“No, you don’t have to bother Katie… I mean, Ms. Carson. I can do it. Do you have the information with you in your briefcase? I’ll just take it now. I can exercise later.”
“I don’t have the information here. I’ll have to get it from my computer.”
The elevator had stopped on the eighteenth floor, and she was standing in the doorway as the elevator doors tried repeatedly to close.
“I think the elevator’s getting angry. I’ll get off here and wait for another one to go back down to my apartment. I just need to figure out how to login to the wireless. Do you know the password offhand?” She knew she was rambling like an idiot, but Gherring made her nervous. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out.”
She turned and stepped out of the elevator to let the doors close and felt the shock of his touch on her elbow. She jumped and twirled to see him standing, braced against the agitated elevator door.
“Ms. Best, I think it would be easier if you came up so I could explain to you exactly what I need.”
“Up? To your place?” Did her voice sound squeaky?
“Yes, Ms. Best. My computer’s in my apartment—in my ‘big, fancy’ apartment.”
She froze. Go up to his apartment? Of course it didn’t mean anything. Surely Katie went to his apartment all the time to get work assignments or deliver things or whatever. After all, she was his personal executive assistant.
“Ms. Best? Are you coming? I think this elevator may have progressed from angry to furious.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I was just
thinking,”
She felt herself blush again as she stepped back into the elevator. She was being silly, worrying about his intentions. She was simply naïve. Anyway, Steven Gherring would never be interested in someone like her. There were actresses and supermodels who’d be thrilled to be with him. Her face was radiating heat. How could she think he’d ever be attracted to her?
She tugged down on the hem of her shorts, willing them to cover a bit more leg. She inspected her legs while pretending to tighten a shoelace. She was certainly glad she’d shaved that morning. Her legs, usually pasty white, had a nice healthy glow thanks to a few sessions of spray tan. Then she spotted a spray streak on her left inner thigh. She adjusted her right leg forward and clamped her legs together to hide the brown stain. This precarious position caused her to lose her balance, and she let out a little gasp.
“Ms. Best? Are you okay? Are you in pain?” He reached out to steady her. She pulled back so quickly she stumbled the other direction. Flailing her arms for balance, her elbow hit him in the chin.
“Ouch!”
“Oh! Oh Mr. Gherring, I’m sorry!”
He rubbed his chin. “Ms. Best, I believe you are trying to injure me.”
Anne followed Gherring through the ornate double doors of the penthouse apartment. He disappeared into a back room, muttering instructions to Anne that unfortunately didn’t filter from her ears into her brain. She gazed around at the stately opulence that surrounded her on all sides. Colors were sophisticated and subdued, but every finish appeared to be beautiful and expensive, from the granite inlaid wood floors, to the chocolate, Italian leather furniture, highlighted by impressive chandeliers suspended from twenty-foot ceilings. French doors led onto an expansive balcony, visible through enormous picture windows flanking the doorway. Anne perched on the edge of the sofa, staring at the marble coffee table that probably cost more than her car, wondering what instructions Gherring had given her before vanishing.
“Did you find it?” He entered the room having shed his coat and tie and, ohmygosh, his shirt. Anne tried valiantly not to stare and pretended not to notice his muscles rippling as he pulled on a sport shirt. Even from the corner of her eye she could tell there was no flab anywhere. She wondered what he did to look like that. Did he have a personal trainer? She felt warm all over. What was she doing? She had no business staring at this man who was her boss and miles out of her league.
She forced her eyes up to his. What had he asked? “Did I find what?”
“The laptop. Did you look in the study?” He walked into another room and opened the door to reveal an office with rich walnut paneling extending to cover the coved ceiling. She followed him through the door and found him leaning intently over his desk, presenting her with a nice view of a firm backside. She did like a guy with a fine bottom. Suddenly, she realized he had turned around to face her. Had he noticed her perusal?
“You have a very nice… uhmm… apartment.” Heat flooded her face.
“Why thank you, Ms. Best. I do like to know my assets are appreciated.”
She squirmed, attempting to extract herself from his amused inspection. She pointed behind him to the computer. “Is that the information you wanted me to see?”
He turned back to the screen. “Yes, you see this is my current itinerary, but the timing of the flights won’t work with the meeting that has been changed from Tuesday morning to Monday afternoon. Here’s the new meeting schedule. You’ll also need to arrange limousine service to coordinate with the earlier flight. Fortunately, all the presentation material is ready to go, so no changes are needed there.”
She felt a growing confidence. This was all about travel arrangements. She could do this job in her sleep. She leaned in to study the information and email a copy to herself. As she worked she became aware of his presence, her skin prickly where her shoulder touched him. Her fingers began to tremble, and she fumbled as she keyed in the information.
“You’re shivering. Are you cold? I should’ve realized with your shorts on, you’d be cold in here. Should I turn up the heat?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Just let me…” She glanced at him, mortified he’d noticed her shaking.
“Are you sure?”