The Invitation

The executive secretary looked at me as if I had committed a crime. Her voice was as hard as diamond when she said, “Sit down properly. And straighten your blouse before you go in to see the boss, miss.”

I smiled sweetly and winked at her. “Thanks for the advice.” Then the door opened.

The room was large, bright, elegant. Leather. Glass. Power molded into shape.

And in the middle of it all: him.

Tall. Over 6 feet, I guessed. Broad shoulders under his dark suit, hair silver-gray at the temples, neatly combed back. His gaze—when he finally lifted it—hit me like a cold drink on hot skin. Alert. Scrutinizing.

Unashamedly calm.

“Sit down,” he said.

I walked slowly, swaying my hips almost imperceptibly, as if I wasn't nervous. But I was. I let myself fall into the chair. The cold leather on my bare skin sent a slight shiver down my thighs. My blouse stretched tightly across my chest. I saw his gaze linger there briefly—almost imperceptibly. But I had noticed. I always noticed things like that.

He opened a file and spoke without haste. “You're in your second year of training.”

I nodded.

“Part of our training is to attend meetings with business partners.”

Another nod. I liked his voice. Deep. Calm. Controlled. I'd love to know what he sounded like when he lost control.

“You'll be accompanying me to a business meeting tonight. Three external partners. Important. Discreet.”

I swallowed. And smiled. Of course, I couldn't keep my cheeky mouth shut: “Sure. What should I wear—a little black dress or black hot pants?”

Now he looked up. Directly. Razor sharp. And something flashed in his eyes. “Appropriate. No gutter look.” He made a vague gesture in my direction. “Buy something stylish that is appropriate for our company and the occasion.”

He stood up and walked to the window. I looked at his back. His hands were clasped. He didn't say anything for a long time. Then, without turning around:

“Get five hundred dollars from accounting. The rest of the day is yours. I’ll pick you up at your place at eight o’clock sharp. And Cloe…”

He turned slowly. He looked at me as if he had just noticed that I was still there.

“Surprise me.”