Page 11 of Dante
"If I knew you were going to be a model, I would have brought you flowers."
Playing into the spirit of things, she lifted one tapered brow as she swiftly and concisely detailed the meeting on her desktop.
"Are you implying that if I was plain, you would be bringing me weeds?"
His engaging grin flashed and charmed her even more.
"Makes me sound like a shallow bastard, doesn't it?"
"Makes you sound like a guy."
"I really like you Courtney Vernon. Why don't you persuade the boss to have you come and work with me?"
"Don't you have work to do?"
Icy golden eyes flashed between them, before settling on the man leaning on the glossy desk.
Instead of jumping to attention, Devon simply grinned at his boss. "I was here welcoming Courtney to Livingston Enterprise."
"Ms. Vernon," the stress on the name was not lost on any of them, "should be busy." His eyes bored holes in her. It took considerable effort on her part not to squirm. "I need the report..."
"On the board meeting? Already sent to your email. The file on the Latimer deal has been edited and is now on your desk."
She barely glanced at his schedule on the edge of her computer.
"You have a meeting in fifteen minutes and Mr. McIntosh has ten minutes of your time. Mr. Greene called, and I told him you were on for the luncheon that had been rescheduled twice already."
She met and held his gaze, which seemed to glower at her. Without saying a word, he strode towards his office and stood there at the door, shooting a gaze at Devon.
"Coming?"
When Devon winked at her, she had to bite down on the urge to laugh as he strolled behind his boss and closed the door.
Shaking her head, she pressed her hand to her jumping stomach and resumed typing.
"She's pretty efficient."
"Did you get her number?" he snapped it out and wished he could cut his tongue out for asking the question that made him sound like a jealous lover.
"I was working up to it. Think she's single? I'm not seeing a ring."
Devon took a step back at the look of icy displeasure on his friend's face.
"I did not mean to poach. I never realized you were interested."
"Have you ever known me to dip in the company's pool?" he had to take an effort to get his anger under control, somethingthat had never been a problem for him before. But seeing his friend lean so companionably on her desk, something he had done a hundred times before when Ms. Carstairs was the one sitting behind the desk, had unleashed something funny inside his chest.
"No." Devon cleared his throat and sat cautiously. "She's beautiful."
"Why don't we get to why you're here?" he made a point of glancing at his watch. "I'm busy."
"Of course." Devon nodded and opened his file.
He couldn't find any fault with her. In fact, he was becoming increasingly impressed with her efficiency and her professionalism. She knew what the hell she was doing and was completely cool under pressure. He also discovered that she was fluent in three languages. When she took a call from his manager in Italy, she spoke the language and had him looking through her file, where he saw that it was very impressive.
She had told him she anticipated his needs, and it was true. He did not have to ask her for a file or remind her about a meeting. She knew his lunch menu and had something waiting from the kitchen when he returned from an outside meeting.
She looked up from her filing as he strode in after yet another meeting. This one had pissed him off enough to rattle his usual cool. The red tape wrapped around the building of the apartment building was tangling at his neck. Politics, something he tried to stay away from, had reared its ugly head.
