Page 1 of Room One Hundred & Twenty-One: Kiss of Fire

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SELENA

“Here are your reports, Mr. Kincaid.” I set the stack of papers on my boss’s desk. Without looking up from his computer screen, he nods and dismisses me, barely acknowledging my presence.

After two months of dealing with his cavalier behavior, I’ve grown accustomed to his curtness. When I first started as his assistant, I believed his coldness was reserved only for me, but now I realize that Noah Kincaid is just an asshole.

And yet, no one seems to mind. Or maybe they’re just used to it?

I guess when you’re a gorgeous CEO with that much money, being cold toward others is expected. Maybe that’s par for the course when it comes to hot, billionaire bosses. Unfortunately for me, I have not one, butthreeof them. And they’re pains in my ass.

On the outside looking in, you’d think I won the lottery by being able to work for sexy, wealthy men. But honestly, every day feels like a test of my restraint. Coming into the office and having to sit for eight hours without throwing myself at themstresses me out to the point I’m on a first name basis with my vibrator.

“Sir.” I turn on my heel and walk toward the door.

As soon as I exit, I’m greeted by silence, giving the false impression that I work in a library versus an impressive office suite on the top floor of Mosaic Inc. It’s just us up here where they have their own gym, pool, kitchen, and conference room.

In the center of it all sits my desk as well as that of Ms. Abernathy, their executive assistant. She’s a strict woman who seems to dislike everyone, but I’m determined to win her over. She used to take care of everything for them, but as the work continued to pile up, they felt she needed an extra set of hands. That doesn’t seem to be the case to me with how efficiently she juggles all her duties and rarely makes any mistakes. But who am I to argue when it means work for me?

I approach my desk, sit down in my seat, and check today’s calendar. As their personal assistant, it’s my job to make their lives easier, which means I no longer have a life of my own. But I’m willing to make the sacrifice if they keep paying me as well as they have been. That money goes a long way toward covering my bills and my mom’s too.

Settling in to work, I notice a new event has been added to the calendar and it’s three days away. It’s a business dinner for Chance, our COO, so I know he’ll want to take his client someplace elegant and exclusive. I bite back a curse, wondering how I’ll secure a reservation with just a few days’ notice. Putting my head down, I get to work and quickly produce a short list of fine-dining options.

“I see you’re as busy as ever, Selena,” a deep voice rumbles from behind me, and I turn to find Chance watching me from his door. He greets me with that easygoing smile he always wears, the one where you can’t help but smile back at him, even though I really want to throw this stapler at his head right now.

“That’s what happens when your bosses have full calendars.” I shrug before muttering under my breath, “And add impromptu events you didn’t know about.”

“A full calendar keeps the money coming in.” He laughs, the remnants of it bouncing off the walls and running through my body.

Chance checks his phone and I take a moment to truly admire his appearance. His forest-green suit looks damn good against his rich-brown skin. With sharp cheekbones and full lips, he’s captivating in the sense that you want nothing more than to be around him. I’ve lost count of how many times women have approached him under the guise of needing help with something, usually a task they do on their own. But as soon as they get near him, they lose their minds and practically throw their panties at him. I can’t blame them though. The man is sexy to a fault.

His hypnotic amber gaze drifts back to me, and I feel my cheeks heat from his attention. If I didn’t say it before, I’ll say it now—Chance Harrison is a god.

“Have you found a place for my meeting with Richard?” he asks, and like a flipped switch, I slip back into my professional persona versus horny single gal who hasn’t gotten laid in months.

“I found some great restaurants for you and Mr. Sampson, but these two are my top picks.” I type in the names on the computer and tilt my screen in Chance’s direction. He leans forward for a better view with one hand resting on the back of my chair and the other flat on my desk, closing me in. He invades my space and I feel my body start to buzz from his magnetic presence.

Get a hold of yourself, girl.He’s your boss.

“This one.” He points to my first choice. “I’ve been there a few times and always enjoy the chef’s selections.” His mintybreath slightly rustles a few strands of my hair. “Reserve us a private room.”

A shiver runs down my spine from his proximity.

He’s chosen one of the most expensive sushi places in town. It’s sophisticated and chic, somewhere I could never afford with my salary. But a girl can dream about snagging a coveted reservation for a nine-hundred-dollar Michelin-starred sushiexperience. Apparently, it’s so expensive they don’t even call it dinner. Let’s just hope my boss’s name has enough pull to get him and his client in this week. I’ll beg if I have to, whatever it takes to not disappoint him.

“Right away, sir,“ I confirm, already picking up the phone to make the call. When I glance up at Chance, I find his eyes still lingering on me, and his gaze darkens with something I can’t quite place. Then abruptly, with one last look, he stalks off towards Noah’s office, no longer interested in me or his upcoming dinner.

Ignoring the ache I feel from his absence, I punch in the number to the restaurant and make the reservation. It took a lot of convincing and more than a little pleading, but I got it done. Last-minute reservations are always tricky; yet there hasn’t been a problem at this job that I couldn’t solve.

Soft vibrations rattle against my desk, stealing my attention. I glance down at my phone to see the name on the screen before grabbing my cell and walking to the bathroom for a bit of privacy.

“Hi, Mom. Are you okay?”

“Does something have to be wrong for me to speak to my daughter?”

I can practically hear her eyes roll.

“Of course not, but I’m at work.” I sigh. This is a constant argument I have with her. Is it hard not being able to see her? Absolutely, but I need this job to stay afloat. This is the firstposition that’s made me feel financially secure, which is hard to come by these days.

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