Page 7 of Rewrite the Rules

“Hello there.” I try to mask my incredulousness as pleasant surprise.Um, excuse me? Are you lost? In my office?Everyone from the team is on the fifteenth floor sitting through an exhausting sermon about maximizing investment returns.

He turns around and my knees buckle.

Holy shit.

I suck in an air bubble in surprise, then swallow audibly, forcing the large airy lump down my throat. I hold my own hands to stop the jittering, but there’s nothing I can do about the nerves ricocheting in my chest like a game of pinball.

He is—how do I explain this eloquently?

Agonizingly, uncomfortably, kind-of-makes-me-want-to-hyperventilate-into-a-paper-bag…gorgeous.

This man has the most porcelain features I’ve ever seen. I don’t usually describe men as beautiful but there’s no word more appropriate. The perfectly symmetrical angles of his face look immaculately designed. His light brown hair is neatly cut, matching the tidy bit of scruff that embellishes his face. He’s wearing black slacks and a tucked-in, light-blue-striped, button-down shirt that make him look like he’s a centerfold forEsquire’s business-for-men clothing line.

What I really can’t get over are his glasses. They give such a sophisticated and polished-looking man an irresistible boyish charm. Clark Kent over here makes me want to ditch Batman and apply as Superman’s sidekick.

Warm blood fills my cheeks exposing my nonexistent poker face. My reactive skin gives me away every time. When I’m embarrassed—pink. When I’m angry—red. When I’m, for the first time in my life, instantly aroused by a stranger—crimson. Or at least I’m willing to bet. There’s no mirror in this office to confirm my inference.

“Haley, right?” The man crosses the room quickly, his hand outreached. “I’m Joel Lewis.”

“No. Adler.” I barely manage two words. It’s difficult to focus as he walks. I’m hypnotized by all the moving lines of his physique, evident even under his business clothes.I feel like a heat-seeking missile and this man is all infrared. Instinctively, I take a step backwards, overwhelmed by my very uncharacteristic instant attraction to a stranger. He’s not deterred by my retreat. He takes the extra step so we’re close enough again for him to extend his arm and reach my hand.

“You’re Steve’s assistant and the office manager, right? Steve said your name was Haley.”

“Yes, to all that. No, to Haley.” Was that a full sentence? Am I still speaking English?

I accept his handshake and an agonizing tingle runs up my neck, swells around the base of my head, and shoots back down my spine. I stare perplexed at his large strong hand cupped over mine. I’m sure this heady fog is simply the questionable pink mimosas on an empty stomach from my celebration party.

Joel smiles—or smolders, I don’t know. I think they are one and the same for a man who looks like him. “Why would Steve tell me your name is Haley?”

“My last name is Haley. He thinks it’s funny that my first name sounds like a last, and vice versa. Like I should be Haley Adler…it’s a whole thing. Anyways, Steve just calls me Haley because he won’t…not…call me Haley.”Because he won’t not?Is there any language in which blubbering idiot translates into suave and sexy? Can I switch over to that dialect exactly right now? I’m normally quick witted and words are my weapon of choice, but I’m thrown off guard by this dazzling presence in my office. Which reminds me…

“Wait, sorry why are you in my office? Who are you?”

The intrusion is not welcome, mostly because I have minimal makeup on and I definitely didn’t put too much thought into my messy bun which is still speckled with stripper-style sparkly glitter.

“Ah, yes. Context would help. I’m the new managing partner. I just moved to Denver.”

Managing partner. How is that possible? He barely looks older than I am. It’d take millions of dollars to buy in to partnership at Aura Ventures. I’m privy to this information as Steve’s loyal lap pup. So why didn’t I hear about this newmanaging partnerbefore this moment?

“Oh, wait. Is this like a partnership for accounting purposes? Are we being audited?” I ask, trying to piece this puzzle together.

“Wow.” Joel’s eyes briefly pinch closed. “It wasn’t my intention to audit my own company on my first day here. I did my homework. Aura is in good standing.”

“Mhm…WorldCom, Enron, Tyco…all once in good standing.”

“Are you saying I should be concerned? Because if you know secrets, Ms. Haley, I’m all ears.” Joel winks at me.He winks.Every cell in my body south of my navel comes to attention as if summoned to the front lines of war. They are armed and ready for God knows what.

I grapple at sassy humor, my usual defense mechanism. “Mr. Lewis, I’ve been at this office for nearly three years and yes, I know whereallthe bodies are buried. And by bodies, I mean lunch receipts. On your first day here as the new boss you should know, this office will bankrupt you off its appetite alone.”

Joel erupts into a hearty laugh.Phew.Laugh, so you don’t notice my straying eyes. “Noted. And please, don’t call me Mr. Lewis. It makes me feel ancient. Just call me Joel.”

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Twenty-nine.” Joel cocks his head to the side as if my question is unwarranted. I disagree.Steve is pushing mid-fifties which makes sense for a managing partner. Who owns a ventures firm in their twenties? I have no idea how cryptocurrency works, but it’s usually the reason college kids are able to ride around in Rolls-Royces. Maybe Joel’s into Bitcoin?

“What about you?”

I widen my eyes and feign offense. “Oh, seeIactually do mind you asking.” I bat my eyelashes playfully. “A lady never reveals her age.”

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