9

“Nowhere in the office uniform manual does it say—have your hair tied up like a school mistress.” The two women giggle rather surprisingly, killing the whole aura of mature professionals.

“We work in a very high-profile business that requires a certain attention to image.” The heat in my cheeks rises with irritation, at the giggling, and the fuss over my hair.

“Emma, darling, do you realize how gorgeous those waves are? You’ve such a lovely color of hair, like pale autumn leaves.” Donna chirps over enthusiastically.

I lock eyes on her blankly, trying not to dredge up images of moldy sodden black and brown splodged leaves on the New York paving stones last fall. Ignoring how uncomfortable I am looking “softer”.

“She’s right, Emma. I think you look so much more natural and pretty like this. I think Jake agreed yesterday.” Margo says a twinkle in her eye. A hint of a mischievous smile lurking.

“Did he now?” I scowl, sarcasm light, meeting with amused looks. Ignoring the warm sensation deep in the pit of my stomach.

“Oh, I adore your pout … You’re adorable,” Donna gushes and I sigh, realizing arguing is a lost cause. Donna is grinning at me in a mother hen kind of a way and it’s the first time I notice the lines around her eyes, giving away a slight hint to her age. Margo is just encouraging it.

“Emma, I merely meant that you do seem a little severe and uptight when your hair’s back. I know that’s ironic, considering how I look, but you’re young and pretty. You’ve a natural beauty that you shouldn’t hide. It doesn’t make you look incapable.” She’s gushing all over me.

“I look like a child like this.” My temper is fraying, only too aware how young having my hair loose makes me look.

“Well, doing that, you do!” Margo yanks my hair from my fingers and I flush, realizing I have been tugging at a strand under the scrutiny of two overbearing women. Annoyed and slightly embarrassed at being caught unawares.

Crap … This is them … Anxiety! Making me feel pressured, putting me on a stand and fluffing around me, knocking me off kilter.

Taking my hair down is like undressing me.

“Yeah, just don’t do the hair twirling and lip pouting.” Donna nods in agreement, studying me with a finger on her chin.

“You’re a woman child … It’s surprising.” She laughs genuinely, but it only chafes my already frayed temper.

I don’t need the hair twirling pointed out, thanks very much. I know how bloody stupid it is!

Teen Emma scurries to hide from my glaring wrath inside the depth of my head.

“Oh, to be that young and beautiful again!” Donna sighs, but Margo throws her a shocked look exclaiming that she’s gorgeous and they go off on a tangent of how fabulous each other are. I find it tiresome. It’s like I’m in the twilight zone.

“Okay, I’ll start on your wardrobe darling. Margo has given me a list of the events you need to attend, and some work basics. I’ll be back by the end of the day.” She waves her hands in excitement.

“We shall trust your judgment, Donna,” Margo gushes and we watch as she sweeps out in a flurry of red chiffon and a clip clop of heels. The cyclone that is Donna Moore. The energy in the room calms and I almost sag with relief.

“Is this necessary?” I get off the stool, relieved at being released, feeling like a full-size Barbie doll.

“Yes, I’m afraid so … Jake’s image is important; the Carrero name envisions luxury and wealth. If you’re to attend events with him you need to represent the same image, my dear.” She smiles at me with a note of sympathy. “Jake knows asking his staff to spend thousands of their hard-earned pay on an image is ridiculous, so just enjoy the perk.” She tries to appease my doubts as I try to calm my internal bristle and urge to refuse.

“I don’t like other people choosing what I wear.” I like to be in control of every detail of my life. It’s how I function. How I keep calm.

“Hush now. Donna is the one who helped me discover my inner goddess and made me look like this.” She twirls like a teenage girl. She’s wearing a fitted black suit today, molded, knee-length skirt and low buttoned jacket over a silky, silver camisole top, and perched on high black stilettos. Her blonde hair is a flawless French twist. She looks amazing.

