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I don’t have time over the next few days to do anything but panic. I’m in the deep end, and as a boss, Hudson is scary.
He’s not an ogre. But he’s exacting and he demands excellence in everything. Right to the smallest detail.
When I said hard ass to Amber, I didn’t know how wrong I was.
He was worse.
Steel and ice ran in his veins, and no one dared to put a foot wrong around him.
No wonder he’s paying me so much. This is Gulag-style work. But with pay. It’s like back breaking but for the mind. And the worst thing? The absolute worst? He holds himself to the highest of all standards.
I saw a grown man cry. Not when Hudson was looking, but after he came to tell him that he’d screwed something up. And Hudson hadn’t said anything other than okay.
It was worse than being reamed or fired.
And me?
I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m in the deep end and I’m teaching myself to swim.
I’m getting ready to leave, but I have to send an email to one of his clients who wants a meeting. And for some reason, this woman is the worst. She’s demanding and pushy and she’s also very, very rich, so I’m not sure why she’s at the bottom of the pile.
Perhaps that’s why he needs a PA.
I live in a cavern next to his office. I’m like a side step to his receptionist. I’m about to press send on the email when the pressure in the room changes and my skin starts to buzz.
Without looking, I know he’d stepped inside.
Hudson approaches the desk of blackwood where I sit. It’s some designer piece, all curved and beautiful and I’m sort of in love with it. With my cavern, actually. It’s bright and filled with black steel and white and creams and dark, black woods.
My brain is melting because he’s there. He’s changed from his suit and is dressed head to toe in black and looks impossibly suave and dangerous in that impeccable way, and he’s so gorgeous I’m probably drooling.
“Scarlett,” he says, his voice soft and velvety. “You have a…a way of working that’s unique.”
“Thank you?”
He smiles. “Yesterday, you booked two meetings for me at the same time. One in Queens and one in SoHo. I’m good, but even I haven’t mastered time travel or cloning. Try to keep an eye on that.” He sits on my desk and crosses his legs, his gaze skimming over me and then to the computer where my hand still hovers over the keyboard.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I thought it was the following week for the Queens meeting.” His face doesn’t change, but I know that’s the wrong answer. “The follow up meeting. I’ll call and fix it. Send an edible arrangement.”
He just nods and says, “Okay.”
I know exactly why that man cried in the corner of one of the offices. That okay is horrible. I don’t know how or why, but it is. I’d rather he scream at me.
“Also…” His hand is holding my wrist, his thumb drawing circles against the sensitive skin there and I’m having trouble thinking of anything but that. “I’d rather you not press send on this email.”
“Okay. Is she your girlfriend?”
He looks completely horrified and he actually shudders. “No. Let’s just say while I want her money, I don’t want anything that comes with it.”
“You could—”
“The meetings thing is your one screw up. Now.” He lets me go like he didn’t just threaten the job. I want to ask if that threat includes our contract, but I’m not that brave. “Come on. We have things to do tonight.”
“Now?”
“That’s what tonight means.”
“I can’t.”
