Page 7 of Craving Danger

“Yes. He’s by the elevators,” she whispers as if we’re sharing state secrets.

I asked Charlotte to give me a heads-up in the mornings so I can get Mr. Vitale’s coffee ready.

“Thank you!” I end the call and quickly change the flats for my high heels. Wearing the wireless Bluetooth earpiece I installed this morning, I get up from behind my desk and rush to the kitchenette.

I pour Mr. Vitale a cup of coffee and place two shortbread cookies on the saucer. Carrying the tray to his office, I set it down on the side of his desk and quickly dart to the door. Just as I step out of his office Mr. Vitale comes stalking down the hallway.

Today, he’s wearing a gray suit, and I have to admit, he looks hot as hell.

Emphasis on hell.

Smiling the most professional smile I can muster, I say, “Morning, Mr. Vitale.”

His eyes sweep over my pantsuit and heels before settling on the wireless earpiece, then he mutters, “Morning.”

I wait for him to disappear into his office before taking a seat at my desk. Not even a minute has passed when the emails start coming through.

I’m almost done with all the emails when a new one pops up with a request to print the latest report from the sales department.

I carry out the request and smile from ear to ear when I gather the papers from the printer. Just as I step away from the machine, a call comes through, and I quickly tap the button on the earpiece, “Samantha speaking, how can I help you?”

“Print the report I just emailed,” Mr. Vitale’s voice rumbles over the line.

I walk to his office, and not bothering knocking, I push the door open. “Here’s the report, sir.”

His eyes widen slightly with surprise as I place the document on his desk.

Feeling triumphant, I turn around and walk back to my desk.

With a smile on my face, I work until twelve, then dial Mr. Vitale’s extension.

“What?” he barks over the line.

“Can I order you something for lunch, sir?”

There’s a moment’s silence before he says, “Anything but fish.”

The line goes dead, and I scrunch my nose while I wonder what to get him to eat.

Something that’s not messy and easy to eat.

I check the menus of nearby restaurants and decide to get fried chicken and bacon sandwiches.

After I place the order, I continue compiling a performance report from all the information the department heads sent me.

By the time our food arrives, I’ve already completed the detailed performance report and send it in an email to Mr. Vitale. I pay the delivery guy, then walk to the kitchenette so I can place the sandwich on a plate and add a bottle of chilled water to the tray. Feeling quite happy with myself, I head to Mr. Vitale’s office.

When I enter the chamber of wrath, Mr. Vitale’s head snaps up, and his eyes narrow on me.

I place the tray on the corner of the desk and smile at the insufferable man. “Enjoy your lunch, sir.”

His eyes narrow even more, and tilting his head, he says, “Explain to me why it took you two weeks to deliver this standard of work.”

Asshole.

Keeping the smile plastered on my face, I answer, “I just needed time to get into the routine.”

His gaze flicks to the report, then he mutters, “I see you took the initiative to consolidate all the departments.”

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