Then again, I know all too well that looks can be deceiving…
“Look, I’m paying her to work for me, so basically, I’m her piggy bank. Giving her any chance to exploit me for everything I have is a headache I can’t afford. Neither can KH Industries.”
“I get it. It’s smart to be cautious. But this is just one wedding. And not all women are Amber.”
“Ultimately everyone shows their true colors.”
“You are one cynical son of a bitch.” He shakes his head. Whether out of astonishment or defeat, I don’t know. Probably both.
“No, I’m a realist,” I say, brushing off his reply as I lock stares with a pretty, smiling blonde. The conversation—not to mention the memories—has me annoyed and agitated. Time to numb my feelings with some temporary pussy. As I rise from my barstool, I clap Jake on the back. “Happy hunting. I’ll see you in the office on Monday, buddy.”
Chapter Two
Monday, May 9
Kiera
“Shit, I’m so late.” I mutter to myself as I hustle across the parking lot, key card in hand, wincing at the sound of my heels clacking across the concrete. “I shouldn’t have pushed the snooze button twice.”
I’ve only been working at KH Industries for a few weeks, and the last thing I need is for my boss to think I don’t take my job seriously.
Before becoming Jonathan Knight’s assistant, I expected to be working for someone married with children. Jonathan Knight is the exact opposite. He’s an incredibly handsome bachelor in his midthirties whom I secretly wish wasn’t off-limits. And I’m not the only one. Office gossip says he’s a major manwhore, but he refuses to hook up with anyone on KH Industries’ payroll. Though I admire his moral compass, it sucks ogling him from afar.
The other women in the office can’t stop eyeing him, either. I don’t blame them. And when he smiles…I sigh. No, I absolutely do not remember the way his blue eyes gleam under the thick fringe of black lashes or the flash of his white teeth in his sun-bronzed face. I can’t.
During one of my lunch breaks last week, I heard an intern approach him and ask for his number. Though he declined, she seemed even more dazzled by him after his very kind rejection. Since I’ve been on the receiving end of one of those intense, seemingly personal stares, I get it. One look, and I turn warm and tingly, even though he’d never look twice at me likethat.
I’m convinced the universe is laughing at me. It created this beautiful man…and then made him my dedicated, ethical boss so he could never be mine. I feel like the punch line of a joke.
With a shake of my head, I turn my thoughts to business.
Since I joined the company, the focus has been an amazing new platform-wide product that’s nearly ready to introduce. I don’t know much because the project is pretty hush-hush, but time is clearly of the essence. I sympathize for everyone working on this program, including Mr. Knight. They all put in so many late hours. More often than not, Mr. Knight and his siblings, Mia and Nathan, have been burning the midnight oil to make this new rollout perfect.
A few steps later, I rush through the lobby doors, coffee and phone in hand, my purse hanging from my shoulder.
I make it to the elevator when my phone rings.
I answer my best friend. “Morning!”
“The staff meeting is about to start. Where are you?” Kami whispers.
Every Monday, the Knights and Mr. Hall hold team-wide staff meetings with the employees to touch base on the company’s agenda, our progress, and their questions or issues.
Even though Kami and I work in the same building, we’re in different departments. She reports to Jonathan’s younger brother, Nathan, on the marketing team as a social media specialist.
Because KH Industries is a somewhat small—but rapidly growing—team, the bosses can usually hear everyone’s concerns and dispense feedback in an hour or less.
“I just got into the building. Don’t tell me they’ve started already.”
“Not yet, but people are pooling into the conference room. I think you have about five minutes.”
“Thank God.” I sigh in relief as I press the button to call the elevator. “I’ll be there in three.”
Ending the call, I quickly climb in and push the button to close the doors repeatedly in the hopes this contraption will move faster. I’d take the stairs, but there’s no way in hell it’s quicker to climb four flights of stairs in kitten heels. Instead, I tap my foot with impatience as the elevator slowly ascends to the top floor.
After what feels like a century, the doors open. I all but sprint to my desk that’s adjacent to my boss’s office. His closed double doors tell me he hasn’t yet left his desk.
After settling my purse in one of the drawers, I hastily reapply my lipstick, then power walk to the conference room, checking my watch. I’m here with two minutes to spare. Perfect. I feel like I’ve run a marathon, but it’s totally worth it. I just hope my feet stop screaming in protest.