Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Blaze asks. "And stop speaking in riddles."
"I was speaking in idioms."
"Don't do that either," he mutters, leaning back in his executive chair with his arms crossed. He pins me with a hard stare. "Some of us actually have work to do."
"I work," I protest, smirking at him from the opposite side of his desk. He loves to give me shit about not doing anything around here, and I love to pretend I don't do shit around here, but we both know this place would fall the fuck apart without me.
Blaze isn't good with people. He handles the business shit. I keep our people happy and schmooze with the best of them. I know every employee by name. I know who is in the building and who is taking time off. I know who works better under pressure and who needs stress kept to a minimum. Every deal we've signed, I've helped cultivate.
"Work more, annoy me less," he grumbles.
"Uh, fuck no. It's the holiday season." I plant my foot on the edge of his desk, earning a dirty glare from him. "The only hard work I'm doing is making sure the Christmas party is handled, and you aren't working everyone to death on this fucking campaign."
"I'm not working them to death."
He's not. Blaze may not be good with people, but he's a hell of a boss. Everyone is happy here. Everyone loves him. Designers and hopefuls flock to fill open positions on the rare occasion someone leaves. But it's my God-given right to keep him humble.
"Why are you even in my office?" he asks, going right back to the original subject.
"I told you that we have a problem."
"Absolutely none of the shit you said had the words 'we have a problem' in it," he says.
"Actually, I don't think it is a problem. It's more of a mystery."
"Is your mystery going to cause me problems?" Blaze asks, his dark eyes narrowed.
"Doubtful." Possibly. But what Blaze doesn't know won't hurt him. I'll fill him in on the important shit later. Preferably after he's happily coupled up with Georgia Dillard and in a better mood.
"Is anyone fucking with any of our designers?"
"No."
"Then it sounds like a you problem, Alaric. I've got enough shit to deal with right now."
"Fine," I say, trying not to give away the fact that he just gave me exactly what I came here wanting. "But the new intern, Jillian, is the mayor's daughter. You have to play nice."
"Shit," he mutters, his face falling. He doesn't like the mayor either. "When does she start?"
"She started this morning."
"Does she have any experience?"
"Nope." I climb to my feet. "So no scaring her off."
"What does she have to do with your mystery?"
"Don't know yet."
Blaze sighs and then shakes his head. "You know what? If it keeps you out of my office, I don't even care. Go Scooby Doo the shit out of it."
Chapter Three
December
"Um, hi, Ms. Goines," I say to Ruby Goines, stumbling off the elevator into Alaric Parrish's posh outer office. Like the rest of the building, elegant red and black Christmas decorations adorn the space, with a gorgeous, matching tree set up near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Los Angeles. "I got a message that Mr. Parrish wanted to see me."
"Call me Ruby, dear," Ms. Goines— I mean, Ruby—says with a kind smile that crinkles her eyes at the corners. "He's waiting for you in his office. And don't mind him if he's crabby. He's harmless. He's just been out of sorts all morning."
"Oh." I glance at the heavy oak door she points at and then hesitate. "Um, why?"
"Who knows with him? The man is a menace."
"Oh."
She must see something on my face because she laughs quietly. "He's harmless, dear. He's just a pain in my behind. He's always up to something, and I never know what until Blaze is in a tizzy because Alaric is driving him crazy. Honestly, the man spends more time finding ways to annoy his brother than he does working."
I bring my fingers to my lips to hide a smile. She talks about them like they're little boys instead of grown men in charge of a multi-billion-dollar company. It's cute.
"Go on in. He's waiting for you."
Crap.
My smile fades as another wave of anxiety races through me. I've thought about nothing but this moment since yesterday, and I still have no idea how to handle it. Honestly, I expected to be found out before I ever made it through the doors this morning. But no one sounded the alarm. So far, they all believe I'm my sister.
Will Alaric? If he already suspects me, I'm screwed.
"Thank you." I give Ruby a tight smile and scurry toward Alaric's door, my kitten heels tapping against the porcelain tile.
"Enter," he growls, his deep voice muffled.
I inhale a breath and push open the door. Like the anterior office, his inner sanctum is lavishly appointed, with a wall of windows overlooking the city below. He's standing beside his desk, six foot four in a thousand-dollar suit. Every inch of him is dark, from his hair to his eyes to the black fabric encasing his brawny body.