Page 15 of The Billionaire's Second Chance
“I just meant about the deadlines,” Ava laughed. “Listen, I’d rather read ten romances than ten political memoirs any day of the week. That’s what Will has on his desk, and no thank you. But ten men? Sign me up.” I managed a tight smile in return. Ava was a few years older than me, with sleek black hair she always tied into a knot on the top of her head, and she was very good at her job. I was continually impressed by the way she managed to have so muchfunwith people while maintaining such admirable levels of efficiency and organization. Today, though, it just reminded me of the easy way Charlie had with Superintendent Lawson.Elena. Despite being two decades older than most of them, the superintendent was just like the foolish women in so many of my query manuscripts, falling for a charming smile and some tousled hair. “Not all ten at once though,” she added with a wink, then pointed at me. “And definitely not on an empty stomach. I’ll bring you back a sandwich. Turkey?”
“Thank you, Ava,” I said. She winked again, and was gone in a swirl of sweet perfume.
CouldI get through a dozen submissions before she was back?
Only if they were really terrible; there was no way to win that bet.
I sighed, and reached for the silver letter opener I kept in my pencil cup, slicing open the topmost envelope and sliding out a stapled stack of double-spaced pages. I’d never catch up, but the printed submissions were heavy to take home with me. I skimmed the query letter and turned to the first page.
I’d read the same page three times and absorbed nothing each time before I put the papers down in a huff and turned back to my computer.
Monday at six, I typed. Better to get this over with. But at his house? I tried to imagine it. James’s apartment–the same one he’d lived in after college, shared now with his wife–was huge and spacious, with cream furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the park. Every time I’d been there–to see him or his wife and my friend and client, Edie, there had been manuscripts and papers and books trailed over the living areas, having escaped from their offices. Two laptops side by side on the coffee table.True love.
His brother Charlie, on the other hand… he probably lived in a tacky penthouse with a mirror above the bed so he could check himself out while he was with one of his little socialites. My stomach churned–it was, after all, past lunchtime. No, it wasimpossiblefor me to go to him.
It was equally ludicrous to imagine him in mine though: an empty box of a two bed, two bath, littered with discarded manuscripts, the fridge bare apart from the frozen meals my nutritionist delivered every week. I’d lived there for years now–it had been almost a decade since I moved out of the family apartment my father had allowed me to occupy during college and my graduate studies–and I still hadn’t furnished my guest bedroom. The room was full of boxes of books, published and otherwise.
No, that wouldn’t work either.
I’ll ask Superintendent Lawson if we can meet at the school. That would be more convenient for us both.
I hit send determined to put Charlie out of mind, but had barely turned back to my submission when the familiar chime of my email inbox sounded again.
Just asked the principal, it said, and I frowned. What, was heatthe school? Or just eager to send emails? Maybe it made him feel important.Says that’s fine as long as we’re out by eight, that’s when janitorial leaves for the night.
Fine, I sent back.See you then.
I wasn’t expecting another email, which made me even more annoyed when I received one, only to see a single thumbs up emoji. I frowned. Charlie was thirty-seven and CEO-slash-founder of a billion-dollar tech firm. A thumbs up emoji wasunseemly. Then again, Charlie probably woretee shirtsin the office. I was sure he didn’t have a mahogany desk like James did, an expensive leather desk chair with an imposing high back. Charlie probably had a table, I mused, picturing him adding emojis to all his work emails, his forearms flexing as he searched for the perfect smiling face to add to his morning meeting announcements. Maybe he didn’t have a chair at all, but one of those bouncy yoga balls they had at my pilates class. That would explain the abs…
“Sign her.”
I started at Ava’s voice from the doorway once again.
“Sorry?” I asked, smiling gratefully as she came in and passed a plain white lunch bag from the deli across my desk to me.
“Sign her,” she repeated, and raised a single eyebrow at me. “Whoever wrote the book that has you looking like that? Yeah. Sign her.”
“Oh, I wasn’t–” I started, then stopped, clearing my throat. Looking likewhat? God, was I blushing? I resisted feeling my cheek with my hand and confirming my suspicions–and hers. It didn’t matter; her eyebrow rose further regardless.
“Oh,I see,” she said, her musical voice even more sing-song than usual. “That’s why you’re so busy today. You have a date tonight, Sam?” she wheedled.
Now IknewI was blushing. The only date I had–the only date Ieverhad–was with my computer, in the living room I used as my home office. No, I did not have a date. I’d just been thinking of…
Charlie Martin on a ridiculous yoga ball. Charlie Martin’s abs, Charlie Martin’s strong forearms, his firm biceps in a short-sleeve tee shirt inappropriate for work attire. Charlie Martin, his hands holding mine to his warm chest, asking, “Do you want to get a drink?” Charlie Martin, his eyes trailing across my skin, his tongue darting out between his lips like he wanted to devour me whole. Charlie Martin, his mouth hot and wet against–
“Thank you for the sandwich,” I said in a rush, turning purposefully back to my laptop.
She smiled, nodding in a knowing way.There’s nothing to know.“I got you a cookie, too,” she said as she turned back to the door. “Chocolate chip.”
I waited, hands hovering over my keyboard, until I thought I could speak normally again. Ava was nearly out the door before I said, in the most professional voice I could muster, “And the cookie.”
“You looked like you deserved a treat,” she said. She wassmirking. “My mistake: with an expression like that, seems to me you already had one lined up.”
I glowered at her back as she retreated, chuckling, into the hall.
CHAPTER9
Charlie
