The Billionaire's Seduction Page 12

  Making my decision, I say to the group. “I see all of your points and agree.” I look at Laura and say, “Please draw up a contract with a ninety-day probationary period along with a detailed job description outlining her role as social media manager, making sure it’s clear she will also be responsible for assisting with editorial as needed. I’ll personally contact Ms. Nash and make her an offer.”

  “You will?” Laura looked at for clarification. “Normally—”

  “Yes, me,” I interrupt her and she clamps her mouth shut. “I have a few matters I’d like to clear up with Ms. Nash first.”

  Chapter 5

  Anna

  After my disaster of an interview, I hurry home and set about drowning my sorrows in an exquisite bottle of Pinot and a long indulgent bubble bath. Adam Gerome’s sculpted features keep interrupting my sulking and it’s really beginning to piss me off. I top up my glass of wine and try to push him to my mind’s equivalent of the Sahara Dessert.

  After mentally replaying the tape a dozen times, I remain convinced that I totally blew the interview and that come Friday, I would get the “sorry, but we’ve selected another candidate” speech and have to pound the pavement all over again.

  My bath has turned a tepid lukewarm and I start contemplating getting out when my phone starts buzzing from the counter, making the decision for me. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to bring myself to fully cut the electronic leash. I had carried the phone into the bathroom with me on autopilot, and set it to serenade me in a collection of melancholy nineties hits that seemed appropriate as I soaked and played the events from the disaster interview in my mind on repeat.

  I stand up and lean over the edge of the tub to grasp the phone, praying it won’t slip from my hand and join me in my sea salt stew. I don’t immediately recognize the number, but it was definitely local.

  “Hello?” I answer, squeezing the phone against my shoulder as I used my hands to wrap myself in a fluffy towel.

  “Is this Anna Nash?” A deep, masculine voice replies.

  I can’t place the voice or conjure up a face. “Yes. Anna speaking.”

  “Hello Ms. Nash, this is Adam Gerome.”

  My heart rate skyrockets at the introduction and I am suddenly struck mute as I stand there, dripping wet in my terrycloth, thinking about the man I had met hours earlier that had likely single handedly sunk my interview with Trendsetter magazine.

  “I hope it’s not too late to call, Ms. Nash,” he inquires.

  “No, no. It’s fine. How can I help you?” I skate across the marble floor and step into my bedroom. Something tells me this is not a conversation I will want to remember taking place in the middle of my bathroom.

  “Excellent. Well, as you know, we interviewed a lot of potential candidates for the position you interviewed for,” he continues.

  Oh, shit. The “thanks, but no thanks” call I had been expecting, is coming three days ahead of schedule. I press my eyes closed, waiting for the blow.

  “I am calling to notify you that you were selected by the panel.” He says it so flatly, that it takes me a moment to process his words. He sounds more like he is reading a particularly bland section of the Times, not offering someone the job of their dreams.

  My eyes popped open again. “You’re offering me the job?” I ask, wanting to make sure I’m not missing anything.

  He pauses. “I’m offering you a job, Ms. Nash.”

  “You can call me Anna,” I interject.

  “Right. Anna. There are some changes to the job description that you will need to be aware of before accepting.”

  My ear perk at his announcement, but then I brush it away. I hardly doubt that there would be anything that would make me turn the job down. I had been dreaming of this opportunity since the day I started my first journalism class at Columbia. Besides—if I had access to that chic closet Kelly had shown me, I would be willing to polish floors with a toothbrush.

  Adam continues, and I pry my mind away from the shelves and shelves of couture spinning in my mind. “Would you be able to come to the office tomorrow morning at seven? That way, we can cover all the nitty gritty stuff and if you accept, you can join the others in time for the morning staff meeting.”

  My night owl habits from university are still deeply ingrained, and the idea of getting up earlier than nine seriously makes me pause, but I shrug it off. I will just have to reprogram.

  Quickly.

  I nod, nearly dropping the phone as it still sat between my neck and shoulder. “Yes, that sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Mr. Gerome,” I say, trying to keep some sense of coolness to my tone, although it is hard to do given the circumstances. “I’ll be there at seven sharp.”

  “Looking forward to it,” Adam replies.

  We end the call and I do a quick happy dance before racing to my closet and ravaging my clothing options, assessing each piece with the fresh eyes of a soon-to-be Trendsetter employee.

  * * *

  I am pleasantly surprised to find Kelly at the reception area to meet me when I step into the chic Trendsetter office the next morning at six forty-five. It had taken what seemed like a gallon of coffee and a very cold shower to get my ass in gear, but the extra early wakeup call turned out to be worth it as I caught more than a few heads turning as I entered the lobby and sashayed my way across the parquet floors.

  “Good morning, Anna,” Kelly greets me with a warm smile.

  “Morning!” We exchange an over-the-shoulder air kiss like we’re old friends, and then Kelly directs me to follow her lead.

  She takes me up one floor and gives me a brief tour of the office space. With each new space, she provides a brief rundown of how things work at Trendsetter and her informative tour helps to settle my nerves and enables me to start to picture myself as another addition to the team.

