Page 3 of His Jewel

She shook her head, but he could see her cheeks flush a slight pink.

“Allow me to introduce my friend Josh Hall.”

“Josh,” she said, holding out her hand.

He took it. “Pleased to meet you.”

She gestured to the two leather seats in front of her desk, and they took them.

She pressed a button under her desk. “Drink?”

“Whiskey, neat, please,” he replied.

Drew opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. “I know what you like,” she said, proceeding to make the order.

“Yes, you do,” said Drew.

He shifted in his seat. He had the distinct feeling he was interrupting something.

The drinks arrived not a minute later. He took a few deep gulps. It was damn good whiskey.

Alana steepled her fingers. “So, Drew tells me you have a PA problem. I can fix that for you.”

“I’m sure you can, for a fee, I’m guessing?”

“Of course,” she said. “I have my business, you have yours. But there are many other perks that come with being a member of my club, but seeing as you’re here, I’m guessing you already know that.” She took a sip of her own drink. “I’ll offer you what I offer all my members. A month’s trial. See what you think. If you’re impressed, which I assure you, you will be, you can sign up for permanent membership. I will need a deposit, of course, and I’m afraid it’s non-refundable.” She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a contract. She pushed it toward him, her purple manicure clicking on the surface. “Look it over.”

So, he did. It all seemed pretty straightforward. A fee and, like she said, a month’s trial and if it wasn’t up to standard, he could leave, no questions asked. While she and Drew flirted, he signed his name to the contract. The instant his pen finished scratching, Alana stopped chatting and beamed, pushing a card toward him. Gold, Club Billionaire etched in black letters, alongside his name.

He raised a brow. “That confident I’d sign?” he asked.

“They always do.” She smiled.

He drained the last of his drink. “So, I’m guessing you’ll contact me when you find some suitable candidates?” he asked.

She waved a manicured hand. “Oh, I’ve already taken care of that.” She reached into her drawer and pulled out yet more papers. She sorted through them, her eyes scanning. “Here,” she said. “Your new PA.”

On the paper was a resumé. Ruby Lock. She was qualified. Very qualified. His eyes moved around the paper and then landed on the photo. Why wasn’t that the first thing he’d looked at? A woman, late twenties if he had to guess, was staring up at him through ice-blue eyes, with long, chestnut brown hair, full, red painted lips and high cheekbones. This woman could be a model.

He swallowed, raising his gaze, trying to stop it from falling back down on Ruby.

“One candidate? That’s all you’re providing for me. You’d think with the deposit I just agreed to pay, that you’d be handing over a folder full.”

She leveled a stare at him. Why did he feel like he was in the headmistress’s office and was about to get told off? Maybe that’s why Drew liked her. Sadomasochistic asshole.

“Because she’s been personally vetted by me. And she’s a friend. She’s perfect for the role and is everything you’re looking for.”

He could’ve sworn there was a twinkle in her eye as she said that.

“Well, I’ll let you know, Alana. I’ll have to interview her.” The prospect of seeing her in the flesh made his heart race, though he’d never admit it.

Alana looked a little disappointed. “Of course. Now, please do stay and enjoy a drink on us.”

They’d been dismissed.

“Always a pleasure, Alana,” Drew drawled.

They made their way back into the main lounge and joined a table of club members, roughly eight of them. Introductions were passed around like napkins, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not only was the card burning a hole in his jacket pocket, but also Ruby. He had to take a deep glug of whiskey to stop himself from pulling out her photo.

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