Mr. London - Page 1

Chapter 1

The first Tuesday in February was a typical London day. Raining, wet, and foggy. A day to be inside curled up in bed reading a good book or binge watching movies on Netflix. I walked down the sidewalk, umbrella in hand, slim leather briefcase in the other, and wondered how the upcoming interview would go.

I wanted this job more than anything else. I’ve been working at McCall Enterprises for the last three years in the Atlanta, Georgia office, my second job out of college, and I love it. A real-estate development company, specializing in upscale, luxury hotels. It’s challenging work with long hours and boundless paperwork. When the job opening for executive assistant to the CEO of the company became available, I just knew I had to go for it. It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. And it was the right time, too. I was ready for a major life change. Moving to London could be exactly what I needed. And now here I am, making my way to the head office, butterflies in my stomach.

I had been warned about who I would be for working for. Alex McCall, CEO and founder of McCall Enterprises. British, billionaire, bad boy. Rumor is he’s a big-time womanizer who does not discriminate. Assistants, secretaries, co-workers. Anyone in a skirt was up for grabs. Literally. However, I wasn’t going to be scared off by the rumors. And even if there is any truth to them, I plan to keep my head on straight and focus on my career.

Googling Alex McCall had produced little information about him. I found a few professional pictures of him standing outside some of his hotel projects. He is definitely a handsome man, in a distinguished, polished way.

I arrive at an unassuming four story Georgian style brick building in Mayfair, squeezed between two large white stately buildings, with a bronze plate simply stating McCall Enterprises. Glancing up, I notice a security camera positioned at the corner of the building, pointing directly at the front entrance door. I enter the building, folding up my umbrella, and trying my best to appear composed.

The receptionist looks at me, peering over her glasses, busily typing away. “Good morning, may I help you?” she asks cheerily. She looks to be around thirty, shoulder length brown hair, in soft waves framed around her face.

“My name is Katherine Harris. I have an eleven o’clock appointment with Mr. McCall.” The receptionist glances down at a list of names, a perfectly manicured nail trailing down the list until she spots my name.

“Yes, I have you on the list. Please have a seat and Mr. McCall will be with you shortly.”

I sit down in the tastefully decorated lobby, in a beige sitting chair, removing my trench coat and placing it along with my umbrella to the side of the chair. I take a deep breath, exhale, and will myself to relax. Just be yourself. You can do this.

Fifteen minutes later, I hear a buzz at the receptionist’s desk, and she picks up the telephone. “Yes. Yes, sir. She is. I’ll bring her right in.” The receptionist replaces the phone and walks around the desk towards me, high heels clicking with purpose.

“Miss Harris, Mr. McCall is available now. If you could follow me, please.”

My heart pounding in my chest, I smile broadly, trying to appear calm and confident. I stand up, smoothing down my grey skirt suit, following her past her desk. She opens the door to a well-lit hallway, and we walk down the long corridor, passing three offices along the way. Finally we reach the end of the hallway, and I see two double oak doors. The receptionist knocks on the door, waits a moment, pokes her head in, and then opens the door for me to enter.

“Good luck,” she whispers to me, and then quickly closes the door behind her.

This is it. Showtime.

Alex McCall stands up from his smooth brown leather office chair, confidently strides over to me, extending his hand.

“Hello, Miss Harris. Alex McCall.” His voice is deep, with a tone of authority.

I place my hand in his, shake his hand, and feel a jolt of electricity shoot through my body. “Hello, Mr. McCall. Nice to meet you.”

At six feet tall, dark brown hair with just a slight hint of silver at his temples, blue eyes, slim with a muscular build, around forty. He is certainly a gorgeous man. The internet photos don’t do him justice. Not to mention the British accent. Oh, that British accent….

Get it together, Katherine. Focus on the interview.

“Please, call me Alex. Have a seat.” He pulls a chair out for me, and I sit down. Alex walks back around to his sprawling desk, sits down in his leather chair, and leans back. His hands clasped in front of him, he looks me in the eye, his blue eyes piercing into mine, as though he is analyzing me, assessing me.

“I understand you’ve worked for me for three years now, at the Atlanta office. Under the direction of Thomas Rolland,” Alex says, jumping right into the interview.

“Yes, that’s right,” I replied.

“Three years is a long time. Tell me about your duties there.” He shifts in his seat, waiting for my reply, not taking his eyes off me.

I cleared my throat. “Well, I have many responsibilities including managing Mr. Rolland’s schedule, booking meetings and scheduling conferences. I prepare correspondence on his behalf as needed. Keep the database updated daily. I also assisted on the Windsor Hotel project.”

Windsor Hotel and Spa is Atlanta’s largest hotel and spa to date. It’s all modern glitz and glamour. Marble, gold, and glass throughout. Infinity swimming pool with a glass bottom. A to-die-for spa. Five star restaurant, of course. All of Atlanta’s rich and famous have been there to see and be seen. It was a challenging project and one which I learned a lot, especially as the main office contact for the project manager.

“Ahh, yes,

the Windsor Hotel. I’m very proud of that project. It’s one of my favorite developments so far.”

So it should be. The hotel has only been in operation for a year and has already doubled its expected profits. “Yes, it’s a beautiful property,” I agree.

“I see on your CV you graduated from University of Georgia with a degree in Business Administration,” he states, glancing at a piece of paper in front of him.

“That’s right. I attended University of Georgia, graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Business Administration, minor in Paralegal Studies. After college, I worked at a law firm which specialized in real-estate. I did that for a year, and decided I wanted to learn more about the development side of real-estate. I got the job working as Mr. Rolland’s assistant and I’ve been with McCall Enterprises ever since.”

I paused for a moment, allowing myself a good look at Alex. He was wearing a crisp white button down shirt, grey suit, light blue tie, silver cuff links. The tie made his blue eyes sparkle. It was difficult not to stare at him. There was something about the way he carried himself – full of confidence.

Alex nods, listening, and then states, “As you know, this position requires that the person hired will be working with me, directly. I need someone who is organized and efficient. Someone reliable.”

Tags: Margot Scott Romance
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