Chosen Heart (4 page)

“Its last minute, but I need you
to stay late tonight.  I’ll need you to make arrangements, now.”  Of
course it would be work related.  Why else would he need me? 
Uh…Get
a grip, Ely! 
Ignoring my puzzled look, Mr. James begins walking away
without giving me a chance to respond, explaining he’ll send the file
shortly.  He sure has an odd way of asking for help.

Calling over his shoulder, he
fires off one more demand, “Meet me in the conference room at four and bring
the laptop.” 
Aye, aye sir! 
Ignoring the inclination to stand
and salute him, I swivel in my chair, baffled by his behavior.  One moment
he’s looking at me as if I’m prey, and the next he’s ordering me around like
his servant.  I know I’m his subordinate, but dang…does he have to be so
capricious?

His unpredictable behavior is
giving me whiplash.  I can’t keep up with him.  But then again, I
probably did this to myself.  Why did I think he was even remotely
interested in me?  Regardless, I need to get my head out of my ass and
focus on my career.  I promised myself that I would focus on work and make
that priority number one.  A man like Mr. James, a man that looks like
pure unadulterated sex, would not be good right now.  He’s the type of man
that would literally fuck you into submission.  By the time he was done
with me I wouldn’t know which way was up, let alone care about my career.

~~~~~

My e-mail pings, bringing an
instant flutter rising from my belly, sticking in my throat.

From:
Alexander James

To:
Elyssa Hart

Date:
September 18, 2012, 3:45pm PST

Subject:
4:00 Meeting Files

Attached
are the files I need printed and brought to the meeting.

Alexander
James

Senior
Vice President of Sales and Marketing

P.S.
I’ve been thinking about that situation with your male “friend,” just remember
that ex-boyfriends are usually ex’s for a reason.

Two things hit at once. 
First, I now know his name.  And, lord does it fit.  If just the ping
of an e-mail notification can make my stomach flutter, knowing his name makes
my heart skip a beat.  Second, he’s been thinking about my situation,
making me slightly confused.  Ugh…He’s so confusing.  One minute he’s
all business and the next he’s giving me dating advice?  My eyes shoot to
his email signature. 
Wait a minute…Senior Vice President!? But, he’s
so young.  There’s got to be something to that.
  Resolving to
figure that out later, I shrug off the awkward e-mail and try to gather my wits
about me.  Now, feeling even more intimidated, I hit print and head
towards the conference room, laptop in tow.

~~~~~

Standing at the entrance of the
conference room I’m entranced by the amazing view of the Las Vegas strip. 
The twinkling lights are the perfect backdrop as I stand in appreciation. 
I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it yesterday, but then again I was dealing
with Autumn and her holier than thou attitude.

Facing the vast windows, I catch
him looking out into the distance.  Appearing deep in thought, his
muscular hands form a steeple, resting against his pouty lips.  His
intense gaze remains fixated on the glowing lights miles away.  What I
wouldn’t give to know what he’s thinking.  I would ask him, but I’m afraid
of how he’d react.  Instead, I try to remain quiet for as long as
possible, drinking him in.

After a moment of silence, I take
a deep breath, before approaching the oak conference table.  He must have
heard me, because just as I reach the table, he swivels his black leather chair
to face me.  My first instinct is to avoid eye contact and begin searching
the floor to ceiling windows next to the large flat panel television mounted on
the wall.  For what, I don’t know.  But, at least for this moment, it
keeps me calm.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”  His
words are a surprise.  I wasn’t expecting small talk.

