The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair #1)(6)

“Dominic Aspen. It’s nice to meet you.” He extends his hand toward me, and I take it, shaking it firmly twice.

“I’m Presley Harper. I’m happy to be here.”

“Are you ready? I’ll show you to your work space.” His voice is so deep and rich, little goose bumps break out over my arms.

I nod. “Let’s do it.” Oh my God, did that sound sexual? “I didn’t mean do it. I just meant, yes, let’s go upstairs. Not to your place or anything.” I stammer, sure that my face is as red as a tomato.

Seeming amused by me and my obvious lack of a filter, Dominic only smiles. “This way.”

Rather than wait for the elevator with the others, Dominic turns left out of the conference room and we duck into a stairwell that requires a special keycard to access.

We head up one flight of stairs and then enter what appears to be an office area, complete with rows of tidy gray cubicles, a wall of copy machines and printers, and a cluster of offices tucked into corners and lining the far wall. I get the sense that I’m looking at my new home away from home, and I like it. There’s a serious, yet professional vibe in the air around us as the support staff busily tap away at keyboards in front of them.

“This will be your desk,” Dominic says, stopping beside a small gray cubicle in the center of the room.

This is it, my home away from home for the next three months. I take a deep breath and nod. “Great. I’m ready to get started.”

Dominic watches me with curiosity, a smirk tugging up his lips while my heart continues hammering away.





Chapter Three


Dominic



Not all of her hair fits into the thin band tying up Presley’s ponytail. A few pieces have escaped, framing her face. I can tell she’d rather it all fit neatly back by the way she efficiently tucks the strands behind her ears. She has delicate features, and her petite frame sits perched on the chair just outside my office. It’s a little more distracting than I realized it would be.

After I left her to review our business history, she pulled her hair back and dug straight in, a look of concentration on her face.

I emailed her the necessary files for her perusal—who we deal with, how our staff is organized, which department handles which process, all the basics. There’s no better way for her to learn than to read, and I have too many emails in my in-box to walk her through it all. She doesn’t seem like the type who needs hand-holding anyway.

Even from across the office, I can see her brow furrowed in deep concentration. I realize I haven’t read a single email since I sent her the files. I’ve been too preoccupied with staring at my newest hire.

Goddamn.

Presley really does look young. She can’t be much older than legal drinking age. I pull up her résumé on my computer and skim over it for the second time today.

Brown graduate. A rival. I smirk.

GPA of 4.0. To be expected.

Won a national coding competition. Interesting.

She’s impressive, to say the least, but not any more so than the other three candidates. Then, why was it that as soon as she walked in the room, I wanted her as my personal intern?

I swallow the obvious answer with a sip of scalding coffee. I’m attracted to her.

Perhaps appointing her as my personal intern wasn’t the wisest idea. It’s obvious that my dick was making the executive decisions this time. I can’t afford distractions. Then I realize it’s not too late to change my mind.

I begin drafting an email to Beth.



Beth –

Please reassign Presley until further notice. Not the right fit. Perhaps trade with Oliver?

Dom



“I’m done.”

Before I can click SEND, Presley is standing in my doorway, waiting for my response.

She’s done? “Already?”

“Yes.”

That’s hard to believe. I gave her dozens of files containing documents of thirty or more pages each.

I close out of the email without sending it as she walks closer. “How could you get through those so quickly?”

“I reached out to Beth last week and asked for any learning materials. She shared all the ones that aren’t your private office affairs with me. I was able to get through the confidential documents in an hour. I figure my time here shouldn’t be spent learning how to spend my time here. I’d rather be of use to you.”

Wow.

“I’m impressed,” I say with a genuine smile. Is that a blush I see on her cheeks?

“It’s basic preparatory work. Where should we begin?”

In moments, Presley is standing over my shoulder as I show her the online database she’ll be using to access our business files. I explain to her our current hotel operations across the nation, not worrying about simplifying any language. She asks the right questions and admits when she’d like a recap on a particular subject. By the end, she offers to compile a spreadsheet of our favorite food and beverage vendors to compare prices. I’m sold.

“I’ll just need to track down the account numbers so I can make the inquiries and get you some quotes. I should have it done in the next forty-eight hours.”

“This would have been done already, but our last director of operations had a sudden exit from the company—” I stop short. No need to explain yourself to a twenty-two-year-old intern.