Chapter 9 – Carolina
“Carolina Abbott, I presume?”
Did he just say, I presume?
I inhale.
This is all too much. Normally, I would think that was such a pretentious thing to say, but right now, it is perfect and very sexy.
“Um, yes. Yes, sir. I am Carolina Abbott. That would be me. I made it.”
I want to roll my eyes into the back of my head with embarrassment— I sound like such an airhead— but I simply smile, and try to continue, although I’m totally tongue-tied.
“Beautiful... Um, beautiful office. And eggs.”
“Eggs?”
“Uh, yeah. The display… Faberge Eggs?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you. That was my addition to the office decoration actually. Family heirloom. Thank you. So, Carolina. Carolina, yes… You are quite strangely a surprise. I have never hired anyone without first meeting the hire, but yes, you are a strange surprise.”
What exactly does he mean by that?
“Uh, have a seat. Welcome. You will have your own office, of course, which I will happily show you a little later, but for now let’s go over some initial basics—how I like to do things, my clients, that sort of thing.”
I’m trying to keep up, but I’m still hearing, “I will happily show you…”
I sit in a client chair on the furthest side of the office and realize from his expression that he thinks my choice of seat is weird.
“Oh, should I sit closer?” I immediately ask him. “I mean…”
“No, if you’re comfortable over there, I guess that’s fine. But this chaise is pretty big, and we have a lot to go over so…”
He half smiles. I am off to a great start. If I had a hammer, I’d hit my own head with it.
“Of course, sir. I’ll move closer.”
“You know, you can call me Garrett. I love the formality, certainly. It’s disarming, so thank you for that, but no need. Garrett is just fine, Carolina.”
Seriously, disarming? I love his eccentric word choice. I just want to jump on him. I can’t take it.
The attraction is more than palpable. I feel like there is a string between us, and someone is pulling it more and more taut until there is nothing left to do but simply let our lips meet.
But despite the apparent fever that threatens to ruin any ounce of professionalism left in me, I move over to the couch and sit next to him. I hope and pray I can keep it together.
“Great, that’s better,” he says. “I don’t have to scream. Wow. That’s nice.”
I look at him, confused. He is suddenly looking in the direction of my chest, so instead of calling any attention to it, I just stare straight ahead. What is he referring to?
He lowers his voice. “Your heart. That’s extremely beautiful.”
My heart. Oh, my God. This isn’t happening.
Then it occurs to me that he’s referring to the platinum charm necklace that Jake had bought me. I look down and place my hand on the charm.
“Oh, thank you. My… ex-husband… bought it for me. That bastard. But I love it. It holds a special place. In my heart, like you just said.”
What is wrong with me? Why did I just share that much? And why can’t my brain seem to make my mouth form the words it wants to say?
This man is having a real effect on me, clearly. It occurs to me as I look up to see him smiling and almost half winking, that the flirting might be mutual. Could it really be only me feeling this way? Or is he giving it back?
I smile sweetly, and finally he gets down to business.
“I assume you met Erin.”
I nod, attempting to appear neutral. But my face must give away my mild disdain.
“Oh, she is a tough one at first, but don’t get on her bad side. She’s a great gal. And listen, she is the glue here. If you need anything, she knows it. Trust me.”
“Got it.”
“I just want to go over a few of our current accounts. And you already filled out a ‘conflicts list,’ right?”
“Yes. Prior to starting.”
“Great.”
He picks up a manila file from a credenza near the couch. My eyes roam back to his crotch. I can’t help it. It looks big, like nearly bulging out of his pants. I seem to have no choice but to wonder exactly how big it really is and wish I could see it naked, feel it inside me.
He says, “Did you have a hard time finding us?”
“Well, uh, first I had to move here. And then I couldn’t seem to make it out of the parking garage, let alone the…”
I trail off, willing myself to shut up. He doesn’t need to know all of this. He was just asking to be polite.
“Anyway, I found you,” I tell him. “And I am really excited to be here, sir—uh, Garrett— and very prepared, of course, to do you well.”
I almost throw up in my mouth as I hear myself blathering on. Did I just say I’m prepared to do him well? Obviously, that was not at all the word choice for which I was aiming.
He smiles and wipes his lips with his hand in a kind of embarrassed and cute way. He lifts the folders off his lap ever so deliberately.
“I mean to, um, represent you well,” I correct myself. “I am quite adept at organization and business in general. So, this is the perfect match…”
I just stop finally. I just give up on the act of speaking. It’s bad. I’m at the edge of the cliff. There is no going back.
“Absolutely. Well, you will do well, I am sure of it,” he says, graciously acting as if I wasn’t just committing word murder. “We’ll go over some key things today and most of the morning tomorrow, and then you’ll be on your own.”
I nod, although I don’t really like the sound of that. I’m sure I’ll have a lot I need shown to me still. And I also don’t like the thought of being outside of his very presence. I wish I could just sit here next to him on this couch forever.
“I’ll let you sit with Erin a bit to learn the phones too, so you know how we like them answered, or how I prefer it done anyway. Because when I’m not in the office you’ll be answering my phone for me personally,” he continues. “The various partners are different, and I will certainly introduce you. You have met my father, old Lester. He’s a hoot. He doesn’t do much actual work these days, and Ruby often gets him whatever he needs, even though, as Ron’s wife, she’s progressed to more important tasks. He always liked her when she was a lowly floater, and she doesn’t mind getting him his newspaper or Earl Gray tea or whatever he needs now and then. You haven’t met Ron yet. Nor many of the other partners. But whatever the case, you work for me, so none of that really matters. If you remember at least that much for the next week, you will do me well.”
He smiles.
Oh, this Garrett Mack is cheeky.
He and I might be a match made in dirty girl heaven, I think, again sans Tourette’s. I have to thank the universe for special favors. I contemplate how brilliantly and authoritatively he had said, “you work for me.”
Him and only him. And for that I’m very grateful.
He leans in with such fire and determination, I almost fall on top of him. But I manage to keep it together. I lower my voice and let a little of the sexy girl come out. I uncross my legs and cross them the other direction and then whisper in a raspy voice, “I am very clear on that, Garrett.”
Suppressing a pure animal attraction that is bubbling inside me for one gorgeous Garrett Mack, Esquire, is probably going to be the hardest part of this job. Just looking at his gorgeous face has my panties damp.
I gulp. Only this gulp isn’t to hold back tears, as most of my gulps have been lately. This gulp is because my heart is pounding as I fight away the pure sexual urge and raw magnetism that is happening between us. I’m not winning the fight either, not even close, and it’s only day one— hell, hour one.
But I’ll be victorious, I just know it. Because I hate to lose.