Page 10 of Triplet Babies for the CEO

It’s too…static, mundane.

Tasha’s got too much life in her, too much spark to be stuck answering phones all day. It would be a waste of her talents to have her slogging away pushing papers and making appointments.

She’s capable of more than that.

I lean back in my chair, considering her for a moment. “You’re applying for the receptionist position,” I say, watching her nod. “But I’m going to be honest, I think you’d be wasted there.”

Her brow furrows gently, and she looks a bit thrown off, but she doesn’t say anything. A flash of nervous energy ripples across her face, and I realize she thinks the worst.

But what I’m offering is better than a desk job.

“I need an assistant—someone who can keep up with my schedule, handle logistics and appointments, and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty because I don’t just sit behind a desk, like hardly ever. I’m out on job sites, working with the crew, making sure things are running smoothly. That’s part of the deal. If you take this job, you’re going to be out there with me, a lot.”

I half expect her to walk out right then. Being the assistant to the CEO is a lot different than being a receptionist. Waitressing and shadowing a construction CEO aren’t exactly in the same ballpark, either, and most people would rather stay in the air conditioning than stand around a construction site all day.

But, to my surprise, she doesn’t even flinch at the offer.

In fact, she seems downright gleeful.

“You mean, I’d get to see the projects up close?!” she asks, a little too enthusiastically. There’s a sincere note of curiosity in her voice.

It catches me off guard. She actually sounds interested.

Most women would rather talk about designer bags or celebrities…not construction equipment and architecture.

“Yeah,” I say, nodding, slightly confused. “You’d be right there, seeing how things come together from the ground up. It’s a lot of hard work, but…” I trail off, watching her expression.

Tasha’s practically glowing, like this is the best thing she’s heard all day.

Is this girl for real? Did someone put magic mushrooms in my coffee and I’m just hallucinating her right now?

“Okay,” she says, her voice firmer now, her head nodding. “I’m up for it.”

“Really?” I ask, shocked. Generally, I try not to let my face show surprise but this…this is downright amusing. I’m surprised at how ecstatic this girl in a too-tight skirt is about getting a pair of steel-toed boots on. “If you’re sure, the position as my assistant is yours.”

I reach out my hand tentatively.

Instead of running out the door, she takes it, her soft hand gripping mine with a touch that’s firm but warm.

The moment our hands touch, there’s this tiny spark, nothing dramatic, just a little jolt that makes my stomach tingle.

I tell myself it’s just the nerves everyone gets when they meet new people, but when she pulls her hand away, I can’t help but notice how my skin still tingles.

I also can’t help but notice the desire I feel to touch her again…

Snapping out of those thoughts, I get up and gesture for her to follow me. “Let me show you around the office. Come this way.”

As we walk, I’m very aware of her in that skirt. It’s so tight, and I’m not complaining, but it’s definitely not practical for the kind of work she’s signed up for.

When we stop in front of one of the conference rooms, I glance over at her. “Do you have some more practical clothes? You can’t be running around a job site in a skirt.”

“Yeah, I do. I just…this skirt was borrowed on short notice.” Her cheeks are flushed a rosy pink, and she looks down, obviously embarrassed.

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “I can tell,” I say.

She goes even redder, a deep burgundy coloring her high cheekbones.

I have to hide the smile I feel internally when I see her reaction to my words.

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