Relentless (Mason Family 4)

So far, so good.

Oliver slides the paper from Genevieve toward me. “Have you had time to look at this?”

I nod.

“Is this in your wheelhouse?” he asks.

I scan the list of job duties again. “Of course. I’ve done all of that before. None of it would be a problem.”

“That’s great. I think you seem like a good fit for us.”

I raise my hand to my lips, touching them briefly, before dropping it back to my lap.

“You’ve asked me one question—two, maybe,” I point out. “Excuse me for saying this, but how do you know I’d be a good fit here?”

“First instincts.” His features remain perfectly calm. “I’ve been in business long enough—had enough assistants and co-workers—to know when I have chemistry with someone and when I don’t. It’s imperative that exists between two people who will work as closely together as I will work with my assistant.”

Fair enough.

“And I think you and I will work together very well,” he says, his voice growing deeper.

His gaze sears into me. It’s so heavy, so hot, that I have to look away.

He’s right, of course. There is a definite connection between us. It’s a ripple of energy present every time we’re together. And while I’m sure chemistry is necessary in the executive office, I’m not sure it should feel like this.

A job interview shouldn’t borderline feel like a date. It shouldn’t feel like we’re about to walk outside, get in his car, and go to dinner. And it sure as hell shouldn’t feel like we’re one errant look—one misfire of the energy between us—away from being naked and sweaty on this conference room table.

I take a deep breath. Oliver’s attention sits squarely on me. It’s perfectly professional on the surface, but the heat that lies just beneath the exterior crackles. He wants me here. Or does he just want me?

Can I do this?

I can’t do this.

I need a real, bill-paying job again. My savings are depleted, all extra expenditures have been cut, and the piddly life insurance from Luca has been gone for a while. I’m up shit creek without a paddle, but is this the paddle I’ve been looking for?

As I look at Oliver sitting across from me and feel a tingle in my belly, I’m not sure that Mason Limited is the right answer.

I have to be honest with myself. I’m very attracted to him. It would be so much easier if I wasn’t.

Oliver takes a pen out of the container on the table and scribbles on the back of the job description. Then he slides the paper toward me again. The number written is exactly in the middle of the salary window—an amazing offer. Not at all where I thought it would be.

He raises a brow. “That’s our offer. Start time would be as soon as you’re able.”

I blow out a breath. “That’s very generous.”

“Of course, we will reassess it on your first review,” he says. “We need great people to be able to do great things. We pay for our employees fairly.”

My smile wobbles. “Mr. Mason,” I begin, unsure about what to call him now, “I appreciate your faith in me. But I’ll need a bit of time to think about it.”

He wasn’t expecting this. His lips press together, his brows tug into a mass in the middle of his forehead.

“I can get back to you in a couple of days,” I offer.

He nods curiously. “Sure. Not a problem.” He pauses, watching me carefully before rolling his chair back. “Do you have any questions for me? I’m happy to answer any questions you may have.”

I shake my head and get to my feet. “No, I think I’m clear on everything. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me today.”

“Here.” He hands me a business card as he stands. “Call me. My personal cell number is on there. If you have any questions at all, let me know. I’d be happy to discuss anything you might need to talk through.”

His fingers brush against mine as I take the black card from him. It sends a zip of electricity through my body. He holds my gaze a moment longer than necessary, the intensity infiltrating my defenses and settling deep inside my core before turning toward the door.

I wait as he pulls it open, letting the cool office air inside the room. We step into the hall but turn toward each other instead of going our separate ways.

He smiles. My heart flutters in my chest.

“Do you need me to see you out?” he asks.

“I’ll just … go out the way I came.” I look over my shoulder and see the receptionist watching us from her desk. “Genevieve is waiting on me, I think.”

He glances over my shoulder and then back at me. “Genevieve needs to mind her own business.”

I laugh, relieved at the effortless way the easiness between us returns.