“It’s breathtaking.  I’m
surprised any work gets done in here.”  Standing, he places the palms of
his large hands on the conference table, each finger flexing against the light
oak.  Why am I not surprised that his fingers are well manicured? 
What is surprising though, is the light scars brimming his knuckles.  My
first assumption is manual labor, but for some reason it doesn’t seem to fit
his character.  The other nice tidbit of information I’ve gathered is that
he’s missing a wedding ring.  There appears to be no Mrs…

The sight of his hands sends my
mind into a sexual tailspin.  I can imagine them running over the length
of my body, caressing every inch with thorough precision.  I shake my head
and sigh.  It’s been years since I’ve been in a sexual relationship, so
I’m going to blame it on the hormones.  It feels as if they’re in hyper
drive and completely focused on him, making it nearly impossible to concentrate
any time he’s near.  My need for merciless pleasure will have to be placed
on the backburner.  I can’t mess any of this up.

Shuffling through the paperwork,
he absentmindedly pulls out a chair for me, not breaking his
concentration.  Always the gentleman.  “Sit, I’ll need you to take
good notes.”  I was beginning to think his species was extinct, until he
makes comments like that.  He’s so demanding, but instead of pouting, I
thank him and get right down to organizing the documents he laid in front of
me, before opening the laptop.

The meeting lasts for several
hours, giving me extra opportunities to closely examine him.  In a matter
of a few hours I learned three things about him.  One, his lips form a
pout when he’s deep in thought, bringing even more attention to his dimples
than I needed.  Two, he’s educated and his eloquent speech is another
strike against my resolve to stay away from him.  Third, he’s the most
stubborn and inpatient man I’ve ever met.  Constantly shooting off
directions, he took over the mouse every chance he got.  Every time he got
impatient, my level of frustration practically shot through the roof.  I
know this is work, and I’m trying real hard not to take it personal, but he’s
making it difficult.

My phone vibrates against the
table and my eyes dart toward the screen, revealing a text from Cole.

*Pretty soon,
I’m going to think you’re ignoring me. I thought you got off at 5. Where are
you? Don’t make me file a missing person’s report.*

Biting the inside of my cheek, I
take a moment to think of a response, but think twice when I see him out of the
corner of my eye, glancing at my screen.  His eyes scan the message as his
lips form his famous stern line.  Quickly, I reach over, placing my phone
into my lap.

“If you can pry yourself from your
phone, we may be able to finish and get out of here at a decent time.” 
He’s
clearly irritated.

“Sorry…”  Frowning, I place
my phone back on the table, screen side down, making a mental note not to check
messages around him.  So not worth it!

I’m nervous as we return our
attention back to the report.  When he’s around, my mind doesn’t work
right.

“The formula is wrong in that
cell, that’s why the numbers aren’t adding up.  You know what, just move
over, I’ll do it.”  I push the chair away, but not before his hand brushes
against mine, sending a jolt of energy through my body.  Huffing and
puffing he grabs the mouse and forcefully pushes it against the table. 
Poor
mouse.
  “What in the hell did you do?!  This is all wrong!”

My patience is exhausted and my
common sense left hours ago.  In a moment of weakness I erupt.  “You
know what…that’s it!” I speak up, irritation laced in every word.  He
stills.

Realizing my outburst, I pivot my
chair only to give myself a clear beeline for the window.  I need to get out
of his space, clear my mind and calm my breathing.  Reaching the window, I
close my eyes and relinquish the fact I just yelled at my boss. 
Shit…shit…shit! 
What in the fuck did you just do, Ely?
  I’m completely mortified that
I allowed myself to get caught up in the moment.  I don’t know what it is
about him, but he pushes my buttons. 
I’m sure to get fired over
this.  Good Job!

“Excuse me?”  His voice is
not as rough as I expected, but what’s the saying?  There’s always calm
before the storm?  That sounds about right.  But, his tone gives me
some hope I may be able to repair the damage I’ve done.

“It’s just…you…I’m…I’m not
incompetent.  It’s only my second day and you make me nervous.” 
Unable to see his facial expression I pause, hoping that he forgives my
outburst and ignores my lapse of judgment.  Expressing how you feel around
your superior, on your second day, is probably not the way to win brownie
points.  After a few more moments of pouting, I risk rejection and turn to
face him.  His soft, full lips are slightly parted, his eyebrows furrowed
as he stares at the computer screen.

