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I like the idea of getting the kids excited when it comes to imagining what they want to do when they grow up. Having another person besides myself talking about their career would be very useful.
“That sounds great, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll find someone,” he tells me confidently.
We’re interrupted by a knock on the door, eliciting a small groan from my father.
“Come in,” he calls out, and the door quickly opens.
My head turns around, curious as to who is coming in. I’ve only met a few of my dad’s work colleagues, and that was years ago.
Out of all the people who could have walked in, this is the last person I’m expecting. The president could be standing there, and I would probably be less surprised.
Coming into my dad’s office is none other than the man who chatted me up the other night.
He looks even more imposing in broad daylight. Over six feet tall, his presence fills the room with a tension that rocks me to the core. He greets my dad with a firm handshake, exuding confidence and poise from every pore.
The word gorgeous feels woefully inadequate to describe him.
A slim-cut charcoal gray suit fits him as a second skin. The fact that his huge biceps haven’t popped their inseams is a testament to the masterfully crafted piece of clothing. A white shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, giving him a hint of rugged, informal charm.
He’s big, stunning, and chiseled.
And when his heavy gaze falls on me, I swallow audibly.
Would I be a different person today if I had gone home with him the other night?
When he recognizes me, his eyes turn dark and ravenous.
I quickly whip my head back to face my dad, hoping he’ll leave without incident. I really hadn’t planned on having an awkward encounter today.
“I came to get those Brennon case files.” Tyler turns his eyes back to my dad, his deep voice sliding like silk over my goosebumps.
Why did it have to be a three-day weekend for the kids? I could be coloring with five-year-olds now. Instead, I’m sitting in my dad’s office, my breath hitching, unable to tear my gaze away.
“Ah yes, I have them right here,” my dad says, standing up and heading to a row of black filing cabinets at the back of his office.
Tyler shifts his gaze to me, and my entire body hums under its weight. He gives me a knowing smile.
“Tyler, have you met my daughter, Maria?” my dad calls while sifting through thick folders.
Shit.Shit.Shit.
Knowing I can’t be rude, I stand up from my seat and turn to face Tyler.
“No, I . . . I don’t think I have.” He smirks, swallowing me with his eyes. His voice is cool, exuding composure and control.
My dad turns back around with a manilla folder filled with papers.
“It isn’t a lot, but here it is,” he says as he hands Tyler the folder.
My eyes widen at the sight.
That isn’t a lot?
Tyler clears his throat, giving a quick, “Thanks,” before he takes a step back. He gives me a conspiratorial look.
There is some sort of satisfaction knowing that I’m his boss’s daughter and he had no clue when he was hitting on me. But he doesn’t look too uncomfortable now. It feels as if we are in this together, so it doesn’t completely feel like a win.
Before Tyler can leave, my dad continues talking.
