Page 41 of Black Ties and White Lies

These are both problems.

Beck

To:[email protected]

From:[email protected]

When I told you to dress to impress, I still meant you needed to show up to work.

My patience is wearing thin.

Beck

The second email comes in less than a minute after the first.

I begin to type a response back to him, but I realize it’s probably better to make him wait. He can sit and stew in his conference room a bit longer, wondering where both his assistant and his coffee are. I’m determined to do a good job at being his assistant, wanting to earn the large paycheck I’ll now be receiving, but I can’t help but toy with him a little. He makes it too easy. It’s too fun to make him actually show emotions.

When I get to the counter, I order both Beck and I coffee. I bite back a smile when I add a little extra to his. Not a lot, but just a tiny little something extra to spice up his boring coffee order.

The baristas are quick. In no time, I have my coffee and I’m ready to head into work. I delicately balance the drink carrier between my hands as I walk down the street. Beck hadn’t been wrong when he’d mentioned how close the coffee shop was to the office. That was probably the reason that so many people in business suits waited in line. I bet a lot of them work in the same office as me, or one of the towering buildings next to it.

Tom gives me a huge smile as I pass by his desk on my way to the elevators. I walk up to the counter of his desk and gently set the coffees on the lip, careful that I don’t spill anything. Reaching into my purse, I grab a small pastry bag from inside. I set it on the tall counter in front of me, sliding it across to him.

“I thought you might be hungry,” I explain, as Tom’s eyes light with excitement. “It’s no homemade bread or anything.”

“It’s perfect, Miss Moretti.” He opens the bag with enthusiasm, pulling the scone out and admiring it.

“How’d you know the bacon cheddar was my favorite?”

I shrug. “It was a wild guess.”

“You were already on my good side, but I appreciate you thinking of me this morning, Miss Moretti.”

My hand waves dismissively before grabbing my coffee again. “Catch you later?” I ask, taking a few steps back.

“Don’t let Mr. Sinclair be too hard on you,” he responds.

“I’d never.” I turn and walk to the elevators, waiting with a fairly large group of people to go up.

My phone alerts with another message from my bag, but I don’t risk freeing one of my hands to reach and grab it. The last thing I want to do is spill the coffee floors away from the person it’s intended for.

People spill out of the elevator as we climb higher and higher, stopping frequently to let people off. Eventually, we make it to the floor I need.

My stomach rolls a little with nerves as I take a step off the elevator. What do I do if Beck is currently in a meeting? Do I just stand awkwardly? Wait in his office? He hadn’t really filled me in on what to do once I got here other than give him his coffee, of course.

I’m busy worrying about what to do when I see him lift his arm in the air from a seat in one of the conference rooms. The crystal clear glass lets me see through as he pushes his large rolling chair away from the table and gestures for me to come in.

I awkwardly smile, not looking forward to making my entrance in front of the table of what’s got to be at least ten men and one woman.

“There you are.” Beckham hastily gets up from the chair, opening the glass door for me and ushering me inside. He leans in next to my ear. “About fucking time,” he growls, low enough for no one else to hear. He plucks his coffee from the tray, holding it in his hand as he faces the group of people all watching us carefully.

“Everyone, I’d like for you to meet my new assistant, Margo Moretti.” He looks over at me, his eyes blazing a hot trail down my body. Heat prickles up my spine as I think back to him watching me dress this morning, on the tension in the small closet space. His lip upturns slightly in an appreciative manner. Hopefully that means he likes what he sees.

I plaster on my best smile. “Nice to meet all of you.” I’m praying that Beck doesn’t go through every single one of the people sitting at the tables and introduce themselves. There’s no way I’d remember their names if so many are being told to me at once.

“These are some board members and investors. We’ll do introductions another time though. Let me show you to your office.”

He walks to his seat at the table, grabbing a legal pad from the table as well as a cup of coffee identical to the one I just gave him.

---