Chapter Three
Tasha
I slammed the phone down so hard I almost chipped my clear nail polish. I laced my fingers together and squeezed tightly while I took a deep breath. Then I dialed again.
"You've reached Mr. Rainer Maxwell's office. Please leave a message." His executive assistant's voice was professional and crisp.
My temporary assistant, Amy, didn't even look up when I rammed the phone back into the receiver. "Of course he got the best assistant. Naturally, he'd get the efficient staff. I mean, how else does he sit around and chat all day?"
"I'm sorry, Ms. T, did you say something?" Amy said around a large piece of gum. "Hey, your nickname should be Misty. Get it?"
"No," I said.
"You don't?"
I ground my teeth. "I get what you're saying about the nickname, but, no. I don't need or want a nickname. Did you run over to Mr. Maxwell's office?"
Amy leaned against the door. "Yeah, he's really hot."
"You saw him?" I lunged for the door.
"He's all over the news," Amy said.
I stopped myself and laced my fingers together again. With white knuckles, I turned around and stalked back to my desk. "He's probably at yet another breakfast meeting," I muttered. "I bet he won't even show for the meeting."
"What meeting?" Amy asked.
I still had a few minutes, so I opened a news site on my computer and hit play. Rainer Maxwell's smiling face cropped up within seconds. The business anchor announced the story and tossed it to some young reporter in horn-rimmed glasses.
The technology special reporter gave a quick synopsis of the GroGreen app launch. "Industry leader, Hyperion Industries, located in the heart of San Francisco's tech movement, does it again with the launch of GroGreen. Imagine a master gardener, landscaper, and flower expert in your pocket, and this amazing new application guarantees everyone will have a green thumb."
The news story cut to Rainer in the downstairs press room. "GroGreen means anyone can be a gardener no matter how much time, space, and effort they have available. Anything from teacup flowers to homestead farm plots, to virtual gardens are all made possible through GroGreen. Ever forget to water your plants? GroGreen has reminders, and even tricks for keeping those neglected houseplants alive."
His lips were stiffer on television than in real life. The smile had just enough of a practiced edge to create little lines at the corners of his mouth. Rainer was a natural on camera, but it was nothing compared to the power he had in person.
Especially close up. When we were caught in the doorway, his mouth was relaxed, curved in an easy smile just inches from my lips. I thought about the spice and leather of his cologne, the electric brightness of his eyes, then I shook my head hard.
What was I doing?
"We at Hyperion respect Mother Nature and have finally found a way for Mother Nature to respect our busy schedules."
I scowled at the tele
vision. "That's not part of the press release I signed off on."
Outside my office, I heard Amy's airy giggle. I scrambled to turn off the news website and craned my neck to catch a glimpse. If Rainer had gotten my message and stopped by, he was too late. I needed to get on my way to the meeting or I'd be late. And I couldn't have him catch me daydreaming over his press conference.
I pressed my hands to my cheeks and hoped the blush would fade. Then I saw who leaned on the corner of Amy's desk and gave a sigh of relief.
Stanislas Eastman, the Chief Operating Officer of Hyperion Industries, made my temporary assistant laugh again with his dashing charm. He was only an inch or two taller than me but had a giant personality. Matched with his unapologetic silver hair and sky-blue eyes, he was a force to be reckoned with. I cleared my throat before he charmed my assistant right out the door to an early lunch.
"Don't you have a meeting to get to?" I asked Stan.
"I'd say the same to you, but I'm glad I caught you. Shall we, my dear?" Stan held out his arm.
"Just let me grab my reports." I ducked back into my office.
Stan leaned closer to Amy and made her giggle erupt again. I rolled my eyes but smiled. Stan was incorrigible, and I'd never seen him pass a woman without making her smile. He somehow walked the fine line between Don Juan and boss without getting caught. Rainer reminded me of Stan, but young and almost childish. Stan had the elegance born of a century and half of high society breeding. His family was one of the oldest, wealthiest, and most respected in San Francisco.