. Just good.”
She huffs quietly, getting impatient as I continuously and haphazardly flip through the booklet.
“Is it my understanding that this company is moving forward with branching out on a more commercial level into restaurants and night life within the Lower East Side and the Meatpacking District?”
Her tone is matter-of-fact, and I hate it. Obviously she’s been talking to Paul, and he must’ve spilled his plan to turn this company into a mecca for up-and-coming investors looking to make their mark in New York City’s night life, where I admit there is a lot of money to be made. “Yes, that sounds about right.”
She purses her lips, and offers a sympathetic nod while bringing her seemingly delicate hand upward to point at one of the photos on my wall. “Am I also to understand that your experience falls mainly into the category of urban residential real estate, and the occasional hotel?”
I clench my jaw, realizing she’s been taking notes of her surroundings this entire time. She’s nailed my resume in one patronizing question.
“Yes.” My tone is brusque, and the fact that her tanned, toned leg distracts my eye as it neatly crosses itself over her other one, flusters the fuck out of me. I try to ignore it as I adjust myself. “What are you getting at?”
She smiles fully for the first time, and my heartbeat accelerates as her plump lips curve around pearly white teeth I can only imagine that her laughter must be girly, sweet, and bubbly to match her gratifying expression.
“Oh, nothing. I’m just trying to gauge how much you need me.”
I attempt to hold back my stark expression, but my eyes go wide regardless.
In my entire career, and maybe in my life, never have I known a person, let alone a woman, intrigue me and frustrate me so damn much.
As if satisfied by my reaction, she stands, smoothing out her skirt before reaching over my desk, extending her hand out. At first I’m on the defensive. Her smile says it all: this wretched Californian beauty is not to be trifled with, but I can’t help but want to play. The challenge pulls me in like a winding reel.
I stand, reaching for her hand, finding a weird eagerness to touch her again among the antagonistic awkwardness, but the skin-to-skin contact sends a warning spark up my arm, throwing me mentally off balance. I let go, trying to get ahold of myself. I reach for her portfolio, fumbling with handing it off to her.
She manages to pull the binder from my grasp before it falls between us as she adds, “Seeing as we’ll be sharing assistants, projects and so forth, please keep me in the loop with any potential leads. We can help each other, y
ou know?”
Her last handful of words sound like she’s extending the olive branch, but all I can think about is trying to keep my cool.
I run my hand through my hair, and pull in a deep breath. It turns out to be a terrible decision seeing as her perfume wafts into my nose and the smell of jasmine and soap has my body buzzing with the want to get a better whiff. Now I know I’m losing it.
“Of course.”
She nods a somewhat reluctant understanding, and her large eyes soften, possibly hinting at something I never saw before: fear?
Whoa.
In that moment it becomes obvious she’s just a girl in a big city. However, that doesn’t mean I won’t go down kicking and screaming. That’s just the way it is. I don’t make the rules. This job is more important. It has to be.
With that I watch her swivel around and I take in her delectable derrière, and curse myself as I do it.
I practically run out of Troy’s office once I clear the doorway into the impersonal office space that’s now my own. I toss my stupid portfolio onto my design table knowing I had prepared the damn thing for a moment just like the one that happened between Troy and me.
It was a moment of truth.
However, all I found was my blood boiling, and body buzzing, neither of which I was expecting.
Just like the instincts from before, baring my proverbial teeth in what felt like an episode on Animal Planet in Paul’s office minutes earlier, then to transition into the animal attraction that Troy Dillinger emanates is ridiculous, and I refuse to be at his hormonal whim. It makes me feel toyed with.
Not to mention the worst fact of them all: I’m attracted to him just as much as I’m impressed by him. I should’ve realized which Troy bumped into me in the coffee shop. I’m an idiot. I researched his resume before coming to New York after discussing the job with my uncle, and Troy’s list of high-end clients is intense. To think, I was hoping for a mentor when I got here, not a rival. But I can see why he’s on the defensive, even if it isn’t fair. It’s his turf, and I’m the newbie. Whatever.
