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Prologue
Cheyanne’s movements were short and jerky as she stepped onto the elevator. She rubbed the back of her neck and bit her bottom lip. Pulling in a deep breath, she gave a warm, pasted on smile to the man already occupying she space. He’d already pressed five, which was the floor she needed to go to as well.
Unable to place where the nervousness was coming from, Cheyanne assured herself she had as much of a chance as anyone to get the position. In fact, she was overqualified. Not wanting to increase her anxiety anymore, Cheyanne closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. If anyone knew how important it was for her to leave CJ Enterprises as its newest executive assistant, it was God. Night after night, she prayed for this very thing, and that reminder gave her peace.
The elevator dinged, and Cheyanne stepped off. Her elevator companion’s eyes lowered to her pear-shaped ass as she walked in front of him, and his perusal of her frame from behind made her smile. She looked back at him over her shoulder and cleared her throat, causing him to quickly lift his eyes to hers.
“Uh, h-have a good day, miss lady,” the attractive, middle-aged man said.
“You too,” Cheyanne replied through her chuckle.
Since she’d moved to Rose Valley Hills from Memphis, she attracted older men. It could have been the way she dressed and carried herself… Her pristine posture and modelesque walk. Whatever the case, it was always a boost to her confidence.
Cheyanne rounded the corner, familiar with the area already. This was her third and final interview for the position. Because of that, she’d be meeting with the CEO and man she’d be working under directly—Chandler Jones. Cheyanne had done a lot of research on the company and its CEO. What she learned was the reason she was adamant about securing the executive assistant position.
Chandler Jones reminded her of a younger version of her billionaire grandfather, Port Green. Like Port, Chandler built his wealth through investments and the delicate transaction of buying failing businesses, bringing them back to life, and selling them. That, along with the art and jewels Chandler invested in, made him a multi-millionaire by the age of thirty-four, and according to her grandfather’s inner circles, he’d be a billionaire if he kept his current pace within the next five years.
At the sound of Cheyanne’s heels against the carpeted floor, Amy’s head lifted. She was the floor receptionist and always gave Cheyanne a welcoming and warm vibe when she arrived.
“Hi, Ms. Taylor. It’s good to see you again.”
“Please, call me Cheyanne, and you as well.”
“Does this mean you’re here for your third interview?”
“It does. Is Mr. Jones ready for me?”
“Let me check.” Amy stood and headed to the office that was in the back of the octagon shaped space. She knocked and stuck her head in, then said a few words too quietly for Cheyanne to hear. Her head bobbed as she opened the door wider. “Mr. Jones is ready for you. Come on in.”
Cheyanne took long strides in that direction, repeating the affirmations she’d said to herself in her bathroom mirror before she left home that morning.
“You’ve got this,” Amy whispered softly, giving Cheyanne a soft pat on her back.
“Thank you, Amy.” Cheyanne winked and squeezed her hand gently before stepping inside.
Her smile faltered at the sight of Chandler Jones. As the door closed behind her, she looked back, suddenly feeling trapped. The pictures she’d seen of Chandler online didn’t seem to do him much justice.
“Wow.” He stood, eyeing her frame slowly. “Come in.”
Cheyanne took short steps in his direction. The flirty smile he gave her, before he licked his lips, made her heart race. Chandler walked around his desk and extended his hand in her direction, and Cheyanne hesitantly placed hers inside.
“Good morning, Mr. Jones. Thank you for meeting with me.”
“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”
Chandler released her hand and pulled the dark brown chair back slightly for her to sit. As she did, his closeness caused her arms to cover with chills. He didn’t return to his seat behind his desk until she was seated comfortably, and it wasn’t until he’d done the same that Cheyanne released the breath she was holding.
He was handsome.
Handsome seemed like too basic of a word.
His tall, athletic frame was covered in Nutella brown skin. The tapered, low fade fit his square shaped head perfectly. Chandler’s beard was thick and shiny, surrounding skin colored, juicy lips. His eyes were dark, tight, and like lasers as he stared at her. The playful smile was barely there, but visible enough to keep Cheyanne calm.
“Shall we begin?” she asked, lacing her fingers in her lap. While Cheyanne wouldn’t say the stare down was awkward, it evoked a feeling she didn’t need to explore with the man she hoped to soon be working for.
“I suppose so.” Chandler sat up in his seat and picked up what Cheyanne assumed was her résumé. “Are you… in a rush?”
Cheyanne’s lips lifted slightly as she smirked. “Not necessarily, but I’m anxious about the interview. I really want this job.”
