Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,196

a closer look at the photo. Everyone laughed.

“Alexa, Bethany, let’s pretend we’re professionals,” said Kait, the magazine’s editor in chief. “And be nice to the new girl. Actually, before we get into the good stuff, why don’t you introduce yourself to everyone?”

Kait stared down at me from the head of the conference table. Everyone quieted, and all eyes turned on me. Now they could all get a good look at this stupid outfit I’d chosen for my first day at work, this cheap, ill-fitting ridiculousness that made me look, I now realized, more fitted for sitting in a retirement home than sitting in the offices of one the top women’s magazines in the country. I’d overthought my wardrobe last night, something I did far too often, and never to good results.

“Um, hi,” I said, giving a funny little wave to the other women in the City Living department of the magazine, the same department I’d been hired to work in. I dropped my hand back in my lap. “Yeah, I'm Sophie Scott. From Maine. Um, I just graduated and I’m, well, really happy to be here.”

They kept looking at me, waiting, for what I had no idea. I could hear the a/c click on, and a chill went down my arm.

“Okay, then,” Kait said, looking bored and unimpressed. God, I was blowing it already. “That’s Sophie who graduated from Maine.”

“I didn’t graduate from—” I began.

“Now let’s get back to work,” Kait finished, not knowing or caring that she cut me off. Which was fine. I was there at Crush to do a great job. I’d listen, and learn, and work really hard. That was my goal. Do well, and move on to a better, more intellectual magazine or journal and work on something more substantive than the fluff they wrote here…

I think their big think piece for the newest issue was “how to have an orgasm in less than ten seconds.”

Oh, no, I suddenly thought. What if I had to write an orgasm story someday soon? I slunk down in my seat a little lower, not wanting anyone to look at me for any reason. It was my first editorial meeting, and I was there to listen. Nothing more.

“Back to The Panty Dropper,” Kait said, pointing to the photo before me. “We all know who he is—or do we? Sophie, do you know who that man is?”

I looked back at the photo before me. It showed a man in a slim blue suit and dark sunglasses walking purposefully across a street. Frankly, it looked like a fashion shot for the magazine, but it was a paparazzi shot. From the full-body picture it was clear this guy was fit—I could practically see the muscles in his thighs and biceps beneath the tailored suit. His dark brown hair was thick and wavy. His jaw was hard and defined—like the rest of him, if pictures don’t lie. He was incredibly handsome.

But as to who, exactly, he was? I didn’t know. But I didn’t want the others to know that I was clueless.

“Right, the panty dropper,” I began. “He’s that guy, everyone knows him.” I nod my head enthusiastically, as if what I’m saying actually means something. “He’s that really famous guy, he’s rich, successful…” Looking at the picture, I could just see panties falling out of his pocket because he was so successful. At his job. Selling panties?

I could already hear Alexa and Bethany across the conference table snickering at me as I spun my wheels.

Kait let out a deep, disappointed sigh. She leaned across the table and took the picture from before me. “This, as most of you know, is Leo Armstrong, twenty-seven, the most sought-after bachelor in all of L.A. and the head of relative newcomer Epix Studios.”

“Also their youngest head in history,” said Bethany. Unlike me, she was dressed simply and fashionably in a slim, cap-sleeved green dress. I tugged on the collar of my shirt, a new level of discomfort filling me.

“I’d like to give him head,” muttered Alexa, and none too quietly either. They barely tried to stifle their laughs.

Kait ignored them. “Leo Armstrong is the president of Epix Studios. Every girl L.A., from the fledging starlet to the seasoned Oscar winner wants to sleep with him or at least get an audition with him—”

“On his couch,” said Alexa, and Bethany swatted her arm.

“And of all the women he’s dated,” Kait continued, “and there have been a lot, no one knows anything about him personally. There’s never been