  However, all of her soothing words seem to fly right out of me, when she deposits me in front of Adam’s office door at seven on the dot.

  “Good luck,” she says, giving my upper arm a quick, reassuring pat before turning and disappearing.

  I watch her walk away and then raise my hand, stilling for just a fraction of a second before knocking on the solid door. I wait for a few moments, look both ways down the hall in a silent plea for help. I try knocking again but there is still no answer.

  In Kelly’s tour, she had shown me most of the office, however, she had left out the location of her own office. I didn’t know anyone else to turn to, and it didn’t seem that anyone was going to come to my rescue this time.

  “He’s not here yet.”

  I turn and see a small, gray haired woman in an impeccable suit wandering towards me. “I’m sorry?”

  “You’re here to see Adam, right?”

  I nod. “He told me to be here at seven.”

  I don’t have to check my platinum watch to know it’s well past.

  The woman tuts under her breath. “Well, you’ll probably be waiting awhile. I suggest you get comfortable.” She nods her head towards an alcove that has two plush-looking suede chairs. They’re the kind that seem to never get used and are there strictly to fill an empty space.

  Before I can ask her name, she’s gone. I sigh and make myself as comfortable as possible in the stiff chair on the right.

  Nearly half an hour passes before Adam makes his appearance. I spot his large frame as he walks down the hall. He is easily a head taller than everyone else, so it’s not too hard to pull him out of a crowd. That, and the fact that he seems to have his own atmosphere or something. Somehow, without a word, everyone makes a path for him and are far more aware of his presence than he is to any of theirs.

  He looks up as he nears his office and I stand to get into his line of sight. I know I shouldn’t pout or throw a fit, but his tardiness feels intentional, like some kind of snub. I knew from his reaction to me at the interview that he wasn’t a fan, but he was the one who had called and offered me the job. Surely he could have passed that off to some HR assistant.


  “Good morning, Mr. Gerome,” I say sweetly as he nears.

  He grunts in response and it becomes a whole lot harder to keep my peaches and cream approach going. He opens his office door and holds it open, ushering me in without so much as a response to my greeting.

  “You did say seven?” I ask as he closes the door behind us.

  “I’m not much of a morning’s person,” he grumbles as he sinks into the seat behind his large black desk.

  Neither am I, asshat. Yet, I was here on time.

  I watch him recline in his leather chair, half expecting him to kick his feet up on the desk.

  “I kind of figured morning person was a prerequisite of the whole CEO thing,” I say casually.

  For the first time, he looks up at me and I am instantly silenced. His blue eyes are steely this morning, although they have lost the sharp, focused edge they had yesterday during the panel interview.

  “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” he fires back. “Understood?”

  I nod tersely at his words.

  “Now, to get to the reason I asked you in here at this ungodly hour.” He pauses and roots through some paperwork on his desk. “This is the contract that I’ve had Laura in HR draw up for you.”

  He passes the paperwork to me and our eyes lock for a moment before I drop my gaze and start studying the crisp pages in my hands. Everything seems standard. There’s a ninety-day probation period, salary, typical hours of work, standard vacation and sick time allowances, and a fair insurance program to opt into. I’m surprised by how straightforward it is. After Adam’s comments on the phone, it seemed as though there might be some big “if” or “but” attached to the deal.

  “Well?” He asks after I set the pages on the desk in front of me.

  “It all looks in order.”

  “Good. The panel was impressed with your youthful energy and social media savvy, so that is primarily what you will be in charge of. You will work closely with Kelly and her team. They are the ones who put the magazine together each month. Along the way, you will attend all the fashion events we cover, meet with designers, network, and along the way you will tweet, hashtag, and blog Trendsetter out to the twenty-something year-old masses that we need to connect with.”

  My heart sank a little at the new twist on the job description. I had applied for a more editorial job. Adam was right, I was a bit of a social media addict, but that was for fun. It wasn’t what I pictured myself doing fifty hours a week. From what he was saying though, it sounded like I would get all the same networking and backstage access that I would as an actual editor, so there was something to smile about. My social media presence would actually be like putting out my own digital version of Trendsetter magazine, and that sounded pretty fucking amazing.

  “Any questions?” Adam asks, arching a brow at me and steepling his hands together.

  I couldn’t ignore the nagging voice in the back of my mind. “You said that the panel was impressed with me. Does that mean that you had another point of view on the interview?”

  “I have some reservations,” Adam answers.

  “May I ask what they are?”

  He shoots his eyebrows higher. “I think you’re too young, too inexperienced, and too mouthy. It was a majority vote however, and you won. Congratulations.”

  His joyless face cancels out the well wishes his full lips just delivered.

  Too young, inexperienced, and did he say, mouthy?

  “If that’s too honest for you, I would suggest applying with a different magazine. I am here to make things happen and I will only take on staff that will jump on board with my plans.” Adam’s eyes narrow slightly as he stares me down, seeing if I will pass or fail his test. “I don’t have time to candy coat things.”

