Page 12 of Babies for the Big Shot
“Fearless.”
“That’s just the coffee.”
She twists a ring on her finger, then goes still, eyes locked on mine. I make my decision.
“You’re hired.”
She blinks. “Excuse me?”
“You’re hired.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t make decisions lightly.”
Her brows knit. “Why?”
“Because you’re the only person I’ve seen in weeks who doesn’t look at me and see a salary or a stepping stone. You’re good. Better than good. And I don’t let talent walk out of this building.”
She watches me, searching for the angle. I let her look. There’s no angle. Just the truth.
Finally, she straightens her spine. “I want a real title. Not junior assistant. And I want a seat at the table for strategy meetings.”
Bold.
“Noted.”
“Oh, and I’m not getting your coffee.”
“I wouldn’t dare ask.”
She inhales, shallow and quick. “Then fine. I accept.”
I stand, extending my hand across the desk. She hesitates, then takes it. Her grip is small but strong, electric against my skin.
This isn’t over. We both know it.
“Welcome to Ashford Holdings, Ms. Brooks.”
She withdraws, her expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, I see uncertainty there, fear even, before it’s masked behind irritation.
She turns and walks out without looking back.
And I do the one thing I shouldn’t.
I watch her go.
The sway of her hips. That skirt, hugging every curve with the quiet confidence of someone who knows the effect she has. Legs toned and long, moving with careless grace, each step a reminder that I’ve just made the worst mistake of my career.
I drag a hand down my face, exhaling a breath that edges into a groan.
This isn’t just attraction.
This is a calculated risk with no upside.
And I just hired it.
CHAPTER THREE
