Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I can’t suppress the tiny shiver that tingles up my spine. We’re talking business, and there’s nothing in his words to suggest anything different. But his tone and expression seem to insinuate a decidedly unprofessional meaning.
And I have to wonder… did he hire me, buy me a new wardrobe, and bring me with him to meetings all under the guise of getting me into his bed?
Studying his face, I search for clues to dissuade my notion. I mean, surely not. He’s Declan freaking Blackwood. He could have any supermodel or movie star at the snap of his fingers. Wealthier than God, he’s also panty-dropping gorgeous. He wouldn’t have to go to such lengths to get laid.
Not that I’m willing to let him take me to bed.
Nope. Not at all. Not even if Jeff seems to think I’ll feel better about myself if I’d just go out and get some action.
“Declan,” a man calls from our left. With a subtle pressure, Declan shifts me toward whom I assume is Christopher McGale, waiting outside the doors of Restaurant Guy Savoy.
Smiling, Declan leads me over. After the men shake hands, Declan introduces me as his assistant.
Christopher McGale is the opposite of the man we lunched with. He’s young, probably in his mid-thirties, and incredibly attractive with auburn hair, hazel eyes, and a tall, muscular frame. Between him and Declan, I imagine every woman in the vicinity would kill to be in my place.
The hostess leads us into the dimly lit restaurant, ushering us into a private alcove with a table set for three. The men order scotch on the rocks while I settle on white wine. As soon as we place our orders, they launch into business.
As I suspected, Declan must be considering opening something other than the usual Blackwood hotel or resort, which are usually enormous. Once again focusing on the Cayman Islands, the men discuss size, occupancy, and amenities.
Incredibly bored when they delve into the intricacies of financing, I focus more on their body language, realizing Declan likes Christopher McGale more than he had our lunch companion. I’m not sure if it’s because they are closer in age or if, in my opinion, Mr. McGale seems more transparent and genuine, whereas Mr. Frost came across as a hustler. Regardless, Declan is more relaxed during this meeting.
And frankly… Mr. McGale is more likable. He doesn’t appear to be digging for inroads to exclusively benefit himself. Instead, I’d say he desires a give-and-take partnership based on their mutual strengths of what each brings to the table of the project they want to build together.
At the end of the evening, I’m still not entirely sure I’ve pieced together precisely what Declan wants to accomplish, but I do know a bit. Declan wants to branch out from the Blackwood business model to build something unique. He intends to do this outside of the Blackwood name, presumably to start up his own company, which is why he’s searching for investors.
And he seems to be extremely driven, as evidenced when he’d informed Mr. McGale he’d be making the decision on whom to invite into the joint venture by month’s end.
CHAPTER 7
Declan
There she is… I’ve looked forward to seeing her way too much. As I walk into my office, my new assistant, Bailey Robbins, waits at my door with her iPad in one arm and a cup of coffee for me in the other.
If I had thought that being around her would get a bit easier with time, I was wrong. I was also wrong in my belief that she would stop affecting me so strongly the more I was around her.
She’s been my assistant for a week. Yet, every day that passes only causes me to become more fascinated with her.
As an employee, she’s turned out to be one of the best hiring decisions I’ve ever made. As I’d suspected, not only does her intellect serve me well, but she also has a knack for figuring out tricky situations. More than that, she has enough confidence to be proactive in matters without needing my input. Until she started handling those details, I had no clue how much shit I was doing that should have been delegated. In that respect, she’s shone a spotlight on my shortcomings as a manager.
Every morning, we’ve established a routine of meeting at my office. She brings me coffee, along with a summary report covering overnight issues. Sometimes, she’ll even have suggestions on how to deal with a concern. Occasionally, she’ll handle problems without even involving me.
I’ve never had an assistant be so bloody fucking fantastic at assisting me.
So yes, I appreciate her more than I can say. I’m not about to lose her.
However, now that I’ve realized how capable she is and how effortlessly she operates within my world—the Blackwood world—it makes her infinitely more attractive for some reason.