Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Today, he’s wearing a gray suit, and I have to admit, he looks hot as hell.
Emphasis on hell.
Smiling the most professional smile I can muster, I say, “Morning, Mr. Vitale.”
His eyes sweep over my pantsuit and heels before settling on the wireless earpiece, then he mutters, “Morning.”
I wait for him to disappear into his office before taking a seat at my desk. Not even a minute has passed when the emails start coming through.
I’m almost done with all the emails when a new one pops up with a request to print the latest report from the sales department.
I carry out the request and smile from ear to ear when I gather the papers from the printer. Just as I step away from the machine, a call comes through, and I quickly tap the button on the earpiece, “Samantha speaking, how can I help you?”
“Print the report I just emailed,” Mr. Vitale’s voice rumbles over the line.
I walk to his office, and not bothering knocking, I push the door open. “Here’s the report, sir.”
His eyes widen slightly with surprise as I place the document on his desk.
Feeling triumphant, I turn around and walk back to my desk.
With a smile on my face, I work until twelve, then dial Mr. Vitale’s extension.
“What?” he barks over the line.
“Can I order you something for lunch, sir?”
There’s a moment’s silence before he says, “Anything but fish.”
The line goes dead, and I scrunch my nose while I wonder what to get him to eat.
Something that’s not messy and easy to eat.
I check the menus of nearby restaurants and decide to get fried chicken and bacon sandwiches.
After I place the order, I continue compiling a performance report from all the information the department heads sent me.
By the time our food arrives, I’ve already completed the detailed performance report and send it in an email to Mr. Vitale. I pay the delivery guy, then walk to the kitchenette so I can place the sandwich on a plate and add a bottle of chilled water to the tray. Feeling quite happy with myself, I head to Mr. Vitale’s office.
When I enter the chamber of wrath, Mr. Vitale’s head snaps up, and his eyes narrow on me.
I place the tray on the corner of the desk and smile at the insufferable man. “Enjoy your lunch, sir.”
His eyes narrow even more, and tilting his head, he says, “Explain to me why it took you two weeks to deliver this standard of work.”
Asshole.
Keeping the smile plastered on my face, I answer, “I just needed time to get into the routine.”
His gaze flicks to the report, then he mutters, “I see you took the initiative to consolidate all the departments.”
“I thought it would be easier for you, sir.”
The man only nods before getting back to work.
“I just want to let you know I have an appointment tonight, so I’ll only be able to work until six,” I advise him.
Without looking up, he makes the sound I’m quickly learning to hate.
“Hm.”
I suppress the urge to let out a sigh as I turn around and head back to my desk.
Taking a bite of my sandwich, I continue with my duties because I’m adamant to stay one step ahead of Mr. Vitale. Also, I have to leave work at six because I have my first appointment at Paradiso tonight. I’m both nervous and excited.
I really hope everything goes well tonight. I’d hate to have paid the membership fee only to be disappointed.
Chapter 4
Samantha
With my first appointment at Paradiso scheduled for seven thirty, I take my time showering and getting ready.
The apprehensive part of me thinks I’m insane for joining the club. People go there to have wild sex, and here I am, just wanting to talk to a man.
Maybe I should cancel.
Checking my reflection in the mirror, I take in the black dress I’m wearing and wonder whether it’s too formal. Then again, I don’t think jeans would be appropriate.
“You look fine,” I whisper before turning away from the mirror.
Just as I gather my keys from the side table near the front door, my phone starts to ring. I answer the call and position the device between my shoulder and ear before opening the front door.
“Samantha speaking.”
“Hey, sweetie. It’s Mom.”
“Oh hey,” I say, my tone a little lighter. “How are you?”
“Good. I’m calling to let you know I won the knitting contest. Your mother is a whole two-hundred-and-fifty dollars richer.”
A grin spreads over my face while I lock the door, and as I head out of my apartment building, I chuckle, “Wow, I’m so proud of you. What did you knit?”
“Nothing. We just knitted to see who’s the fastest.” From the chopping sounds, I assume Mom’s busy preparing dinner. “How are things in New York?”
“I can’t complain. Work has been super busy since I got the promotion.”