  “No, no,” I say, forcing myself to bite back another snappy remark. I don’t know where all the sharpness is coming from. I’ve never been a particularly hostile or contemptuous person. Something about Adam just brings it out in me. For the time being, I need to reign it in if I want to land the job. “I do want this position, believe me. I’m on board.”

  He pauses for a moment, and I’m terrified that he will pull his offer off the table, but then he extends his hand to me. “Great, Anna. Welcome to Trendsetter.”

  I take his hand and he flashes me a smile that thrills me but in the “oh shit, what did I just do,” kind of way. I wish that handshake didn’t send a wave of electricity up my spine or leave me tingling like that.

  Chapter 6

  Adam

  Although Anna shook my hand, the look on her face told me that she would much rather be backhanding me across the face. The woman is seething, and I have never been more turned on. She’s a firecracker wrapped in a slinky black pantsuit that hugs her every curve in a fit that would make most models jealous. I can only imagine where her impeccable fashion sense leads her when it comes to undergarments. The idea of seeing her in a garter belt, lace-cuffed thigh highs, and jet black panties has me locked and loaded.

  That is just the first image off the top of my head. With the proper time, and space, it’s safe to bet my mind will take me down far more interesting paths.

  “Mr. Gerome?”

  I suspend the cascade of mental images and force my attention back on the gleaming blue-green eyes that are staring at me. “You can call me Adam,” I say.

  “Okay…Adam. What do you want me to do first?”

  Oh, God, how I would love to make her say that sentence under completely different circumstances, I think to myself before snapping out of it.

  “I could take you on a tour of the office,” I propose.

  “Kelly has already showed me around this morning,” she replies, and although she doesn’t say it directly, I know she’s internally filling in that it was during the time when I was supposed to be there to meet her.

  Right.

  This is exactly why I don’t mess around with complicated women. They always seem to have unspoken expectations, and keep a running tally of all the times you fail to meet those expectations.

  “I have an office set aside for your use. I’ll call Kelly and have her take you down,” I say, suddenly ready to get her the hell out of my office.

  Anna nods. “Great.”

  I make a big production out of calling Kelly and instructing her to come to my office. After I hang up the phone, Anna and I stared at each other blankly.

  “This is a nice space,” she compliments, although, I have a feeling she just wants to break the tense silence between us.

  “I suppose you’re right,” I reply with a shrug.

  I look around the room. I guess it’s impressive enough. It was decorated by my predecessor, and from decor alone, I knew we were not cut from the same cloth. Reginald something or other. I think he still plays golf with my father. Although, perhaps that had changed. I suspect that his retirement and my father’s challenge to me did not come at the same time without some pretty serious planning. Reginald had spent twenty years with Trendsetter, and I was fairly certain he wouldn’t have been willing to abandon it by choice if he had known my father was planning to put me in charge.

  I had been at Trendsetter for about a week and it was turning out to be a cake walk so far. The next 358 days should be no problem. It seemed to all be a matter of proper delegation, and delegation is something I happen to be very good at. After all, at home I delegated laundry, cleaning, cooking, car maintenance, home repairs. Anything that needs to be done, that I don’t want to do can easily be outsourced in the blink of an eye if one has enough money—which I happen to have, at least for now.

  I shift my gaze back to watch Anna as she continues to visually inspect my office space. Is she nervous about being alone with me? Her body language seems tight, coiled, shut off. I don’t know why though. I haven’t done anything inappropriate, not yet.

  I seem to take notice of her full and plump lips again, and already I can picture them wrapped around my cock. Her cheekbones are h
igh and leave a delicious hollow on her cheeks. I can only imagine how they would look when they’re suctioning my member. Except I don’t like her attitude, so dealing with her in an extracurricular capacity would probably be a fucking pain—no pun intended.

  Damn it, Adam. Get your mind out of her pants suit. This woman is off limits. Do not pass GO, do not collect two hundred dollars.

  “Is everything all right?” Anna asks, staring at me with concern in her nymph-like eyes.

  “Yeah, I’m fantastic,” I reply, leaving out the part about the raging hard-on I’m sporting under the table. “Kelly should be here soon. Formally, Edward is the Director, but Kelly will be in charge of training you and showing you around. She’s one of our oldest—I mean, longest tenured employees here at Trendsetter.”

  Anna nods. “She seems really nice.”

  I’m not usually accustomed to grading people based on personality, but sure, Kelly is nice. In my world, I tend to sort people based on how much I thought that they were trying to use me for my family name or my upcoming fortune. Most people I interact with either fear or respect me based on the fact that I’m a Gerome. The rest are too busy trying to find a way that my alleged power, wealth and influence can help them.

  Where is Kelly? I wonder to myself, staring at the door.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Anna asks, breaking into my thoughts. “I mean, apart from being too young, just out of college, and mouthy? What specifically did I do to offend you?”

  She shocks me again with her brazen comment. She won’t let it go, I see. I know that I’m new to the whole work thing, but damn, it isn’t normal to be so forward with your employer. Then again, I had already told her that she wasn’t my first choice. A smart girl like her probably assumes I am not actually the one calling the shots.