“Really?” I am slightly appeased. She’s the picture of sophistication and control that I aspire to achieve; maybe Donna won’t be so bad after all.

“Oh yes. I was hopeless with my style when I started here. Fifteen years on and here I am.” She beams at me.

“Fifteen years?” the shock is obvious in my tone. That would mean she worked here before Jake was even old enough to help run an empire. He would have been thirteen!

“Yes, I used to be Carrero senior’s assistant.” She’s now clearing up the papers left askew by Donna on my desk.

“What’s he like?” I’ve always been intrigued by the older man and meeting him last year quelled none of the interest. He seemed to be a force to be reckoned with. Terrifying and cold.

“Like someone you never want to willingly meet.” The deep familiar smooth voice is so unexpected and close, I jump and spin around to see Jake striding in the door casually. The flutters in my stomach come back full force, reminding me I’m still standing in the middle of the room and I move to my desk and sit down. Instant nerves returning.

He’s wearing designer jeans in a soft, washed-out color, a white T-shirt with a graffiti print logo that is slightly too neat on that body, a modern leather jacket, and his trademark shades. He doesn’t look like a guy who’s coming to the office for the day. I’m not sure I’m impressed, despite how much it suits him, bad boy biker style. It’s not exactly professional.

“Mr. Carrero … I mean—Jake … Good morning.” Controlled Emma is back in play, despite the hair tickling my face and the breathlessness at his appearance and attire.

“You look really nice today, Emma.” He smiles, allowing his gaze to travel over me from head to foot with a look of appreciation even behind shades. It makes me uncomfortable yet still my face flushes with telltale heat.

Traitorous body!

“And you, Margo.” He turns his head toward her and it almost seems like an afterthought, but she smiles.

“Don’t I always?” she smirks and throws him a wink.

“Of course.” He grins at her and lifts his shades to the top of his head to nestle in his hair. I try to ignore the slight flip low in my stomach, hate that I react to him this way and quash it, looking anywhere but at him.

He probably practices every sexy move and mannerism he has in the mirror a dozen times a night for ultimate appeal!

“What’s with the outfit?” she enquires, looking him up and down questioningly. “Even for you that’s rather casual for work.”

“All work and no play, makes for a very sad boy.” He grins back at her. Annoyingly confident in this attire.

“Touch of espionage today, Margo, Bambino.” His term makes me cringe.

Baby? Really? Is this a hint of Casanova Carrero peeking out?

I look down to my desk to hide the revulsion I know fleets across my face.

“Do you need me to come with you?” she looks him over intrigued and completely un-phased by his pet name.

“I actually need Emma, if she’s up to it?” he turns, throwing me one of the heart aching “Yes, I know I’m sexy” smiles, but I don’t react. I’ve seen this smile in action when I researched him, and it does little for me.

Liar.

“I’m up to whatever task you ask of me,” I respond drily.

Within reason!

The Lothario smile is making me uneasy.

“Intriguing.” Margo frowns at him, still trying to work out what he is up to. “Is this the Daniel Hunter meeting? I thought we scheduled it for next week?” They’re both standing at my desk, a little too closely for me to ignore, so I keep my eyes on the screen in front of me instead and try to appear busy. Opening today’s schedule.

“We decided to do it this morning … He’s free for a couple of days. Next week he’s flying to Paris.”

She nods, understanding what he’s talking about; I’m not yet privy to the inner office secrets between them, which happen frequently.

“My office, Emma, please.” He walks away, and I can only follow without question. I slide up and match his purposeful stride, even in heels. He waits until Margo and I’ve followed him in and closes the door behind us; she goes straight to his laptop pulling it across the table to access, leans over the desk pulling up files as he turns to me.

“Do you have anything less … PA … to wear here?”

I falter and my entire face warms as he looks at me with a smile. A raised brow in question.

What now?

