Just a Bit Dirty (Straight Guys #10)(7)

Miles was touched. Sofia knew about his stolen wallet and the fact that he was a little strapped for cash at the moment, since he hadn’t actually bothered to tell his family about his troubles.

“All right, go. He’s waiting.”

“Now?” Miles said, glancing at the door.

She laughed. “No, next week! Go, he isn’t a patient man.”

“That’s really encouraging,” Miles said dryly before squaring his shoulders and striding toward the door.

Here goes nothing.

He entered the office and closed the door carefully before looking at the man seated behind the massive oak desk.

Dark suit. Piercing blue eyes framed by dark eyelashes. Ian Caldwell.

Miles swallowed.

“Hello, I’m Miles Hardaway,” he said, his gaze dropping to Caldwell’s gray tie. A blue one would have suited him better, would have brought his eyes more. Not that a gray tie made his eyes unnoticeable; far from it. Caldwell’s eyes were strangely intense despite being completely unreadable. It was hard to look away from them, and Miles found his gaze being dragged back to them, against his will.

He’d never seen eyes so intense. Derek Rutledge’s black hawk-like gaze came close, but not quite.

The silence stretched.

And the longer it lasted, the more unsettled—and curious—Miles felt. Caldwell’s gaze definitely could be called a stare now, which didn’t make any sense. If he didn’t know better, he might think Caldwell was into him, but by all accounts, the man was completely straight.

Why are you looking at me?

Miles cleared his throat a little. “Is there something on my face, Mr. Caldwell?”

Still staring at him, Caldwell said, “You’re British, correct?”

“Whatever gave me away?” Miles quipped before he could stop himself.

Caldwell’s dark brows went up a little, as if he couldn’t believe that some lowly intern dared to joke with him.

Miles met his gaze unflinchingly. If Caldwell had a problem with it, he was welcome to fire him. Miles actually wouldn’t mind being fired, because then he wouldn’t have to spy on anyone and could tell the Rutledges with a clear conscience that he had tried, but alas, the guy was too much of a prick.

“Do you have any relatives in America?” Caldwell said, not taking the bait. His unnerving gaze remained fixed on Miles.

It was making him feel weird. Self-conscious. On edge.

“As far as I know, no,” Miles replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and trying not to fidget.

Caldwell made a thoughtful sound and finally looked away.

Miles breathed out. He glanced around the room before returning his eyes to Caldwell’s face.

It was a good face, he had to admit. Strong and handsome, the touch of gray in Caldwell’s dark hair adding something distinguished to his looks.

“Do I remind you of someone?” Miles said at last, breaking the silence again.

Caldwell’s gaze snapped back to him. His brows drew together. “You do, actually.”

Miles wondered if it would be rude to ask one’s boss who he reminded him of. He came to the conclusion that it would definitely be rude. He asked the question anyway. “Who?”

Caldwell’s face was blank. “My ex-wife. You could have been her male twin.”

Well, awkward.

Since Miles had no clue how the man felt about his ex-wife, he couldn’t be sure if it was a good thing or not. But considering the fact that she was an ex-wife, it was unlikely that Caldwell got warm and fuzzy feelings when he looked at him.

A grimace crossed Caldwell’s face. “Are you sure you aren’t related? Regina Travers?”

“Very sure. Born and raised in London, my entire family too. It’s actually the first time I’ve traveled overseas in my life.”

Caldwell eyed him in an assessing manner, as if he suspected Miles of lying.

Miles almost laughed. You’re suspecting me of the wrong thing.

Turning serious, he met the other man’s eyes and said, “I swear I’m not in any way related to your ex-wife, Mr. Caldwell. But if my presence bothers you, you should absolutely transfer me away. I’m just an intern.”

A strange emotion flickered in Caldwell’s eyes. “It doesn’t ‘bother’ me,” he said, his voice so cold it made Miles a little uncomfortable. “I couldn’t care less about my ex-wife.”

Right. That’s why you’ve been staring at me since I got here.

But Miles didn’t push. There were things no one liked to talk about, and ugly breakups were one of them.

“Then you still want me as your PA?”

“I still need an assistant, and my secretary assured me you can do the job adequately until my assistant can return to his job.”

Miles nodded. “May I ask about my job responsibilities?”

“You will organize meetings and appointments. You will remind me of them—”

“There are apps I can download on your phone for that.”

The glare he received from Caldwell for interrupting him—and daring to suggest an entirely reasonable, modern solution—would have made anyone squirm. But after decades of being on the receiving end of Zach’s stern looks, Miles was kind of desensitized to bossy personalities. Maybe he should introduce them to each other, he thought, amused.