Sleeping with the Boss (Anderson Brothers, #1)(4)
“I’ll shoot an email to her. You want to crash at my apartment since it’s closer than your house?”
He unbuttoned the next two buttons of his shirt. “No. I’m sleeping right here.”
“That’s not necessary. You’ll be more comfortable at my place.”
Comfortable. Will almost laughed. He had slept in bombed-out buildings, all-terrain vehicles, and the middle of the desert for years. A sofa was like a resort. “You go to Greece and make a deal. I’ll stay here and catch a spy.”
…
Claire heaved a relieved sigh as she settled into her desk chair. When Beverly the Beast had seen her come in late, she was sure she’d be fired but only got chewed out for irresponsible behavior. Maybe the old bat was chill because she knew Claire was only a temporary employee.
Beverly seemed much more disturbed by an email she received during their brief meeting that resulted in her shouting at her secretary to pull all personnel files. So disturbed, in fact, she simply sent Claire off with a stack of printed pages and the brusque command, “Fix this.” She knew her friend Heather was on friendly terms with Higgins the Hag and dealt with her a lot through the placement agency, but she just didn’t understand the appeal.
Through her open office door, Claire had a view of the lobby. It was a huge open space where the company sometimes held parties and even a smaller auction now and then. This morning, it held only a couple of antique settees and a table with a floral arrangement the size of a small car. Beyond that was a set of mahogany double doors. It was the office of Michael Anderson. Everyone seemed intimidated by him, but she’d never spoken to the man herself. His younger brother, Chance, was the company lawyer and worked on the floor below. He seemed nice enough the couple of times she’d run into him in the lobby or elevator. She had known there was a third brother who had returned from fighting overseas recently, but she’d never seen him until today, and holy crap what an eyeful he was. Her face grew warm when she pictured him in the elevator. Big and hot and… God, what a fiasco. Happy Monday.
Her own office was sparse, but everything in it was high-quality and efficient. She hadn’t bothered to give it a personal touch because, really, why bother? She’d be leaving for Egypt in a couple of weeks.
She thumbed through the documents on her desk and flicked the mouse to wake the computer up for her mindless chore. She’d been tasked with proofing and editing copy for sales brochures—a no-brainer task that would keep her distracted from the miserable events at the hospice last month.
She ran her fingers across the lent jacket lapel and took a deep breath, smiling as the smell of mint and something unmistakably masculine and delicious flooded through her. Yeah, editing this brochure could be a distraction from lots of things, like the tall, impossibly hot guy in the elevator who may or may not have seen her nearly naked butt when her skirt ripped. She took a deep breath and shifted in her chair.
At least the skirt had been an easy fix. It had torn cleanly down the seam. Nothing a little packing tape from the mailroom didn’t solve. From the outside, it looked perfect. From the inside, it was barely held together by whatever means available. She choked out a laugh. She was sitting on a metaphor for her life.
After opening a new document on the computer, she began entering the information on the item listed. Ugh. Whoever wrote the description was clueless. Run-on sentences, spelling errors—what a mess. She shook her head and dug in, relieved to be absorbed in something other than illness and death and screams of pain in the middle of the night. The screen blurred as tears filled her eyes. She missed her grandmother, Sissy, like crazy, but at least her suffering was over. Claire took a deep, shuddering breath. It was time to move on. As soon as that life insurance money hit her bank account, she was out of here and off to finally see the part of the world she’d studied and fantasized about her whole life. Then she’d begin living out the rest of her dream as an intern at the Cairo Museum under her favorite professor, Dr. Jahi. If things went as planned, she’d never come back to New York. Ever.
Glancing up, she caught sight of Will Anderson emerging from the double doors across the enormous lobby. Before he’d made more than six long, confident strides, Higgins the Hag headed him off and turned over a stack of files. He then disappeared back through the double doors. At least she knew where to find him to return his coat.
An hour or so later, movement drew her eye to the set of doors across the lobby again. Will backed through the threshold, his attention held by something or someone inside.
Mmm. What a fantastic view. Wide shoulders, trim waist, and yum, the way those pants fit over his tight…
He turned suddenly, and piercing blue eyes met hers as if he’d read her thoughts or something. One dark eyebrow arched and he smiled, confirming he knew she’d been checking him out.
Well, shit. Totally busted. She returned his smile in a failed attempt at nonchalance, then pretended to go back to work, eyes glued to her monitor. The words on the screen might as well have been in Greek, as her body responded to the man who’d smiled from across the lobby with a jolt of adrenaline that made her clothes feel too heavy and tight. What on earth was going on? Maybe being on her own for the first time was affecting her sense of reason—or jump-starting her hormones. “Do not look at him,” she muttered under her breath.
“Why not?”
Shit, shit, shit. How had he sneaked up so silently? A big man like that should lumber like a bear, not slink soundlessly.