Page 2 of Big Built Boss

“Alex?” a female voice I don’t recognize says.

It’s enough to pull me away from my reading. Standing in front of me is a gorgeous woman with sun-kissed skin and big brown eyes. Her brown hair is pulled half-up, showing off her feminine cheekbones and plump pink lips.

“Yep,” I say, snapping out of my stupor. “That’s me.”

“Hi, I’m Olivia,” she greets, stating what I’ve already assumed. “Josh told me to go ahead and come back here, but if I’m interrupting something, I can wait a few minutes. I am early, after all.”

“No, you’re fine,” I assure her, setting her file on the desk in front of me. “I was actually just looking over your resume. Take a seat.”

She smiles and walks into the room with an air of confidence that I can’t help but admire. I can understand how she was the president of her sorority. As she settles into the chair across from me, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat and reminding myself that I need to keep this professional. We’re at the gym I own, and I’m poised to be her boss if all goes well. I can’t be checking her out or doing anything to make her uncomfortable. “I’ve looked over Josh’s notes from your initial interview, and everything looks good there.”

“That’s good to hear.” Her voice is melodic and warm. “Although, I kind of assumed that considering I’m meeting with you.”

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth lifts. She’s funny, and rather than coming off as cocky, her statement is charming. The woman only said a few sentences to me, and I’m already enamored.

“I notice that you’re a bit of a gym rat yourself,” I begin, leaning back in my chair and resting my palms on the curves of the armrest. “Tell me about the gym you worked out at before you came to Cherrywood Village.”

“It was nothing special,” Olivia says, pursing her lips as she considers how to answer. “Most of the gyms out in LA are…lavish? Focused on aesthetics? I kind of hated that, so I found one that wasn’t much bigger than this to do my morning cardio.”

“Did they offer yoga?” I say, remembering that line in Josh’s notes.

“No, I did that on campus at the gym there,” she replies easily, crossing her legs as she relaxes into her seat. “It was included with tuition, so I figured I’d take advantage of it.”

“So you’re probably much stronger than you look,” I say with a smirk, noting the slight blush starting to color her pretty little cheeks.

“I wouldn’t know,” she says, still holding my gaze despite the fact that she’s clearly flustered. “I don’t really do weight training.”

“Well, you’ll be free to use the gym whenever you’re not on the clock,” I say, admiring the way she’s so unshakable.

“Are you offering me the job?” Olivia asks, her smile getting even wider.

Truthfully, I’ve never done an interview this fast. But, I don’t even have to ask her any questions to know that I want to bring her onto the staff. And that’s as much because of her credentials as it is the fact that I need to see more of her. Call me crazy. Call it what you want, but I can feel it in my chest that this woman is going to undo me.

“That I am,” I say. “That is, if you want it.”

“If I didn’t want it, why would I have applied?” she counters.

“Okay, fair enough,” I chuckle. “We’ll get your paperwork filed out on your first day. When can you start?”

“Would I sound too desperate if I said tomorrow?”

“Would it sound too desperate if I said that would be ideal?” I say, turning the question back on her.

“Not at all,” she laughs, shifting forward as she prepares to stand.

“Oh, before you go,” I say, causing her to stop in her tracks. “I was wondering what brought you to Cherrywood Village from LA.”

“It’s not a super interesting story,” she says with a shrug. “Life was so fast-paced in Los Angeles that I just wanted to slow down a little.”

“And how’d you land on Cherrywood Village as the place that you’d try?” I ask, understanding her reasoning but not knowing what’s so special about this small town—don’t get me wrong, I love it here, but I find it hard to believe anyone outside of the state knows it exists.

“I saw an ad for an entire house for about half of what I’d pay for a studio back home,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “I didn’t really do a lot of research, but the price was too good to pass up.”

“Fair enough,” I say, thanking whatever higher power there is that she ended up here. “Anyway, I’ll let you go. How’s nine tomorrow sound for your first shift?”

“Sounds perfect,” she says, standing up and offering me her hand.

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