Only You (Sweet Torment 2)

He raised a brow.

“You realize I’m looking for a personal assistant? That means you fulfill any and every desire I need met.”

I pursed my lips. “I heard your last assistant is going on maternity leave. Did she fill all your desires?”

He laughed. “Yes, she did. And she and her husband of five years are very excited for their new baby. See, that”—he waved his hand—“is why we won’t work.”

“You said I’d need to fulfill your desires. I just wanted to clarify what that entailed.”

He looked at me deadpan. “That means anything, Miss Levine. Purely professional of course.”

He looked me over once more, leaving a heat in his wake, and I couldn’t help but tremble a little, remembering how his mouth felt on my skin. Maybe it was because I was at the end of my rope in every area of my life. Or maybe it was because only a week ago he’d looked at me like I was something special and made me laugh. Made me feel things. Made me beg for more.

Now, he looked at me like I was a risk. Though I couldn’t blame him, considering how I left him. It sucked realizing I really wanted that other Leo back. The Leo who made me forget my life for a little while and seemed content to spend time with me. The Leo I obviously chased off by ditching him.

But that encounter was over and I needed to approach him like I would any other man I’d come into professional contact with. Ferociously. It was the only way to earn their respect. It was how I got the job working for Bill. I had to prove why I was the best choice.

“With our previous encounter, I fear the workplace environment could become . . . hostile.”

“I’m nothing if not professional, I assure you.”

He raised a brow. “Oh? I still have fingernail marks on my back to prove otherwise.”

“I was off the clock.” I slapped my file down on his desk. “And I still have a bite mark on my shoulder.”

He grinned. “Well, I see we both have little mementos from that night. However, I still have a concern of a sexual harassment issue. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable at any point. Unfortunately, I don’t see a way around this.”

I swallowed hard and put myself directly in front of him. There was no way I could lose this shot. First off, Leo didn’t seem to know details or care about the fact that I no longer worked for the governor. Roman had obviously spoken with Leo about my taking on this position, but I trusted he would never talk about the scandal or people involved.

Would there be tension in Leo’s and my relationship? Maybe. Because he was right—we’d had one hell of an experience. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

If I could just land this job, I could get the minimal three-month experience and a letter of recommendation. That would be major, since I currently couldn’t list any of my former bosses as references.

Roman did the best he could with this little reference, but I couldn’t count on that for anything else. The only reason I got his endorsement for this position in the first place was because Roman was friends with Leo and it wasn’t a job in politics. I appreciated Roman’s help, but I also knew he would now have to distance himself from me.

But Leo’s name attached with a good word would give me a huge bump in finding something else once my time here was up. Not to mention, mingling with other large firms he did business with would open doors to this new profession of . . .

Anything but politics.

More than that. I’d go back to being useful. Needed. Busy. Things I clung to. Things that made me feel worth something. I had only been a week on the unemployment market and the lack of social life and the stillness of my empty apartment was closing in on me. Not to mention the get-the-fuck-out notice. My time was up.

“I’m the right person for this job, Leo,” I said, only a foot between us. “Look over my resume and you’ll see that.”

He smiled and the thing made my heart pound like a stressed-out hummingbird. “I always liked your confidence, Miss Levine.”

I wanted to scoff. If only he knew my “confidence” was a mask, covering up all my fears and everything I lacked. As if reading my mind, he said, “But I want something more than that.”

“Something more than my confidence?” I frowned.

“Yes. I want to know what’s not on the resume.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have a stack of capable candidates ready to take this position. People who have more experience, especially in this line of work. I know you were in politics. I know you have skills that would carry over into this kind of job. But why you, Paige? What makes you different?”

My throat closed. The answer was simple: I was desperate. Of course, I wouldn’t say that out loud. Usually, I’d spin this situation, this interview, to my advantage. But something about the way Leo looked at me made me feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like he could see straight to the heart of my problems and how I was drowning.

“I’m different because of my priorities.”