Page 6 of Texting the CEO's Obsession
I can think about my mystery man all I want when I’m off work, but for now, I’ve got plenty to focus on.
A fresh stack of files is on my desk when I step into my cubicle. I frown as I leaf through them, immediately recognizing Sloane’s sloppy work.Lovely.A sticky note rests on top of them, instructing me to take them up to Mr. D’Amico’s office for him to review.
We haveinternsto run these sorts of errands.
If I refuse, Sloane is sure to throw a hissy fit. That’s the last thing I want to deal with right now. I gather them up in my arms, along with the risk analysis and financial approval I need signatures on, and hurry back toward the elevator.
The executive’s offices are on the top floor, but my badge clearance doesn’t allow me past the thirtieth. Thankfully, the security guard knows me and lets me up without much of a hassle when I tell him I have files for Mr. D’Amico.
It doesn’t take long to get to the top floor, and I march down the hallway toward my CEO’s office without giving myself a moment to overthink.
I smooth out my skirt, making sure it lies flat just below my knees, and straighten my glasses before reaching one hand up to knock on the solid wood door.Here goes nothing.
“Come in.”
I take a calming breath before stepping in, knowing that the sight of Nick behind his desk will set my heart racing. No matter how many times I may call him Mr. D’Amico in person, I like to think of him as Nick in the very private recesses of my mind.
Not that I’d ever say that name out loud. With my luck, it might end up slipping out one day. Fate has a funny way of letting me make the wrong decisions at the most inconvenient of times.
Focus.I’m here to work, not think about how head over heels I am for him. Walking briskly up to his desk, I pretend like nothing’s on my mind. It’s a hell of an act, considering my mind buzzes just from being this close to him.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. D’Amico.” I set the files down on the corner of his desk, keeping my posture perfectly straight so I don’t fidget nervously. “I just need signatures on the top two. All of the rest are for your review.”
Nick snags the stack of files, glancing up at me curiously as he flips the first open to scrawl his signature on the line.
“I don’t recall needing to review anything from you,” he says, blunt as ever.
“From Sloane, not me,” I clarify. “She asked me to bring them up.”
Some of the files technicallyarefrom me, since Sloane is far too lazy to actually do her job, but I’m not about to rock the boat by informing my CEO of the fact that I do a solid eighty percent of Sloane’s work. Is it above my pay grade? Yeah, by a lot.
So is tattling on my direct supervisor.
I just want to do my job and prove my skill set, not deal with inter-office drama.
“Is Sloane too busy to do her job herself?” Nick asks, arching a thick brow in annoyance.
I glance away, not able to keep eye contact while I lie to his face. “She’s wrapped up in an important call at the moment, sir.” If you can call bullying her poor nail tech into squeezing her in for an appointment on no noticeimportant.
Nick frowns and makes a noise under his breath, one that I can’t quite decipher the meaning of, before turning his attention back to the files. A strand of hair falls over his forehead, dark against his olive skin. I allow myself a moment to fantasize about brushing it back into place as he scrawls out his signature.
What would it be like to touch him? To feel those cold, imperious eyes fixed on me as I drag my nails over his scalp? Would he be gentler in bed, or would he be just as demanding as he is in the boardroom?
He’s so stunning that it hurts to look at him sometimes. My thoughts swing wildly back and forth between what it would be like to kiss him sweetly and how much I want him to bend me over this desk.
The fantasy fizzles out the instant he looks up again, pushing the signed files back across the polished oak of his desk. He clears his throat when I don’t immediately move to take them, arching a brow imperiously.
“Thank you, Mr. D’Amico.” I gather the files and smile awkwardly at him, always wanting to draw our interactions out and never brave enough to do so. “Is there anything else you need?”
His eyes linger on my lips for just a second before he shakes his head.
“No.See yourself out.”
“Yes, sir.”
I don’t allow myself a glance back at him as I exit his office and pull the door shut behind me, but I do give myself five secondsto beat back the blush that always rises on my cheeks when I’m around him. God, I really am pathetic when it comes to him.
My heart is still pounding in my chest.
