“It's a good philosophy.”
I walked over to her desk and immediately noticed a picture of her with a handsome, rugged-looking man staring at me from next to her computer. It was completely irrational, but a sudden stab of jealousy shot sharply through me.
“Is this your boyfriend?” I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. It was a stupid thing to ask, but what could I do? It had already been said.
“No, no,” she answered hastily, and I couldn’t help feel a sliver or relief at her quick insistence. “He's my oldest brother, Eddie,” she added. “He's also my best friend.”
I stared at the man in the picture, and it began to make sense. Once I looked closer, the physical resemblance between the two was undeniable.
“I see it now. You two favor quite a bit.”
“Yeah. We get that all the time. He and I both have our mother's looks, while my other brothers all look like my dad.”
“How come you don't have pictures of the rest of them on your desk?” I asked and immediately could tell that I probably shouldn't have. She looked noticeably uncomfortable. There were obviously some family issues there.
“It's just that I'm closer to Eddie than my other brothers,” she replied softly.
“Oh, I see,” I responded, not wishing to press the issue. “Well, tell me a bit more about Eddie then. He looks like an interesting guy.”
She smiled, seeming relieved to have gotten away from the topic of her other brothers.
“Eddie’s great. He's a rather unconventional guy—he was a college dropout, but he's worked hard and is quite a success in his field.”
“And, what field might that be?”
“He's a musician—the lead guitarist for The Razor's Edge.”
“What? No way. He's seriously in The Razor's Edge?”
She looked surprised that I'd heard of them.
“Yeah,” she smiled. “He's one of the two founding members still in the band.”
“That’s crazy. I've been a fan of theirs for years.” It was true. While I'd been raised on jazz and classical music and, thanks to my mother, had played the piano since age 6, my rebellious side had always had a soft spot for punk music.
“I discovered The Razor's Edge in my teens when I'd heard one of their tracks on a snowboarding video,” I continued. “That song Bullet. Man, that tune used to get me amped before my snowboarding sessions.”
“Wait. You were into snowboarding and punk music?” she said with a laugh that was half amusement, half disbelief.
I smiled. “All work and no play makes Asher a dull boy,” I countered. “And with all the hard work and focus I've poured into my life, I needed some outlets, some escapes. In my teens I had punk music, snowboarding, motocross, and a few other extreme sports I could sneak in without my mom finding out.”
“Wow,” she said with another laugh and bright smile that was just as stunning as her eyes. “I never would have thought it.”
“There's a lot most people don't know about me,” I offered softly. “A lot.” Suddenly, I no longer felt like talking about myself. Things were getting a little too personal, and so I changed the topic abruptly.
“Anyway, we're wasting precious time here. I have a lot of things on my plate today, so we should get to work. Have a seat and let's chat about this Harry Winston project.”
We sat down in the meeting area off in one corner of her office and started discussing the campaign while I did my utmost to focus on the conversation and ignore her striking eyes and the curvaceous legs revealed so casually from beneath her skirt. This was going to be an interesting working relationship—interesting indeed.
Chapter Four
Lilah
I sat at my desk and stared out through the wall of glass, mesmerized by the Pacific Ocean rolling in the distance. I drew in a deep breath and immediately felt calm. The sight of the ocean had always soothed me, especially in times when I was stressed. It was the main reason I had quickly requested an office with an ocean view. I knew this job wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, and I was going to take whatever stress relief options I could. An ocean view seemed like the perfect place to start.
As I sat there, I began to mull over all that had happened in the last hour. Asher had just left my office after a very in-depth explanation of exactly what would be expected of me in this position—which was a lot. We had also discussed how to move forward with the Harry Winston watch campaign.
This was easily going to be the most demanding job I’d ever had. I'd always been comfortable under pressure, however intense it was. Rarely had I faced a task I could not rise to and conquer. But this—this was more pressure and more responsibility than anything I'd ever faced before. It was going to take every ounce of my focus.