Page 2 of Simply Irresistible
“Thanks for lunch.”
“Of course,” she said, pulling me in for one of her patented big sister hugs. Growing up, they always made me feel better. This one had that same effect today. “I love you, little brother.”
“Love you, too, Han.” I gave her a quick wave before I took off through the park, knowing if I was even half a second late, I’d be filleted. I ran straight through Columbus Circle towards West 57th where the headquarters for the magazine were located. I made it into the elevator with four minutes to spare, having barely broken a sweat. Those morning runs were really paying off.
I was so impressed with myself that I didn’t even realize I had company in the elevator until I caught a flash of pink out of the corner of my eye. I looked over and met the eyes of my elevator companion.
It washer.
I’d seen this woman before. She worked in the building—obviously—I thought forLeading Lady, the sister magazine ofYou’re the Man. I’d seen her get off on that floor before; it was right below mine. She was cute, with big greenish-brown eyes and thick, jet black hair that framed her round face and fell just past her shoulders. Her dark hair and olive skin tone were a sharp contrast to her pale pink skirt suit that perfectly matched her plump lips. She was also tall, which was refreshing for a guy like me who was six-foot-five. In her heels, she was only an inch or so shorter than me.
I gave her a nod of acknowledgement, not wanting to startle her by speaking. She seemed shy, almost painfully so, sticking hard to the opposite corner of the large elevator. I wished she’d make eye contact. I would have liked to see her eyes again. I’d never seen a shade of green like that before. I wanted to study her eyes.
The bell on the elevator dinged and my mystery woman stepped out of the car without so much as a parting glance. I would have been offended if I wasn’t certain that it was just the shyness. The doors closed and the elevator rose one more level to my floor. I closed my eyes, straightened my tie and suit jacket, and then exited when the doors opened.
Mystery woman already forgotten.
It was back to hell.
2
Melanie
I must have turned twelve different shades of red on that elevator. Ifelthis stare like a caress, and it only made my skin heat more.Gah!Why did I have to be so socially awkward?
I bumped into the mail cart, muttering an apology as I hurried through the city of cubicles, back towards my suite. Brianna Heatherly, the Editor in Chief ofLeading Ladymagazine, was my boss. She was the only person on this floor with their own suite. She was also a wonderful woman and an even better editor, but she was firm, and if I was late returning from lunch, she’d treat me the same way she treated every other staffer here...with an iron fist.
I will not be late.
I slipped in the door, dropped my bottom in my chair, swung my legs under the desk, and shook the mouse, waking up my computer. I plugged in my username and password and the computer screen changed to show my busy desktop screen just as Brianna pushed open the French doors to her office.
“Melanie,” she said as she stepped through the doorway in a pair of pressed black slacks and a red flowy top that I was sure was handpicked for her by some designer. Her blond hair was cut in a severe bob, barely moving as her icy blue eyes locked on mine. “I need you to cancel my afternoon. Please reschedule everything you can for some point later this week.” She turned around before I could acknowledge her request/demand, then stopped. “Actually, see if you can get Bradley back on the schedule as soon as possible.” Bradley was a representative from Jason Red, the new “it” designer who had a huge spread in an upcoming issue.
“Anything else, Brianna?”
She peeked over her shoulder, her eyes moving over me. “You look cute today,” she said with a barely perceptible smile, then disappeared behind closed doors again.
I smiled and got to work sending off emails and texts to the assistants of the people on Brianna’s schedule for this afternoon. To make my job easier, when I’d started working for Brianna four years ago, I reached out to the assistants of her business associates. In many organizations, it was the assistants who did most of the work. Sure, the execs made the deals and decisions, but the assistants were the ones who made the appointments to discuss the deals. The assistants greased the wheels. So one week, while Brianna was in Milan for a fashion show, I called every single assistant and introduced myself. A handful of them hung up on me, angry with me for wasting their time, but the majority of them appreciated the effort. Being Brianna’s assistant held some clout, after all. I never did forget the ones who hung up on me, and every now and then I have some fun with that. Brianna was widely known around the fashion industry and everyone wanted to be on her good side, and therefore…my good side. Over the years, I developed acquaintanceships with some of the assistants and we learned each other’s preferred forms of communications. Like I knew for a fact that Billie, assistant to this fabulous makeup artist, would rather me send her a text than call unless it was a dire emergency. Brianna needing to reschedule her three o’clock wasnotan emergency. And Jonathan, personal assistant to supermodel Leigha Morelli, preferred email because he has some anal-retentive filing system. By the time I was finished shooting off messages to the others, Jonathan had already replied that the same time tomorrow, which Brianna was also available for, worked for Leigha. I adjusted Brianna’s digital schedule to reflect the change.Perfect.
As I waited for the rest of the replies to roll in, my mind drifted back to the guy in the elevator. Oh boy, was he delicious. I’d seen him in the elevator enough to know he must work somewhere in the building. Whenever I saw him, I didn’t see which floor he got off at, so I guessed he worked on one of the upper levels. But where? I tapped a few keys on my computer and pulled up the building’s directory. Parks Publishing, Inc., the parent company ofLeading Ladymagazine, had several subsidiaries throughout the building, includingYou’re the Man, Move Your Body,andBaby Stuff.It was probably the most awfully named collection of magazines, but the owner, Preston Parks, was a billionaire, so I didn’t think he cared what I thought of the names of his magazines because they obviously worked.You’re the Manwas one floor up, beyond that was a marketing firm, an ad agency, and a law firm. He was dressed for any one of those in his light gray suit, which he filled out nicely, too. He was taller than me, which was a plus, with lean muscles—his suit jacket snugly fit around his chest, shoulders and biceps, the fabric stretched ever so much. Mmm. His face was nice to look at, too. His short, light brown hair was done in that purposefully messy way guys always got away with. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked at me, his full lips transforming into a smirk just before he’d nodded at me. I blushed just remembering it.Why do I have to be so awkward?It had been a decent opportunity to chat up a new guy—a newgorgeousguy—and I screwed it up.
My dating life had suffered since moving to Manhattan after college. It was never all that active to begin with but being a tiny speck in the ocean of a city that was New York did absolutely nothing to help me come out of my shell. If I was shy before, I didn’t know what I was considered now. At work, I was cool and confident. When I was sitting behind my desk, I knew what was expected of me. When I went out into the world...anything could happen. It was both wonderful and terrifying all at once. I just kept my head low and did what I had to do. So yes, it made it very difficult to meet new people.
Speaking of people...my phone pinged with a new text message, and this time it was from my best friend, Meredith.
Meredith: What’s happening, City Girl?
Melanie: Just another day. How about you?
Meredith: Same old.
Melanie: Well, this is riveting but…
Meredith: I might have gotten engaged this weekend.
Was she kidding me right now??
Melanie: And you’re texting me?!?!
