Page 13 of His Secret Virgin
Chapter 6
Emma
The new job offer was great news for Dad, but it wasn’t all that great for me. His friend had come through for him big time. Dad landed the job as the manager of Chinese produce, a new division that Mr. Taylor had just started.
Along with the new job came a house that bordered on being a mansion compared to the house I grew up in. Five bedrooms, six baths, four living areas, three dining areas, and a pool with a built-in hot tub; our new home was more than I could’ve ever dreamed of.
The four-car garage left one space empty, and Dad quickly proclaimed that he would be buying a motorcycle to fill that space. Mr. Taylor paid Dad a salary that was twice as much as what he had been making at his old company. My father had never been happier in his entire life, and he told us that all the time.
Not long after we arrived at our new home, Dad told me to get myself ready for an interview. He and Mr. Taylor had talked about me working at the company, but Mr. Taylor wanted to meet me—to feel me out to see where I would fit best.
I’d never been more nervous. The new company car sped along as Dad drove me to the giant building that housed the offices of Global Distributing.
“This place is huge,” I gushed as I got out of my father’s car.
“It’s a monster, isn’t it?” He glowed as he walked up the steps with me right on his heels.
I wasn’t rushing alongside him because of excitement, but for fear I’d get lost if I didn’t keep up. “There’re so many people here. I can’t believe he even needs either of us.”
“Well, luckily, he does.” Dad pushed the elevator button, and we stepped into the packed lift when it arrived. I could smell that someone had just had coffee for breakfast; another person smelled like donuts. I focused on the people around me to avoid thinking about the scrutiny that I would soon face from Mr. Taylor.
We went all the way to the top, and only one other person was left to get off with us. The man was wearing a suit and tie, and looked like a real professional. Dad did, too, wearing a new suit and tie. I was the only one who looked like I wouldn’t fit in.
My blue dress went all the way down to my ankles, and I wore flats. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a matching silk ribbon wrapped around it. My father had helped me pick out my outfit. He said it made me look my age. I thought it made me look six years old.
My heart pounded as I followed my dad to Mr. Taylor’s office. “It’s just at the end of this hallway. I’ve got an office up here too.” He pointed to a door that had his name on a gold nameplate about halfway down the long corridor.
“Wow, Dad. Cool,” I gushed. “Can I see your office when this is over?”
“You bet.” He stopped at Mr. Taylor’s door. I took a deep breath, trying to tell myself that it was no big deal that the man who sat behind that door held my future in his hands. “Here we are.”
After Dad knocked, a deep voice called out, “Come in, Sebastien.”
“Wow, how’d he know it was you?” I asked.
“Surveillance cameras.” He pointed at the tiny camera above the door we stood in front of.
“Oh, yeah.” I felt a little stupid for not noticing it before.
As my dad opened the door, my eyes were immediately drawn to the tall man who stood by a counter with an expensive coffee machine on it. He turned to us with a cup of steaming liquid in his hand. “You made it, Sebastien. And this must be Emma.”
I couldn’t think, much less talk. But Dad bumped me with his shoulder. “Shake his hand, Emma.”
Only then did I notice Mr. Taylor’s extended hand. “Oh, sorry. Hi, Mr. Taylor. My father’s told me a lot about you.” I almost blurted something about his divorce—my dad had filled me in about that on our drive over—and that would’ve been super inappropriate. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Sir,” Dad whispered.
“Sir,” I added.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Emma Hancock,” his voice was smooth, rich, deep, and sophisticated. It took my breath away.
But it was the touch of his hand that set off feelings that I’d never experienced before. My core felt hot. My panties felt damp. Something inside me vibrated.
When I looked up into his eyes—eyes that were a stunning combination of green and brown all mixed up in the most fantastic way—my heart stopped. “Hi.” I felt starstruck even though the man wasn’t a star.
He laughed lightly then kept hold of my hand, pulling me to a chair. “Here, take a seat.” After I sat down, he held out the cup of coffee to me. “Care for some coffee, Emma?”
“Emma doesn’t drink coffee, Christopher,” Dad told him.
