Page 32 of Tell Me Something

Filing this information away, I finished up Josh’s schedule and then let Nigel get on with his evening as it was late his time. Next I focused on travel itineraries and my emails for the next few hours. I was so engrossed in my tasks that it took my stomach growling to remind me it was well past lunch time. I passed Ana’s desk as I made my way down the hall, managing to restrain my temper when I realized she and the receptionist had obviously taken lunch for themselves from the executives’ order.

“I’m stepping out to get a sandwich if Mr. Singer looks for me.”

“I’m sure he’ll get what he needs from me, but I’ll pass on the message if he asks.” Then in Cantonese, she spoke to the receptionist. “What a stupid twit. Clearly he’s only keeping her around for one purpose.”

The girl laughed and spoke back to her in their language. “She’s not even that skinny. Big butt.”

Smiling tightly, I took some satisfaction from the fact they didn’t know I’d understood what they were saying. “Well, then. Be back shortly.”

Big butt? I didn’t have a big butt. I just wasn’t so tiny that I had barely any butt at all—like each of them.

JOSH POKED his head in to my office space and gave me a small smile later that afternoon. “You look tired.”

It was nearing four o’clock Hong Kong time, and I was feeling the effects of jet lag. “You don’t look tired in the least, which makes me kind of jealous.”

“Are you ready to take off for the hotel? We finished up early, and I have a call with the Sydney office in an hour.”

His schedule didn’t have any mention of a call. “Is this something I should have on your calendar?”

He shrugged. “I just added it. I figured I’d use it to get us out of here early.”

Smiling, I shut down my computer. I was happy to go back to my hotel room as it would give me more time to get ready for this evening.

When we arrived in the hotel lobby, Josh turned to study me. “You’re welcome to skip tonight if you’d like to crash.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Really? I would if I could. All of the schmoozing gets tiresome.”

Rolling my eyes, I decided it was time to fess up about being able to understand Cantonese. “I have something I need to tell you before the party if you have a few minutes.”

He cocked his brow. “Why don’t you get dressed and meet me up at my room about five-thirty? We can discuss it then.”

As I got off the elevator on my floor, I turned and suddenly had to ask. “Do you think my ass is big?”

He seemed to lose the ability to form words. “I, uh—Why on earth are you asking me this?”

Winking, I gave him a saucy smile and walked away, very sure that my assets were on display. “It came up, that’s all.” Glancing back, I had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes fixated on the very topic.

A HOT SHOWER did the trick, not only to rejuvenate me, but also to de-wrinkle the dress that was hanging on the bathroom door. After twisting my hair up, I reapplied my makeup, thankful for the extra time. Fastening my black stockings with garters, I found myself excited about Josh seeing them. The dress was a simple black cocktail dress circa 1950: Christian Dior with a floaty bottom, off-the-shoulder straps, and a belted waist that flattered my figure. Grabbing my clutch and finishing off with a beautiful red lipstick, I made my way up to the executive suite that Josh occupied.

When he opened the door, his eyes widened in response to me.

I gave him a flirtatious smile, keeping quiet when I realized he had a phone pressed to one ear.

He motioned me in, and I remembered he was finishing up his Sydney call. Still talking, he poured two glasses of whiskey and handed me mine. He gave a little clink to the glass and, with a small smile, sipped it slowly.

I took the opportunity to survey his spacious suite. It had an entire living room the size of my apartment, with a full-sized sofa and loveseat. A dining table and a small bar were one step up, next to the picture window overlooking the city. I walked over and admired the view.

“All right, gentlemen, I trust this is in good hands. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and turned his attention to me.

“What was the toast for?” I turned toward him.

He simply grinned and walked up the step to join me by the window. “To you looking lovely.”

Flushing at the compliment, I drank slowly. Whiskey wasn’t really my thing, but the warmth that spread through my belly felt good.

“Turn around for a moment,” he requested.