Blindfolded Innocence. Alessandra Torre
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“Who is he?”
“Bob. He is a—”
“I know who he is. I meant who is he to you?”
Why does this man think he knows everything? “He is nothing to me.”
“Are you dating?”
“Is that any of your business?”
“It is if he’s visiting you at work.”
“Oh, please! Don’t even pull that card.”
“Are you dating?”
“No.”
He studied me, his eyes possessively roaming down my body and up again, and I felt myself flush. Thank God I dressed up. The magnetism he put out was ridiculous. This office was way too small for the two of us.
“Come to Vegas with me this weekend,” he said.
“What?”
“I’m going to Vegas this weekend. Why don’t you come?” It was more a directive than an invitation.
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.” He looked serious. And tempting.
I smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to pass.”
“Think it over. I’ll have you back safe and sound by Monday.”
“I appreciate the offer, but no.”
He raised his eyebrows and looked at me appraisingly. “No boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Think it over.” He gave me a ridiculously sexy parting smile, turned on one heel and sauntered out.
I sank down in my seat. This was way too much excitement for 8:08 a.m. I tried to focus on Broward’s first email, which was still open on my screen.
From: Kent Broward
Subject: ADMA/Bakers/Turner Development
Date: June 12 9:27:22 PM EST
To: Julia Campbell
Julia,
Attached is information for three new S corps. They need corporate documents created.
Two of these S corps—Adma LLC and Bakers Investments Properties will be JV partners on a development. Please prepare an initial draft of an operating agreement between the two. You can use the Henderstone Land JV OA as a template.
KB
I was both excited and dismayed. Excited that this seemed to be the first real legal work I had been given, dismayed that I didn’t have the experience or knowledge to complete it. Also dismayed because I had three other emails from Broward and I wasn’t sure what other nuggets of goodness those held.
The next two emails were tame by comparison, menial tasks that I would be able to quickly knock out. The last email was only two lines and gave me at least three new wrinkles.
From: Kent Broward
Subject: De Luca
Date: June 12, 2012 11:08:03 PM EST
To: Julia Campbell
Julia,
Sheila said that De Luca was speaking to you in the kitchen. Has he been bothering you? Please keep your distance.
Kent
I groaned silently. Note to self: Sheila is a rat. “Has he been bothering you?” Ummm, don’t know how to answer that. “Keep your distance”? Wow. I seem to be following that advice superbly. I marked the email as Unread and vowed to reply to him later.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I recruited/begged/bribed Beverly to help with my corporate documents, and stumbled through the operating agreement on my own. I was grinding through the legal research when I glanced at my phone and saw the time: 8:30 p.m. My stomach was growling loudly when salvation appeared at the door. De Luca stood in the doorway, pizza and a six-pack of soda in his hands. I tried not to smile but failed miserably. He beamed back at me.
“I’m not happy to see you—it’s the pizza,” I said, pushing back from my desk and rubbing my eyes.
“Come on. I already had Todd scope out the office. This whole wing has left for the night. Your dangerous secret will be safe. Let’s eat in the conference room.”
I stretched and stood up. I was barefoot, and considered putting on my heels, but then decided against it and padded after him. I yawned. “Where’s Todd?”
“I sent him home once he gave me the lay of the land.”
“Does he know you’re over here?”
“I don’t know or care. Todd is a smart guy. I’m sure he can figure it out.”
Great. Just what I need.
“I’ll eat with you because I’m starving and not finished with work, but this is the last time I’m going to have any type of interaction with you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Broward is already smelling something. He sent me an email about it today.”
“Ahh, yes. I got one of those also.”
“And?”
“And what? Do I seem the type to follow Broward’s directives?”
I shrugged in response. We had entered the West Wing conference room. The fluorescent lights were in the process of warming back up, so the light was still dim. I wrestled two of the Dr Peppers from the six-pack, placing them on the table. I put the other four cans in the minifridge and grabbed a roll of paper towels. Brad sat down and flipped open the pizza box, taking two slices and spinning the open box to me. I glanced in. Half pepperoni, half meat lover’s. I grabbed a slice of each and sat down, the two of us taking up one corner of the long table. There was silence for a moment as we dug in.
He spoke first. “So, this is the last time, huh?”
I nodded in response, my mouth full of pizza.
“You really think you’ll be able to stay away from me?”
“Oh, my lord!” I groaned and looked to the ceiling in mock exasperation. “Does your ego have no bounds? As I see it, you’ve been the one who can’t stay away.” I waved a pizza crust at him to emphasize my point.
“I take an interest in all of our interns. You are the future of our company.”
“Bullshit.