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My jaw tightens. “Emma is not up for discussion.”
He tilts his head and frowns. “Don’t tell me you’ve developed feelings for this woman.”
“Are you getting hard of hearing in your old age?”
Arnold waves his hand. “Old, please. If I was old, I wouldn’t have fucked a woman in her twenties two nights ago.”
“Yeah, that Viagra works wonders.”
“You little shit.”
He laughs and I do too.
“Are we going to have lunch or are you going to make your old man starve?”
When we step out of the office, I see Emma collecting her mail from the boxes in the lobby. Thankfully, Arnold’s too busy checking out every female in my office to notice her. Her eyes catch mine and that sweet, seductive smile of hers bewitches me. Thoughts of what I want to do to her while pulling on that lengthy ponytail flash through my mind.
Arnold catches the direction of my gaze and I cut our eye contact. The last thing I want is for him to take an interest in what she means to me.
Chapter Eleven
Emma
After lunch, I go into speed reading mode. I’m just about finished with the second book I want to send to Grayson and need to find one more good one to meet my deadline of three this week. Looks like it’s going to be a late night at the office. Hopefully, he won’t be disappointed if it takes until Monday to get him the third book. It’s such an awkward position to be in; wanting to satisfy your Boss, but also hoping it won’t be long until he’s satisfying me with another orgasm.
My door is open and I hear Grayson’s voice in the lobby when he returns from his lunch. There’s something so seductive about that man’s voice. Just the sound of it sends a bolt of arousal straight to my vagina.
The sound of his feet nears my office, then I feel his presence looming behind me. I turn and grin, all too happy to see him. “How was your lunch,” I ask.
“Too long.”
“Did you have a good time with your father?”
With a tight jaw, he frowns. “Fun is a word I would never use when describing anything with him. Do you have my keys?”
His curt responses concern me.
“Oh, yes.” I reach into my purse and pull his keys out and hand them to him. “I didn’t drive it here though.”
“Why?”
“Grayson, you drive a Nissan 370z. I was too afraid of damaging it. It probably costs double what I make in a year.”
“It only cost thirty-five thousand, Emma and if I wasn’t afraid of you damaging it, you shouldn’t have been.”
“Only thirty-five thousand. I didn’t want to risk it.”
Grayson turns to leave without saying another word and my stomach knots.
“Grayson.”
He turns back to look at me. His thoughts seem a world away.
“I’ve sent representation for two more authors’ manuscripts and will have their packets to you in the next hour. I may not have the third book to you until Monday. Is that okay?”
“It’s fine, Emma. You’ve worked hard on the ones you’ve sent, but no later than Monday.”
He walks out and I’m left feeling confused and a little hurt by his all-business attitude. Not wanting to press the issue, I get back to work sending the emails to the authors and then the packets to Grayson. Thirty minutes later, I open a new manuscript Lisa sent me and dive in. Twenty minutes later, I close that manuscript, respond to Lisa that I’ve rejected it and move onto the next. This happens three more times and I’m becoming concerned I might not meet Grayson’s deadline. I open the fifth manuscript and thankfully this one sucks me in enough I want to keep reading.
