Page 20 of Heart of Stone

He turned to see Laura and me standing there and motioned to me to sit down. I looked at Laura for direction. She smiled and pointed to a chair near the end of a large etched glass conference table. I sat down and took a minute to further calm my nerves and take stock of my surroundings.

The furniture was sleek and modern. The table at which I sat was large enough to seat at least thirty people. The center of the table displayed a long, boat-shaped glass bowl, filled with blue, white, and black stones. There were several high-tech looking videoconference phones on the table as well.

The walls were all painted the same bright white as the waiting area. Two enormous flat screen television panels adorned the wall to my right, one of them tuned in to Bloomberg TV with the volume muted. On my left, recessed shelves held a collection of blue vases, all varying in shade, size, and shape. The far wall was nothing but glass, revealing and impressive view of New York. The room surely exhibited power and wealth, but it was nothing compared to the man who stood in it.

I studied Alexander Stone as he paced the back of the conference room. He wore black suit pants and a white shirt. He wore no jacket again today, but I saw that he had one draped over the back of one of the conference room chairs. His silver tie was loosened at the neck and his top button was undone. He looked comfortable and self-assured, and carried himself with an air of sophistication and poise. He appeared larger than life, as if he were holding the world in the palm of his hand.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water? Mr. Stone is just finishing up his call,” Laura offered, her voice low so as not to disrupt her boss. I looked up at her mannerly smile. I had almost forgotten that she was there.

“Yes, please. Water would be great,” I accepted, mirroring her hushed tone. Holding a glass of water would give me something to do with my hands, which fidgeted once again in my lap. Any sort of caffeine would just wreak havoc on my already tremulous nerves.

Just as Laura placed the glass of water on a coaster in front of me, Alexander ended his call and turned around to face us.

“Thank you, Laura. That will be all for now.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone.”

With a small nod, Laura quietly exited the room, leaving me alone with the formidable Alexander Stone.

He turned his attention to me and flashed a dazzling smile, revealing perfect white teeth.

God, this man is undeniably gorgeous.

“Good morning, Miss Cole. I apologize for the wait. I hadn’t anticipated my call to run so long.”

That’s okay – I was enjoying the view of your scrumptious behind.

“It was no trouble at all,” I murmured, rather than voice my real thoughts.

He made his way towards me, his swagger ever so prominent, and sat in a chair next to mine. He leaned back, crossed an ankle over one knee, and casually folded his hands together. For some insane reason, I felt myself blushing. I had to remind myself to breath.

“Miss Cole, are you okay? You look flushed.”

My hands immediately went to my face as I scrambled to find my voice.

“I’m fine. It’s the high elevation. Sometimes it makes me light headed,” I lied as I reached for my glass of water. I swallowed a huge gulp.

“High elevation?” he questioned skeptically.

I took another drink of water.

“Yes, this happens to me whenever I’m in tall buildings,” I said, continuing the fib in a rush.

Tall building is an understatement. Stone owns a skyscraper.

“I see,” was his only response.

If I wasn’t mistaken, I thought he looked amused.

He probably is. Women must fall all over him every day.

However, I didn’t have the luxury to be amongst those women. I had to put the breaks on and get my wits about me. This was a professional interview for arealjob. I could not allow myself to blow this because my stalled out libido decided to suddenly kick into overdrive.

“Did you know that I was the one you were interviewing? Because I don’t believe in coincidences,” I blurted out.

Smooth, real smooth.

“Of course,” he answered without prevarication.

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