Page 3 of Consumed By You
This guy sounds intimidating as hell. “I can do that.”
Ten thousand dollars a month.
That’s an obscene amount of money. I can’t even believe this. It’s so surreal. I got this job too easily. I’m definitely going to have to thank Adam for landing me this godsend.
“Good, well, you can sign here, and then I’ll take you around to meet some of the staff.” She picks up her pen and hands it to me. It’s heavy in my hand, but I don’t know if it’s the pen or just the weight of this momentous occasion.
This is where everything begins for me.
A new life.
A better life…
***
“Jack, this is Darcy Fontaine. Darcy, this is Jack Upton. He is VP of Scott Industries.”
I reach out to take his hand energetically. He’s an older gentleman, late fifties, but handsome for his age. He has a kind smile and it calms the rush of butterflies in my stomach for a moment.
“Miss Fontaine, it’s lovely to finally meet you. Doris had nothing but nice things to say at our meeting this morning.”
I blush scarlet. “That was sweet of her. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Upton.”
“Firm handshake, I like that.” He lowers back down into his stiff chair. “Welcome to the company.”
“Thank you.” I follow Doris out of his gigantic state-of-the-art office. I can only imagine what the big boss’s office looks like.
“This is Mr. Scott’s office.” She halts outside of glass double doors. “As you can see, your office is right next door. You met Kate down the hall. She is the main receptionist and will let you know when a client is here to see Mr. Scott. Ready?”
Quite unsettled, I nod, knowing I’m unable to conceal just how frightened I am because her expression transforms into one of hilarity.
“I promise, he’s not as bad as you’re thinking.”
Chuckling, she raps against one of the glass doors.
Keep breathing. Keep breathing.
“Yes,” a dark rasp answers. She swings the door open.
I step into an office that resembles a small apartment rather than a workspace. I’m utterly intimidated by the sheer size of it. Holy shit. My confounded pupils flicker to the radiance entering through the windows. The Empire State Building is standing tall and erect, the bright sunlight making the room’s white interior look impressively clean.
There is a long modern conference table at one length of the room, a sitting area opposite it. The artwork hung on the walls is confusing yet completely fascinating at the same time. I know without asking that they are worth a fortune.
I’m busy gawking at the splendor around me, positive I cannot feel more disbelief. I’m immediately proved wrong when I take a gander at my new boss. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever beheld is staring directly at me from the desk in the dead center of the room. My weakening jaw drops to the floor, a jolt of electricity melting my insides.
His luxurious jet-black hair hangs down, caressing wide-set shoulders. It’s perfectly done, although I have the strangest feeling he doesn’t have to do anything to it to make it look that way. His tailored Italian suit rests tight on his torso, clearly made to conform to his unnaturally large body. I drool over the way I can find the lines of his muscles in his arms through the sleeves. His face is perfectly sculpted; the curve of his nose sloped delicately, his pink lips so full, shaped in perfect symmetry. I imagine what it must feel like to touch them.
But the most intriguing, utterly entrancing features that take me down for the count are the piercing green eyes directed my way. I could honestly get lost in them.
Shit! I’m lost in them, and now he’s staring at me like I’m a freak.
“Who’s this?” He regards me, appraising my five-foot-ten-inch figure from head to heel as I remain tittering by the entranceway, unable to move.
“Benjamin, this is Darcy Fontaine. She is the young woman I’ve hired to take over my position.”
He rises from his leather throne, the usually intimidating city behind him paling in comparison as he strides up to me, projecting an unhealthy amount of confidence.
I marvel at his height the closer he gets, as I am forced to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. He buttons his suit jacket that probably costs thousands and thousands of dollars with a proud conviction, owning his grandeur.
