Bared to you

Chapter3

I pushed through the revolving door of the Crossfire into the lobby ten

minutes before nine the next morning. Wanting to make the best impression

on my first day, I’d gone with a simple sheath dress paired with black

pumps that I slid on in replacement of my walking shoes on the elevator

ride up. My blond hair was twisted up in an artful chignon that resembled a

figure eight, courtesy of Cary. I was hair-inept, but he could create styles

that were glamorous masterpieces. I wore the small pearl studs my dad had

given me as a graduation gift and the Rolex from Stanton and my mother.

I had begun to think I’d put too much care into my appearance, but as I

stepped into the lobby I remembered being sprawled across the floor in my workout clothes and I was grateful I didn’t look anything like that graceless

girl. The two security guards didn’t seem to put two and two together when

I flashed them my ID card on the way to the turnstiles.

Twenty floors later, I was exiting into the vestibule of Waters Field &

Leaman. Before me was a wall of bulletproof glass that framed the double-

door entrance to the reception area. The receptionist at the crescent-shaped

desk saw the badge I held up to the glass. She hit the button that unlocked

the doors as I put my ID away.

“Hi, Megumi,” I greeted her when I stepped inside, admiring her

cranberry-colored blouse. She was mixed race, a little bit Asian for sure,

and very pretty. Her hair was dark and thick, and cut into a sleek bob that

was shorter in the back and razor sharp in the front. Her sloe eyes were

brown and warm, and her lips were full and naturally pink.

“Eva, hi. Mark’s not in yet, but you know where you’re going, right?”

“Absolutely.” With a wave, I took the hallway to the left of the reception

desk all the way to the end, where I made another left turn and ended up in

a formerly open space now partitioned into cubicles. One was mine and I

went straight to it.

I dropped my purse and the bag holding my walking flats into the bottom

drawer of my utilitarian metal desk; then booted up my computer. I’d

brought a couple of things to personalize my space and I pulled them out.

One was a framed collage of three photos—me and Cary on Coronado

beach, my mom and Stanton on his yacht in the French Riviera, and my dad

on duty in his City of Oceanside, California, police cruiser. The other item

was a colorful arrangement of glass flowers that Cary had given me just

that morning as a “first day” gift. I tucked it beside the small grouping of

photos, and sat back to take in the effect.

“Good morning, Eva.”

I pushed to my feet to face my boss. “Good morning, Mr. Garrity.”

“Call me Mark, please. Come on over to my office.”

I followed him across the strip of hallway, once again thinking that my

new boss was very easy to look at with his gleaming dark skin, trim goatee,

and laughing brown eyes. Mark had a square jaw and a charmingly crooked

smile. He was trim and fit, and he carried himself with a confident poise

that inspired trust and respect.

He gestured at one of the two seats in front of his glass and chrome desk,

and waited until I sat to settle into his Aeron chair. Against the backdrop of

sky and skyscrapers, Mark looked accomplished and powerful. He was, in

fact, just a junior account manager and his office was a closet compared to the ones occupied by the directors and executives, but no one could fault

the view.

He leaned back and smiled. “Did you get settled into your new

apartment?”

I was surprised he remembered, but I appreciated it, too. I’d met him

during my second interview and liked him right away.

“For the most part,” I answered. “Still a few stray boxes here and there.”

“You moved from San Diego, right? Nice city, but very different from

New York. Do you miss the palm trees?”

“I miss the dry air. The humidity here is taking some getting used to.”

“Wait ’til summer hits.” He smiled. “So…it’s your first day and you’re

my first assistant, so we’ll have to figure this out as we go. I’m not used to

delegating, but I’m sure I’ll pick it up quick.”

I was instantly at ease. “I’m eager to be delegated to.”

“Having you around is a big step up for me, Eva. I’d like you to be happy

working here. Do you drink coffee?”

“Coffee is one of my major food groups.”

“Ah, an assistant after my own heart.” His smile widened. “I’m not going

to ask you to fetch coffee for me, but I wouldn’t mind if you helped me

figure out how to use the new one-cup coffee brewers they just put in the

break rooms.”

I grinned. “No problem.”

“How sad is it that I don’t have anything else for you?” He rubbed the

back of his neck sheepishly. “Why don’t I show you the accounts I’m

working on and we’ll go from there?”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Mark touched bases with two clients

and had a long meeting with the creative team working on concept ideas for

a trade school. It was a fascinating process seeing firsthand how the various

departments picked up the baton from each other to carry a campaign from

proposition to fruition. I might’ve stayed late just to get a better feel of the

layout of the offices, but my phone rang at ten minutes to five.

“Mark Garrity’s office. Eva Tramell speaking.”

“Get your ass home so we can go out for the drink you rain-checked on

yesterday.”

Cary’s mock sternness made me smile. “All right, all right. I’m coming.”

Shutting down my computer, I cleared out. When I reached the bank of elevators, I pulled out my cell to text a quick “on my way” note to Cary. A

ding alerted me to which car was stopping on my floor and I moved over to

stand in front of it, briefly returning my attention to hitting the send button.

When the doors opened, I took a step forward. I glanced up to watch where

I was going and blue eyes met mine. My breath caught.

The s*x god was the lone occupant.