Page 4 of Under the Mistletoe
She nods. “Usually.”
“Why?”
Her brow pinches as her pretty eyes search mine for a few seconds. “Why?”
“Yes, why? You have the skills. A track record. Why wouldn’t someone keep you?”
She’s unwavering yet looking at me like I’ve asked the most ridiculous question.
“Most businesses don’t like that I hold up a mirror to their strategies. They feel raw. Exposed. They think they’re already on the path to success, and they hate it when someone points out how flawed their systems are. Especially someone like me.” She’s right. My ego took a bruising reading her report. Some of the recommendations cut initiatives that I implemented. But my need for success is greater than my ego. I’m happy to admit when I’m wrong and move forward with a new strategy.
“Someone like you?” I press.
“Young. Female.” Beautiful. Fuckable… I add silently, then jerk myself upright. Get it together, York. She’s your employee, not a date. I push my hair back from my forehead and scrub my jaw. I date a lot of women. Too many, if you believe everything you read in the social pages. It isn’t something I do consciously. I have a lot of events where I need a plus one, and I meet a lot of people everywhere I go. It’s odd for me to have a night in, but these days, it’s something I’m starting to miss.
That’s what makes this woman in front of me so surprising. I went on a date last night with Miranda, a fashion model from Milan. Tonight, I’m heading to a new Broadway show with Catherine, a beauty editor from England whom I met in passing at a fashion show a month ago. My cell is full of names, women who would jump at a moment's notice to be on my arm, yet this woman now has my entire attention. Beauty and brains are a deadly combination.
The need to move makes my body jittery. I step closer to her, almost too close.
“I think your work is outstanding.” I draw in a deep breath, and her floral aroma halts my steps. My body automatically provides the self-preservation I need from doing something increasingly stupid.
“I enjoy it.” She swallows roughly, the action making me realize that she isn’t as unaffected by me as I first thought. The silence stretches, neither of us moving, both watching the other, my own heart pounding in time with the rapid pulse in her neck. My eyes drop over her again, something she doesn’t miss as I hear her inhale sharply. The air between us is electric.
I should step back. I should sit my ass down at my desk, thank her for the fantastic job she’s doing, then tell her to leave.
“Be my business advisor.” I’m going straight to hell.
Eyes widening, she asks softly, “Your what?”
“My business advisor. I want you to sit on the executive floor and report directly to me. I want your eyes and ears on every department, every initiative, and on every employee. This report outlines what can be done over the next six to twelve months. But we have legacy systems, a fragile culture, evolving logistics. I want York Enterprises bigger, stronger, and future proofed.”
“I’m…” she starts to say, shaking her head.
“Flattered?”
“No…”
I frown. “Honored?” I offer warily.
Her lips purse slightly. “No.”
“Surprised?” That one feels closer.
“Well, yes…” She’s still hesitant. I haven’t won her yet.
“Full time, six figures. Full healthcare and all benefits.” I lay out my cards, taking another small step toward her, causing her to look up a little more. I pause. Her face is illuminated by the overhead lights, her hair falling down her back, and her mouth opens a little. Fuck.
“That’s very generous of you.” Her voice is barely a whisper. I have no idea what’s going on. Other than it's palpable.
“So that’s a yes?” I clench my hands in my pockets so I don’t move them. I’ve never asked an employee to stay and never cared this much about the answer.
“I don’t think it’s something I can make work.”
I pause. She’s rejecting me?
“You don’t think…?” I’m not used to not getting what I want the minute I see it. No one declines a job offer from York Enterprises, or an offer from me. Our graduate program is the most competitive in the country. People bend over backward for the chance to work here.
Eyes flicking away from mine, she seems to ponder her response. “I have something else lined up already.”
