Don’t speak. Don’t say anything stupid,I remind myself. I twist my fingers in front of me nervously as we ride to the top floor. The doors open, and I step out of the elevator and stop still.
What the hell?
White marble for as far as I can see, floor-to-ceiling glass, and luxurious white leather furnishings. “Hello, Sammia.” Lindsey smiles as I look around in awe. This place is insane.
A beautiful woman looks up from her computer at reception, and she smiles warmly. “Hello, Lindsey.”
“This is Emily. She’s new and started on level forty today.”
Sammia comes around and shakes my hand. “Lovely to meet you, Emily.”
“Is Mr. Miles taking visitors?” Lindsey asks.
“He is.” She smiles. “I’ll just announce you.”
Announce me . . . jeez.
Lindsey hunches her shoulders as if she’s nervous too.
Sammia picks up the phone. “Mr. Miles, we have a new staff member to meet you in reception.” She listens for a moment and smiles. “Yes, sir.” She puts the phone down. “Just go in.”
“This way, Emily.” Lindsey directs me across a huge boardroom, and my heels click on the marble. Why don’t Lindsey’s shoes click?
Okay, buy rubber-soled shoes tomorrow.
We get to the end of the huge room and down another corridor, and my heels are clicking like I don’t know what. They’re even annoying me. I sound like a horse. I feel like taking them off and throwing them in the trash. Just be quiet. I’m trying to appear professional here.
We get to a set of black double doors, and Lindsey knocks as my heart pounds in my chest.
Just . . . don’t say anything stupid.
“Come in,” a deep voice calls.
Lindsey opens the doors, and I step into the office.
Familiar blue eyes rise to meet mine from behind the large mahogany desk, and I stop dead still.
What?
“Emily Foster, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Miles,” Lindsey says.
I stare at him, unable to speak because there’s no air in my lungs.
His eyebrow rises, and he sits back in his chair as he smirks. “Hello, Emily.” His big eyes hold mine, the same beautiful deep-blue eyes that hypnotized me twelve months ago.
It’s him.
Chapter 3
Oh my God.
He stands and walks around to my side of the desk and holds his hand out to shake mine. “Jameson Miles.”
It’s him, the layover guy who never asked for my number. I stare at him as my brain completely misfires.
I can’t believe this. He’s the fucking CEO?
“Emily, tell Mr. Miles all about yourself,” Lindsey says, as if to prompt me to speak.
“Oh.” I catch myself and shake his hand. “I’m Emily Foster.”