Page 10 of Hotline
"Someone who's here to save your sorry ass."
Not the words I was expecting to hear this morning.
She strikes a match and lights up a cigarette, balancing it between her ruby-red lips. She pulls it away and puffs out a thin stream of smoke. She crosses her arms over her chest and points to the mystery guy who's got my knees weak.
“What do you mean?” I say in her direction, only looking at the guy from the corner of my eye.
"This man right here wants to steal you away from me."
My brow furrows as I look between her and the guy.
His eyes lock on mine, and he takes a long stride in my direction, his stare withering.
He smells so good, like spicy orange and cedar, and an unmistakablemanlyscent. Something I’ve never experienced before. It makes me want to fall to my knees in front of him.
"We need the room," he says, his voice low and husky.
“Oh. Sorry,” I say, nodding sheepishly as I turn and start toward the door.
"No," the man says after me. “You’re not going anywhere.”
I turn back around, my heart pounding in my chest.
"You and I need the room,” he says to me. He looks over at my boss. “Please. I need to speak with her in private."
"Whatever you say," she says, sauntering to the door. Her gaze meets mine, and she rolls her eyes.
And with the soft click of the closing door, it’s just me and him.
Chapter Four
Opal
The hottest guyI’ve ever seen wants to speak with me.
Alone.
He perches on the edge of the desk. He's freaking huge. Knee bent, he gently kicks out the chair facing him, the legs going bump-bump-bump across the threadbare carpet. I go over and sit. I'm right in front of him, his huge hands knotted together between his knees, inches from my eyes. I look up at him, inch by glorious inch, my lips slightly open as I take him in.
“Can you please explain what’s going on here?” I squeak.
He lets out a long breath and adjusts the cuffs of his shirt.
“Tell me,” he says with a measured voice, "do you like working here, Ms. Harper?”
“Answer my question first,” I reply.
“I can’t do that.”
I shift in my seat.
“Why?”
“Because my answer depends on your answer,” he says.
Oh. Okay.
He looks at me, sizing me up, his deep, enchanting green eyes connecting with my verysoul.
