Page 4 of Cupcak
“Yes.” Not taking his eyes off mine, he reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a card. “I want you to work for me.” He slides his card over the counter toward me, his smile now replaced with a rather heated look.
“In, um…what capacity?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice even since those eyes of his have my panties onfire. I’m wondering if this is some kind of indecent proposal or an actual job offer. Either way, my answer is most likely a resounding yes. Hell, I’d give it up to him for free…
“I know a good sales rep when I see one, Emmy. You sold two dozen cupcakes to a man who can’t remember the last time he’d eaten one. So I want you to come and work for me. I’ll start you off with some training, and then see how you work your way up.”
My mouth falls open, but I’m quick to seal it shut. This is the mostdecentproposal I could have imagined. Actually, it’stoogood. I’m not qualified.
“Sir...Mr.Grant, I’m afraid I don’t...You should know, I’m only just working on my GED. I had to drop out of high school, and I don’t have any proper training.” My chin comes up a little defiantly. “I’m working on it, though. I take night classes three times a week, and once I have my GED, I’ll start applying for college. I…I have goals,” I blurt, my eyes dropping from his as I explain my predicament.
There’s a beat of silence, where he doesn’t speak, and I refuse to look up at him.Great. That’s that then.But then his big body appears in my line of vision, and his finger curls beneath my chin, lifting my face up to look at him. His eyes bore into mine, and my breath hitches again.
“Did you think that would make me think any less of you?” he asks, and I shrug, surprised that this man is touching my face at all, and a little too startled to reply. “Well, it doesn’t. I think it is commendable that you’re working hard and that you want to finish school, Emmy. I don’t believe you need a fancy degree in Marketing to be good at your job. I don’t have a degree at all. And it didn’t stop me from building an empire.”
My eyes snap to his. “For real?”
“For real,” he confirms, regrettably releasing the hold he has on my chin. “So, will you call me once your work here is done?”
“Yes.” I let out a disbelieving laugh as I nod. “Yes. I’ll definitely call you.”
“Good. Because if you don’t, I’ll hunt you down.” He gives me a pointed look, and I’ve no doubt about the seriousness of his words.
“I will definitely call,” I assure him.
“Then I look forward to a long future together,” he says, giving me what seems like averyintimate smile. But surely that’s just wishful thinking...right? I mean, a man so many years my senior couldn’t possibly be interested in me like that? Not when he’s just offered me a job?
“Uh, me too,” I say, picking up the card off the counter and studying the black and gold lettering—Drake Grant, CEO, Grant Car Detailing and Car Care Products.
“Don’t lose that.” He taps the edge of the card as he steps away. “See you soon, Emmy.”
“You will,” I say, a smile creeping over my lips as I watch him deftly cut through the crowded mall.Those pants sure do hug that ass of his well…
When he’s out of sight, I release the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and take another look at the card. Who knew selling cupcakes would lead to a job selling car care products and a career ladder?
I slide the card into my bra for safekeeping. I will definitely be seeing the sexy CEO sooner rather than later. This is an opportunity too good to pass up.
Drake
“Mr. Grant?” Alice, my secretary’s voice filters through the intercom, forcing me to look up from the papers fanned out on my desk, a little annoyed. This is the second time I’ve been interrupted in the last hour, the previous being an unexpected—and unscheduled, I might add—call I had to take from a supermarket giant who insisted an order never arrived when we already confirmed it had. Sometimes people are just looking for discounts and refunds they don’t deserve.
Resisting the urge to groan, I run a frustrated hand through my hair and press the button to reply. “What is itthistime?”
“There’s a Ms.Townsend here for you. She doesn’t have an appointment, but she has your card and insists you personally offered her a job.”
I grin. Now this is an interruption I’m more than happy to deal with. I’d expected her to call me. But a personal visit is so much better.
“Send Ms.Townsend in right away please, Alice.” I release my finger from the device and sit back in my chair, my eyes trained on the door.
Emmy Townsend is here.It’s been a week since I saw her. An entire week where I’ve had to contend with just the memory of her beautiful heart-shaped face. I’ve been like a lovesick teen, often finding myself checking my phone to see whether I had a missed call or text from her, all the while dealing with an unfamiliar feeling of apprehension that she might not call at all. Something I’m not used to in my life.
But at the end of the day, I knew she needed the job I’m offering. I’d seen a hunger in her eyes during our first meeting, a hunger that I remember seeing a long time ago, reflected back at me in the mirror when I started my car-detailing business and my headquarters had been the back of my garage. I’d seen in her that unquenchable desire to succeed, and I knew without a doubt she’d do anything to get there—even accept a job offer from a stranger.
A stranger who clearly sports a boner every time I’m in sniffing distance of the girl. I keep tugging that thing raw, but whenever I so much as think about those lush curves and thick dark hair, I’m ramrod hard again, throbbing for her.It’s official, I’m a dirty old man.
Cursing the tent in my trousers, I adjust myself in my seat as that pang of disappointment hits as I invariably remind myself of the wide age gap—a chasm, really—that exists between us. Even her name,Emmy, sounds like she belongs in high school. To her, I’m probably stuffy and old. And now she’s going to walk in here and see me sitting behind a big oak desk, and she’s going to think I remind her of a principal from school over a love interest.
Love interest?Fuck, even my thoughts sound stuffy.
Groaning a little, I hurry to gather the papers on my desk and drop them into a drawer.
