Page 7 of Dangerous Pursuit

“I live here, but glad to see you’re following orders.”

“I aim to please, sir.” I give him my megawatt smile through gritted teeth when a sudden sharp head pain makes me wince.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just one drink too many last night.”

“You’re way too young to be drinking.”

Seriously? He’s going to lecture me about my private life?

“Right, and I’m sure you never drank at this age. You don’t strike me as the golden child.” I shouldn’t engage, but I can’t help it.

“Oh yeah? What type do I strike you as then?”

Damn, it’s hard focusing on the conversation when his muscular bronze chest, on display from a few undone buttons, is right in front of my eyes due to his considerable height.

“The wild child who started drinking and having sex in middle school. Rebellious, defiant, and still hasn’t grown out of it.”

“That’s quite the assessment. And you derived all this how?” His left eyebrow rises.

“Well, you don’t like that your parents gave me this job, thus defiant, and you’re acting rebellious by treating me like shit. You had some skank come to your office for sex, so I’m assuming you’ve been around the block. As for the drinking, I suppose it goes with everything else. How did I do?” I ask, cocking my head to the side and wincing again from another shooting head pain.

“I guess you’ve got me all figured out. Not to step outside the box, but do you need some medicine for your headache?”

I just got whiplash.

Shaking my head, I respond, “Uh, no. I already took some. I’m just waiting for them to set in. Thanks, though.”

“All right, I’ll let you get back to work. Bye, Mia.”

“See you Monday,” I say with a smile as he walks into the elevator, then immediately drop it and sigh in relief when the doors shut.

I was doing such a good job of hiding how much he gets under my skin, but it’s exhausting, and I don’t have the energy this morning. I can’t believe I said all that, but dammit if he didn’t egg me on with the jab about my age. And what was with his nonengagement? He didn’t even argue, so maybe I was spot on.

He lives in a nice place, that’s for sure. So far, this is the swankiest building I’ve been in. Judging from his clothes, it looks like he didn’t stay here last night, and I can’t help but wonder if he was with the girl who visited the office or if he has a different one for each day of the week.

Ugh, who cares? It’s not my concern and nothing I should be thinking about anyway. But dang, it’s hard not to when he looks so good. His blond hair was casually messed up from an obvious overnighter, and as always, I could see the contour of his thick muscular arms under the shirt. A tiny part of me wonders what it would feel like to have them wrapped around me. And that’s what occupies my thoughts the rest of the day.

That was seriously one of the most exhausting weekends of my life. But being familiar with their properties will be good for the job, so I suppose it was worth it. I’m just glad Walker came through; otherwise, finishing would have been a stretch. I don’t know how my mom has done it all these years. Thank goodness for the full scholarship to San Diego State because I don’t have it in me to follow in her footsteps.

After this weekend and last week’s training, I’d be fine taking over now if I had to. Cindy did a great job getting things ready for her to leave. The situation with Jackson, however, needsimprovement. He’s beyond rude and practically refuses to deal with me, talking to Cindy like I’m not even present most of the time. His plan to get me to quit last week was obvious, but he doesn’t know how stubborn I am. Plus, I’m familiar with chauvinistic assholes like him from the poker table, and I love winning while being underestimated.

I’m surprised Cindy isn’t in when I get to her desk. Instead of twiddling my thumbs while I wait, I get right to it, working down the list she made. She had the foresight to create a spreadsheet with staff names, their corresponding departments, and responsibilities, along with daily tasks. I’ve gone through voicemails, returned a few calls, made a couple of appointments, and printed out today’s agenda all by the time Jackson walks in. When I look up, I forget for a moment what a complete ass he is. As far as looks go, he takes the cake. If only he had the personality to go with it.

Pasting on a smile, I greet him with as much enthusiasm as possible. “Good morning, sir. Do you need anything right away, or would you like me to go over the agenda for today?”

“Cut the crap. Where’s Cindy?”

Aaand we’re off to a great start.

“She hasn’t arrived yet, so I dove right in. Does she have the day off?” I ask.

“No, she doesn’t have the day off. Fuck… just… keep doing whatever you’re doing. I’ll figure it out.” He stomps into his office and slams the door.

Okay then… that went well.Cue eyeroll.

I continue with the voicemails from the weekend. Everyone and their dog must decide to call after hours so they don’t have to speak to an actual person. Most people want to be rude and complain to a machine so they won’t get talked back to. Luckily, most everything is delegated to other departments in the company—it’s just a matter of getting it to the right person.

---