Page 33 of Curvy Love

“You don’t like to muddy the waters,” Jill says.

“Exactly. I mean it seems like our entire class is skilled and creative. So I don’t really know. It’s a great opportunity and I’m thankful we’ll get feedback regardless of who wins the money.”

“True. That is the best part, I suppose.”

“Oh wow, do you see who that is?” I ask, trying to nonchalantly nod my head in the direction of the giant man standing a few tables away.

Jill turns and scans the room. “Oh shit, that’s Mr. Carlisle. He’s so damn hot.”

I look and sure enough Mr. Carlisle is standing at the same table talking to the other man. “Okay, yes, I see that, but the man with him. That’s Jefferson Black of BLK-TEK.”

“Oh the portable satellite thing guy,” she says absently, but I can tell she’s still staring at Mr. Carlisle.

“It’s just the most brilliant tech invention in the last decade,” I mutter. But, yes, my eyes wander to the tall—though admittedly not as tall as the enormous Mr. Black—blond guy. He is ridiculously handsome. Like he came here from a magazine shoot instead of his office. He is dressed down, so I’ll give him bonus points for that. Wearing jeans that probably cost a couple of my car payments and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Holy arm porn, Batman. I do not need to be lusting after the man’s forearms, but they tend to be a weakness of mine. His are free of ink, at least as far as I can tell from over here. He’s got a watch on his left wrist, but that’s the only thing adorning his body except for some distracting veins that flex and move with the gestures he makes.

I raise my gaze back to his face and find him looking right at me. I swallow hard, but can’t make myself look away. He’s got resting smirk face, if that’s a thing. A perfectly appropriate amount of scruff to make him look like a sexy pirate minus the long-hair and eyeliner. What am I even saying?

I tear my eyes away and look back at my plate.

Then I realize Jill has been talking this entire time and I have no clue what she said.

“I mean do you think they have an HR policy against that?” she asks.

“I’m not sure.” Because I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“You’re smart opening your own company, because then you can do whatever you want.”

“Theoretically, yes. But I will definitely have my limitations. Financial ones for sure because my nest egg isn’t that big. I just know that…”

“Hello, ladies, sorry to interrupt,” a smooth baritone voice says from behind me.

Jill steps to the side of the table. “Mr. Carlisle, what a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for hosting the party for us. Sure beats going to a frat house for the end of the semester.”

I inwardly wince on Jill’s behalf. She has a tendency to run her mouth when she gets nervous. I turn, prepared to meet the notorious CEO.

Lies!

I’m not prepared at all for the man in front of me. Tall, broad shouldered and wickedly handsome. His brown eyes travel down my body feeling like a caress. Odd, how it doesn’t feel creepy when he looks at me like that. There’s admiration in his gaze, but it’s not cloying.

It actually takes me a second to realize I probably should be offended.

It’s probably only because he’s so ridiculously attractive that I’m not.

Okay … Must keep this professional.

I steel myself and hold my hand out to the sexy blonde.

“Mr. Carlisle, I’m Paisley McLeod. Nice to meet you.” He grips my hand and gives it a solid squeeze, but then he seems reluctant to release me. Still—in the interest of getting a fucking grip on myself, I pull my hand free and reach around him. “Mr. Black, I’m such a huge fan of your work. What you’ve done to make technology accessible in remote parts of the country and the world is truly admirable.”

I swear I hear a low growl come from Mr. Carlisle when Mr. Black shakes my hand. He gives me a nod and a brief “thank you.”

“Are you having a nice time?” Mr. Carlisle speaks again and I think he’s talking to both Jill and I, but he’s looking straight at me.

Despite my intention to hold intelligent and sensible conversation, I feel myself getting pulled in to his orbit. Before I can help myself I’m staring into his eyes.

His eyes remind me of dark Belgian chocolate. Why? I don’t know, but that’s the first thought that comes to my head. The decadence and bittersweet flavor that bursts when you let it melt on your tongue. I yank my attention away from his eyes only to get caught staring at his mouth. His bottom lip is fuller than his top, pillowy, even.

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