“Go ahead.”
“Huh?”
“Ask your question. I’m listening.” He sat down and sipped on his smoothie.
“Please be frank. Why am I here in one of the most sought-after positions in the company? I wanted a promotion, but I’ve only been here four years. Does this have something to do with my skin color? Was I chosen because of affirmative action?”
He narrowed his eyes briefly, then set down his glass. Why did he have to remain so calm and in control when she was an emotional mess?
“What brought this on?”
“Apparently people are whispering about it. Not so quietly, either. If that’s the case, I’m sure someone else would jump at the opportunity. For me, though, I prefer to climb up the ladder rung by rung.”
“And that’s exactly what I like about you.”
“Please answer the question,” she said.
“There’s no truth in it whatsoever. Anyone whispering is jealous, plain and simple. Tell them so. Watch them squirm.”
She wanted to smile but still felt suspicious.
Had she just jumped to conclusions? If so, she looked like an idiot.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive. Now, I’d like to get to work—as soon as you’re ready.”
She momentarily froze. “Yes, of course. Sorry, sir.”
“Darius,” he said.
Why did he have to have such a sexy name? Shouldn’t bosses be named things like Jeffery, Leonard, or Edward? Every time she said his name, it sounded kinky.
“I’m ready to work, Darius.”
“Good girl.”
He sifted through the file cabinet on the left side of his desk. She was still focused on the fact he’d called her good girl. Yes, she had daddy issues, mommy issues, and everything in between, but the way he said those words made her body light up like a Christmas tree. And it was only April.
She may be twenty-nine, but she still felt like a vulnerable six-year-old inside most days. Darius’s strength, power, and confidence soothed her. She was drawn to him, yearning for him to take control and teach her everything she needed to know.
“Ross left these for you to sign.” He set more documents on the desk along with a new pen with the company logo. It wasn’t the cheap plastic ones they gave out in accounting. It was the kind of pen she’d put on display on her trinket shelf and never use.
She noticed she was zoning out, so took the pen and began signing on the dotted lines. Rose couldn’t help but feel they’d started out on the wrong foot. She’d created awkward tension because of those two snobs on the elevator.
Once complete, she looked up to see Darius leaning back in his office chair, his arms behind his head.
“What are you thinking right now?” he asked.
She was taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“Tell me your thoughts. Whatever they are,” he said.
Rose bit her bottom lip. “I was thinking about how fancy your pens are.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You asked.”
“You’ll be working under me every workday, so I want to know a little more about you. I hope that’s acceptable.”
“Yes, of course. Anything you want to know, just ask.”
“I don’t want your credentials. I already know those. I want to know about the real you. What makes you tick? What makes you different? What do you love and hate?”
There was a long moment of silence.
“My favorite color is purple.”
He sat straight, then leaned over his elbows on the desk. His shirt pulled taut around his hard muscles. “You don’t know how to play this game, do you?”
She shrugged. “There’s really not much else to tell. I’m very boring.”
“Something personal. Maybe about family?”
Why couldn’t he just give her an assignment? Numbers, reports, and any business task he tossed her way, she could handle. Divulging her embarrassing past was crossing out of her comfort zone. But she wasn’t going to cover herself in comfortable lies anymore.
“I never met my father. My mother abandoned me when I was a little girl. No other family has ever tried to make contact. I’ve only ever had myself to rely on.”
He didn’t look pitiful, which was a relief. Rose hated pity. She wasn’t sure what she should expect. Rose was used to making up stories to fit in.
“Family’s overrated. Trust me.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.
“Go for it.”
“Are you married? I was wondering why you had no children.”
“I’ve never been married.”
She wanted him to elaborate. To give her some glimpse into the man behind the desk. But that was all she got out of him. Was he gay, like Ross? A man like him couldn’t be single. No, there must be some tall, thin, blonde fiancée waiting for him at home. Rose was short, stacked, and mixed-race—not exactly arm candy for one of the richest men in the city. But she could fantasize nonetheless.
He stood up and tapped the two colored duotangs on the desk. “Keep these. Study them. I need you up-to-date on all my business dealings.”