I stare at the gold letters that spell out Garrett Mack’s name on the plaque. I can’t believe I’m going to work for someone bringing so much money and clout to the firm, whether it be as his fancy schmancy executive assistant or his regular old fashioned secretary.

I’m running my fingers over the raised lettering on the plaque, trying to get up the courage to knock, when I hear a loud voice chastising someone inside, someone I can only assume is Garrett. I can barely make out the words, but I hear the important parts loud and clear.

“Garrett, I can't believe you’ve gone and done this behind the partners’ backs like this. We told you, male assistants only. We know you have designs on her. You have got to start thinking with your brain and not your dick. It’s just not in fashion, not these days. I’m not about to go down for your dalliances in a sexual harassment suit. Do you hear me? It’s not acceptable to be a cad, not today, and it’s certainly not a welcome look for the firm.”

Another voice that I assume is Garrett’s is quick to shoot back, “Oh, Asher. You’re overreacting. How can it be that it was acceptable to be a cad back when you met Madilyn, but now it’s this big horrible thing that no one except for you is allowed to be?”

“We’ve discussed this,” the other person— Asher, apparently— shoots back. “It was not acceptable when I did it and we want to make sure the firm is protected. You said you understood, and agreed.”

“I did, and I do,” Garrett says back. “Sure, the new girl's attractive based on her photographs, but I won't do anything with her at work. I’ve learned my lesson. And what I do during my off time quite frankly isn’t any of the goddamned partners’ business.”

Should I have been hearing this?

“Garrett, you know better than that.”

“I know, I know. It was just a joke. I’m not going to see her off the clock either. Lighten up."

“This is no laughing matter. You have been warned, my friend.”

I take this as my opening and tap on the door ever so lightly. I’d considered running away, but, knowing my luck— which is always bad— Erin will find me in the hallway and report me to Garrett as too dumb to work here. So I figured I had no choice but to get it over with and make my entrance now.

Someone yells, “Come in!”

But I’m so nervous that I stand frozen— partly because I’m afraid of interrupting the heated discussion and partly because I feel I need to be very careful in this place— this law office.

Everything is so formal, so expensive, so intense— the furniture, the artwork, the gold lettering, the personnel. There’s even a wall of Faberge eggs encased in a glass display right behind the reception area couch.

And although I was distracted by Erin’s frizzy black hair and slightly crooked teeth, I had managed to notice the signed paintings on the wall of the lobby. They are the real deal. I gulp hard.

Then I hear, “I said, come in!” 

Oh, no. I’ve already destroyed my first impression. And as Martha back in Stone always told me, I only get one of those.

I start to push the door open and it swings back.

There’s an old man standing on the other side of it and he extends his hand to me and smiles back at Garrett, as if approving of me as his latest hire. I feel like the old guy is undressing me with his eyes, so I tug at my pencil skirt nervously.

“Lester Mack,” he says, as I shake his hand.

I get it. This is my new boss’s father. The reason that Claude told me Garrett has joined forces with the firm.

Then, Lester says to Garrett, “As I said, we never settle in court, but in life, well, that’s quite a different story, my friend. Settling, essentially taming the rebellion, going from boy to man, now that can be a beautiful transition.”

I remember how Claude said Lester is half senile and everything falls into place. At the same time, the other man standing up beside the couch where a third man— I presume Garrett— is sitting, says, “Lester, thank you but you may leave now.”

Garrett says, “Yes, thanks Dad, we don’t need you in here any more.”

Lester ignores them, instead turning to me and saying, “And you must be the beautiful Carolina Abbott. Welcome.”

I stammer a thank you, and as he walks past me he says over his shoulder, “Garrett, we’ll talk later.”

“Yes,” Garrett says, and then he nods at the remaining man in the office. “You, too, Asher. We’ll talk later.”

Asher follows Lester out, stopping to shake my hand. He’s attractive, but not as attractive to me as Garrett is. I notice a wedding ring. And then, after we’ve both introduced ourselves, Asher is gone too, and it’s just my new boss and me.

I stand in the door frame and something quite odd happens. I seem to lose my breath. I look at Garrett, perched on an ultra-modern, gray upholstered lounge-style couch. The kind with sleek wooden legs.

My God, he is gorgeous. I just stand staring, unable to speak.

I already knew from his profile on the State Bar Association website that he was good looking and powerful. I knew from our phone call that his voice sounded important. And now I know he wanted to get with me—at least according to the other attorney, Asher, who was yelling at him just now.

A shiver runs down my spine as I think about all the ways this man— my new boss— could defile me, and I’m in need of a good defilement, having gone so long without anything close. It’s enough to make a girl weak in the knees and wet in the panties.

I try to shake the forbidden thoughts out of my head. I need to focus on the here and now, and on what Garrett is doing.

He had begun to speak into a recorder— dictating some notes, I assume—but now he put it down. He has one leg crossed on top of the other, and my eyes immediately go to his leather brown shoes. They look very expensive. Then my eyes have no choice but to travel to the slightly bulging package underneath his slacks.

He glances up, and I feel like my legs might give way under me. This isn’t a Taylor type of attraction. He isn’t a bad boy in high school who makes me wet just by squinting and scowling.

No, this is different. Garrett is exquisite. He’s probably twenty years my senior, with gray wavy hair and brown tortoiseshell glasses framing dark brown hair. He smiles, and I think, Carolina, focus. Focus. This is not the time to get lost.

But it’s too late.

I take a slight step forward and he introduces himself, although I’m not really listening. I picture myself pulling his glasses off, uncrossing his legs, and straddling his bulging package right here and now. I want to grind on him and ride him into oblivion.

Something electric is happening. I examine his sparkling blue eyes and perfect crow’s feet… and suddenly his voice snaps me out of my stupor. The instant attraction I feel for him will have to wait. He is my new boss, after all. But the chemistry is real, and undeniable.

Is it the power? Is it his apparent millions— perhaps billions? All I know is that I had never felt quite like this so immediately. I am overcome.