Like standing at the edge of a cliff, feeling the urge to jump, but fuck me, I’m not just stepping off the edge here.
I’m taking a running start.
“I just never met you properly, Mr. Hart,” I murmur.
Not lying, but trying to backpedal some.
I’ve just met the guy. How can I possibly tell him I have a weird, wet, and horny feeling for him after only seeing him once from a distance months ago?
His face softens, and he instantly replies, “Call me Michael. Only clients or the secretary call me Mr. Hart,” he informs me.
“Say it,” he says firmly, drawing the name from me like he’s drawing the very soul out of my body.
“Michael,” I practically gasp, feeling dizzy all of a sudden, noticing my foot pumping like a piston.
The very real need to touch myself starts to overshadow reality the longer I look into his eyes.
“That’s better,” he rasps, leaning back again. Instantly setting me at ease somehow. Even putting an invisible lid on my boiling mound.
Like it’s connected directly to his brain.
“Relax,” he croons, sounding much like he could be talking to himself as well as to me.
“I’ll shoot you some real-life questions, and you can answer what you feel comfortable with. There’s no need for resumes and stories. I know your skillset on paper. But I wanna know more about the real Vanessa,” he says intensely, making his chair lean back so far it creaks under his weight.
I feel my head nodding in silent agreement, glad that my leg’s stopped pumping.
But damn, I’m gonna need a sponge if this keeps up.
I’ll be swimming home in a river of my own at this rate.
CHAPTER FOUR
Michael
I surprise myself more than Vanessa when I toss her resume in the trash.
Not because I don’t know she’s perfect for the job.
She was top of her class in every subject. Jase told me so. Anyone who lets her walk out of an interview without a job is losing something special. But I’m not gonna let her go. I just want to know more about her. About what she likes and what she enjoys doing.
“Married?” I ask straight outta the gate.
Internally groaning as I kiss goodbye to the treading lightly approach, but dammit, I need answers.
I refuse to believe my luck that a girl like Vanessa is walking around unattached.
And God help me if there is someone in her life. The idea of her with anyone but me has taken root and burrowed deep over the past few months.
And I’m still kicking myself for not thinking of the job offer angle myself earlier than Jase did.
Her face shifts at my question, though.
Embarrassed again.
“I mean… if there’s anyone we need to know about. For emergency contacts, that sort of thing,” I explain rapidly.
My mouth is so dry I can feel my tongue sticking to it. Feeling like the only question I really want to ask her would be unthinkable.
Would you have me, Vanessa? Would you let me take you over this desk right now?
That’s the only question at the front of my mind.
“Just my Dad,” she eventually says, giving a little shrug.
“No boyfriend?” I ask, probing her deeper. Digging that hole a little further and wider for myself.
A flash of irritation burns in her eyes for a second, but her shoulders sag, and she only shakes her head.
“No. I’m umm…single if that’s what you mean,” she replies, sounding hurt I even brought it up.
“I have to ask,” I explain truthfully.
But even though I can’t tell her exactly why I need to know that, I explain with conviction that my staff needs to be focused. Not texting their significant other or calling in sick because they had a fight with their partner. I’ve seen it too many times on site.
Men and women ruin weeks of work because of their personal problems taking over at work.
But really, I just need to know this from her for myself.
It’s the one thing I couldn’t even ask Jase without alerting him to how much I’ve been thinking about his bestie in that way and for so long.
But I haven’t wanted to admit it to myself most days. Even though I’ve been consumed with thinking about her recently, the simple fact that a girl as perfect as her would probably run a mile if a guy my age and size came on strong…
It doesn’t even bear thinking about, and I remind myself to go slow, which is difficult.
I’ve waited months for an opportunity like this. Finally, Vanessa’s body is broadcasting replies to the transmission that’s taken over all of me lately.
Even though she’s not fully aware of it.
Or is she?
I feel the edge of my mouth curling to a smile at the thought.
“Something funny?” she asks hotly, forgetting the interview for a moment and actually saying what’s on her mind.
I like that. I like that a lot.