“Let’s just finish so we can get
out of here.  I’m sure you have things to do.”  Ignoring my
confession, he pushes away from the computer, giving me control once
again.  Gently, I place my fingers on the mouse, mimicking a petting
motion.  With a confused look, he shakes his head before a tiny smirk
touches the corner of his lips. 
Whew…crisis averted.  I think.

We spend the next hour finalizing
the action plan for the upcoming internal audit and complete the
PowerPoint.  We labored in silence, which worked quite well as we both
operated in sync without speaking.  No longer seething with irritation,
his attitude subsided and he returned to his indifferent self.  This is
not how I wanted the night to go.

With the minutes ticking by, the
silence is maddening, and I have to break the tension or I’m going to
scream.  “Mr. James, how long have you been with the company?”
 It’s
a perfectly innocent question, and work related, so he shouldn’t get upset with
me.

With his attention still focused
on the computer screen he answers, “Eight years, Ms. Hart.”

“How did you get your position so
quickly?”  My question takes him by surprise, as he moves just enough in
his seat to make him look uncomfortable.

“Attention to detail…being
attentive to needs, and hours, upon hours of hard work,” he says slyly, with
one brow raised as a look of darkness creeps in.  That was a slightly
evasive, if not sexual, answer.

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind me
asking,” I reply, reaching for the ring on my middle finger.  When my
nerves get the best of me, I find myself unconsciously toying with the gold
band my mother gave me.  Somehow it gives me comfort.

“Next time, how about asking my
permission
before
asking the question,” he teases, a sexy grin gliding
across his lips.  For some reason, that grin gives me an inclination that
I really don’t know who I’m dealing with.  I’ve never been attracted to
the “bad boy,” and can honestly say I never understood the attraction. 
But now, now I understand.  My sister dated a few in high school and they
all turned out to be heartbreakers, so I always vowed to stay away from that
type of guy.  But even though my subconscious is screaming for me to run
in the opposite direction, my body wants him.

“I didn’t mean to pry. 
You…you just seem young and I’m always open for career advice.”

“How about you get more than two
days under your belt before attempting to take my job,” he jokes, evading any
concrete answers.

With his mood lifted, we work for
another thirty minutes and decide to call it a night.  Collecting our
notes, I make a list of tasks I need to complete and gather my things.

“Do you have someone picking you
up?” he asks, turning off the lights in the conference room, walking with me
towards the elevators.

“No, I drove.  My car is in
the parking garage.”

“I’ll walk you.  It’s dark
and you shouldn’t go unattended.”

The ride to the first floor is
quiet.  Both of us stand at opposite ends of the elevator, staring at the
numbers above the door.  Feeling very aware of him, my hands feel like
pins and needles, as we wait with anticipation of the ground floor.  My
heart skips numerous beats, unable to calm myself, stealing glances sideways.

“The ex-boyfriend still hounding
you?”

“My
friend
is just
wondering where I am.  He knew I was supposed to be done with work at
five, and is just checking on me.”

“If he’s an ex, why is it any of
his concern?”  His question disarms me, and almost makes me want to ignore
him.  Almost.

“He’s my friend, and he cares
about me.  Do you just throw away your ex’s after you’re done with them,
without
thinking twice about their safety?”  I let the irritation slide into my
question. 
I’m sure he has more ex’s than he can count on his fingers,
and toes.

Ignoring me, we proceed further
into the garage.  I’m confused at his sudden interest in Cole.  He
doesn’t know him, and for that matter, he doesn’t know me.  Who is he to
judge?

“Here’s my car.  Thank you for
walking me.”

“Elyssa?”  Turning, I face
him just as I unlock my door.

“Yes?”

“Try not to talk to strangers…for
both of our sakes.”  And he’s gone.