king off all the reasons I shouldn’t want him.
The elevator doors shut behind me, breaking me out of my thoughts, and I take one step into the office, my mind instantly going fuzzy. Three receptionists are sitting behind an all-glass desk. To the left, I find the waiting area full of clients, seated in white leather chairs. To the right is a long hallway lined with offices. “Wow,” I breathe.
Anderson nods. “That’s most people’s reaction when they first visit Holt. The building is impressive.”
Impressive is an understatement. The modern offices, at least three times the size of the ones at Richardson, are furnished with dark glass desks, a Mac computer on each, and white leather swivel chairs. We pass by the receptionists, who are busy on the telephones, and I’m feeling a little out of my element by the time Anderson stops and I find Liv, sitting on a white leather couch against the wall in our office.
She gives a small yelp when she sees me. “Dude! We have died and gone to real estate heaven.”
I try to respond, but my voice is stuck, reveling in my new work
place. From ceiling to floor, windows cover the back wall, showing the skyscrapers in San Francisco’s Financial District. With the sunny day and fluffy clouds, the view belongs on a freakin’ postcard.
“Wow,” I breathe again, which appears to be all I can say.
Anderson approaches Liv’s desk, positioned close to the door. “Micah thought you would like Liv in the office with you, since you two work closely together, so we set you up in one of the larger offices.” He taps the desk with two fingers, pausing to examine me. “Is that all right?”
A flush of adrenaline tingles through me. Micah made special requests for me? Well, in this case, he’s not wrong. I do like Liv close by. “I couldn’t ask for more,” I tell Anderson. “Truly. This office is perfect.”
“Oh, it’s so much more than that,” Liv purrs, rising from the couch and taking her seat behind her desk, running her hands over the dark glass. “This office is sexy.”
I chuckle at my very happy assistant, then glance at Anderson, who’s laughing at her, too. He eventually turns to me. “This morning we thought you could get acquainted with our system. We’ve already set up a meeting at two o’clock this afternoon for you and your first clients, at a restaurant called The Vault. Do you know it?”
“Yes, I do.” I reply, having eaten there many times. “But wait. You set up the meeting? Isn’t it my job to find the clients?”
Anderson’s grin is sweet, trusting. “Not at Holt. Here, clients come to us.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. “Before I forget, here’s your company credit card. It’s not unusual for clients to request meetings over breakfast, lunch, or dinner—five-star restaurants are mandatory when entertaining clients.” I accept the envelope, then Anderson addresses both Liv and me. “Enjoy your day, ladies.”
I wait for Anderson to be out of hearing distance before saying to Liv, “This place is a freakin’ dream come true.”
“I know,” Liv mutters, still stroking the glass on her desk. “It’s a perfect new home for us.”
I give my head a slight shake. “Did you ever think we’d end up”—I wave my hands around the office—“here?”
“Hell no.” Liv grins, eyes twinkling. “But I’m glad we did.” She pauses to study me, her eyes narrowing a little. “By the way, did you have anything to do with my raise?”
“Maybe.” I smile.
“Thought so.” Liv smiles back. “I was happy with what they offered me yesterday. But Anderson had me sign a new employment contract this morning, with a better salary. So, thanks for that.”
“Were they good to you?”
Liv nods. “Very.”
“I’m glad.” There are thousands of assistants. But there’s only one Liv. And she deserves to be paid well.
I move farther into our office, passing the two sleek leather chairs in front of my desk, and then take my seat, staring at the doorway that Anderson had exited. My lungs expand to their fullest with a deep satisfied breath when I turn to stare out at the high-rise next to ours.
Five years I put in at Richardson, and now, here at Holt, I have a dream job most agents would kill for. The thought vindicates my lack of love life. At least I have a spectacular job now, instead of a decent job and no sex life.
“So…” Liv drawls, turning me away from the window. Her chin is resting on her hand, eyes dancing. “Are we going to finally talk about the fireworks between you and Micah yesterday?”
I hastily avoid looking at her and begin setting up my Mac. “Nope, ’cause there were no fireworks.” I’d dodged that particular question from her all day yesterday. Apparently, my luck had run out.
“Right,” Liv says. “So all that intensity bouncing between you two is normal everyday stuff.”
“Yup.” I give a firm nod. “Totally normal.”
“You’ve never been a good liar,” she says dryly. “You know this, right?”