Page 4 of Serving the CEO

Dropping down on my bed, I flung my arm over my eyes and sighed. I wracked my brain for ideas, but short of winning the lottery, there wasn’t a damn thing I could think of to help them.

* * *

“Are you going to bring an offer for the book?”

Jami Griffin, my roommate and best friend, eyed me from across the narrow aisle separating us, the subway car rocking back and forth as we hurtled to the next stop on our way to work.

“Yes.” My heart fluttered just thinking about it. It would be my first signing for Broker Publishing. “I spoke to the author Friday, and it went really, and I meanreallywell. She has great charisma, and you can tell she’s passionate about her work.”

“You sure the big wigs are okay with that? It’s very different from what Broker Publishing usually releases,” Jami said with a half-smile.

“True. But that’s kind of why they hired me. If they want a division of self-help books devoted towomen, they need a woman…and the feminine perspective.” I grinned at her. “You can’t see Derrick Thomas handling those books, can you?”

Her eyes widened, long lashes framing the pretty hazel. “I try not to think about him, thanks.”

“Yeah, I get that.” I sipped my coffee from the to-go cup and sighed as I thought about the man who owed the company I worked for. “He’s…intimidating.”

“Yes. Gorgeous, but scary as hell.”

I frowned and realized my friend had summed him up perfectly. I hadn’t considered Derrick’s looks much, although there was no denying he was attractive. He had a way of staring at you like he could see right through you, which threw me off balance. Since I didn’t need to be around him much, I made surenotto be. He had a coldness that made being near him awkward.

“You’re right,” I said, looking out the window. “Gorgeous, but scary as hell. What a waste.”

A few moments of silence passed, and I looked over to see Jami nibbling on her thumbnail, a habit she’d mostly broken.

“What are you worrying about?”

She grimaced. “I just want the day to be over with.”

“Why?” I grinned. “Other than it’s Monday.”

“I screwed up with a manuscript and sent it down the line—I realized the mistake when I was checking on something Saturday, and I tried to pull the plug, but it was already in the next stages.” She was pale, eyes darkening as she looked out the window.

“Mistakes happen.” I nudged her foot with mine. “We all make them—and youcaughtit, right?”

She smiled back. “Yeah, sure.”

She didn't seem convinced, however.

I nudged her toe again. “You caught the mistake. Worse things have happened. It will be okay.” Leaning forward, I said, “Now, stop biting your nails. Tell you what…stop worrying, and we can hit happy hour on the way home. My treat.”

“You really know how to cheer me up. Margaritas?”

“What else?” I asked loftily.

She grinned at me. “You’re like the best friend ever—the queen of best friends.”

“Damn straight.” Happy to see the strain easing from her eyes, I leaned back in my seat and studied her strappy black heels dotted with little hand-painted daisies, then looked at the boring, sensible shoes I’d bought two years ago. “I wish my feet were the same size as yours so we could share. Those heels are adorable.”

“You say that about all my shoes.” She flexed her ankle and smiled at the cute heels. “But these are pretty awesome, aren’t they?”

We spent the rest of the ride talking about shoes and debating the best place to hit for margaritas. As we headed into our building, we were laughing, but Jami paled as Mr. Thomas’s administrative assistant handed her a note the second we stepped off the elevator.

“Ms. Griffin, Mr. Thomas is waiting to speak to you. He says you need to report to his office immediately.”

Jami’s gaze shot to mine as she accepted the folded note from Lola. With a stiff smile, she nodded. “Of course.”

Her face had turned a pasty sort of gray, and I thought she might be sick.

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