“Emma, yes, dear. You’ll be accompanying Jake today, but you need to look like a date rather than an assistant.” Margo crosses to the printer to retrieve the files she’s printed off.

I pause and muster all my willpower to keep my lungs moving in and out. Suddenly compressed with weight and unable to breathe normally.

Again … What?

I don’t even know how to respond to that.

“You are going to be his number two today … everyone knows I’m his PA, whereas, you my dear, are new blood.” She smiles encouragingly, but it does nothing to my inner concerns. Panic raising its ugly head in the depths.

“We’re up to no good.” He smiles at me in a disarming way as I try to gauge his expression and hers, not convinced they’re being serious. Trying to remember how to inhale.

“No, I don’t have any other clothes here,” I answer quietly, the irritation rising within me.

“Maybe we can stop at your apartment and let you change?” Jake’s looking at me closely now and I frown in confusion. Hands cold yet somehow getting clammy.

Why would I?

“Change?” I say icily. My stomach dropping at speed.

“Yeah.” He stands and walks toward me, eyeing me up as though trying to picture me in less formal clothes. Pushes his hands into his jean’s pockets, which only further emphasizes his muscular body and lack of formality. It’s distracting.

“Something more casual.” He chews his bottom lip while thinking and staring, a lot of staring. I glance down at my tailored cream trousers and spiked heels. I look exactly as I should.

“What? Like jeans?” I try to control the edgy tone in my voice this time. Sarcasm oozing heavily.

“I was thinking more … feminine … a dress.” The humor in his voice grates on me, I thought I was done being Barbie already. This obviously is funny to him.

Why does my being in a dress amuse him? Am I that un-feminine?

“If that’s required, then yes. I have access to dresses.” Sarah has a closet full of them. The kind of romantic clothes I avoid like the plague.

“We’ll go there first then … I need this meeting to look more of a breakfast date between friends.” He straightens up, pulling his hands free and crosses them across his wide chest instead. Still glued to my figure and boldly looking me over.

“Am I to be enlightened on my role in this?” I ask stiffly. I didn’t think I would be subjected to dress up. I try and outstare him, but he ignores it.

“I’m meeting with Daniel Hunter … He’s a player in his family business.” He keeps his voice low, despite being closed in his own office. “I’ll not say why until we work out a few particulars but thanks to his very public break up, the media is all over his ass and he can’t shake them to meet in private.”

“You’re his fake date! Daniel will have a girl with him too, so it will appear as though four friends are having breakfast at the Waldorf.” Margo cuts in. “You’ll need to take notes and get acquainted with the particulars of the proposed merger, Emma; this is your first big responsibility. I’m taking a back seat on this.”

Crap.

I’m to do this while being stripped of all that makes me comfortable and confident.

“I see.” My insides turn icy cold and my face numbs.

“All you need to do is smile and look adoringly at me until we get into the suite where Daniel is staying.” Jake shrugs with one shoulder. He really sees no issue at all.

Yes, I’m sure that’s going to be easy.

“When are you leaving?” Margo presses, turning his hazy green eyes away from the scrutinizing he is doing over me.

“Now, if she needs to go home first … Where do you stay, Emma?” his eyes are back on mine, once again making me uneasy as he scans my attire.

I tell him where in West Sunnyside and he nods before moving off to call his driver. I hear him telling him to meet us at the rear of the underground parking garage as I try to pull myself back together.

“Take a notepad and pen in a handbag, anything else will look odd … It’s a preliminary meeting to thrash out the proposal, so take notes.” Margo soothes my nerves with a warm smile. Bringing my attention to her.

“Yes, Margo.” I answer blankly, head reeling with all of this and feeling overwhelmed suddenly.

“Emma?” She halts me with a gentle hand on my arm.

“Yes?” I pause at her sudden intense look.

“Try to relax around Jake … He’s actually very easy to hang out with.” She grins, but it does nothing to remove the tension building up inside of me.

I don’t want to hang out, I want to do my job.