ordered efficiency. When it came to dealing with so much money, she knew
that sloppiness only caused problems, so she was surprised at the lack of
order, even in the positions near the top.
“God, I hope it settles in,” she muttered to herself. She slapped open the
first file and was about to start reading through the application again, going
over any details she might have missed, when she sensed another shadow
looming near her doorway.
She wrenched her neck up to find Charles standing there. He was in his
early forties, single, and intent on hitting on every single being who had a
vagina in the office. It was especially annoying for Christina, who valued
professionalism in every bit of her demeanor when she was at work. Even
though the guy was an accountant, the last thing he seemed to be interested
in was numbers. Unless numbers meant getting someone’s digits.
“Hey, Christi,” Charles said in his obnoxious tone while his eyes raked
over her form, landing on her breasts.
Christina was wearing a crisp white blouse, but it was almost
completely covered by the black tailored jacket she had on. It matched her
black pencil skirt and black heels. Her jet-black hair was twisted into an
immaculate knot at the back of her head. Her makeup was tasteful. There
was nothing to distinguish her from anyone else here, and she certainly
didn’t give off the secretary fantasy. She was meticulous about her
wardrobe and made sure that nothing was too short or too tight.
Still, somehow Charles made her feel that she was sitting behind her
desk in nothing more than a wet white t-shirt and a little plaid schoolgirl
skirt.
“It’s Christina, actually,” she corrected in a low tone, even though she
offered a cool smile. “I’m actually busy going over these files. Now really
isn’t a good time.”
“I thought I’d see if you wanted to come to lunch with us,” Charles
droned on, still talking to her chest, as though the damned thing had