Her CEO - Flora Ferrari Page 0,1

twenty feet up, but it’s the narrowed, scornful eyes of everyone who’s ever told me I’m ‘just not what we’re looking for’ that I feel.

Meaning: We’re not ready for a thick set college graduate with no experience and anxiety as a hobby.

Idiot! Now Barbie and her gaggle of cheerleader friends will all be laughing about you for the rest of the day, probably the rest of the week.

I make definite plans to take the bus home and spend the rest of the day with pizza and a gallon of cookies and cream, binge watching anything that doesn’t have blonds or successful handsome men in it.

“Alyson! Alyson Bennet!”

I hear the strained call from behind me, an edge to it, filled with contempt but driven by something else.

Then the pecking, staccato sound of heels on the wide marble foyer.

Turning, I notice I’m not the only one to look.

It’s Malibu Barbie, waving my resume with what looks like half a latte and some mayonnaise from the trash can spilled down it, her eyes wild with a look of desperation that doesn’t make any sense.

Everybody in the foyer has stopped now, turning to look, but they’re not looking at Malibu Barbie.

Neither am I.

I’m looking past her, at the man standing by the open elevator, his hands folded across his front, his legs slightly apart. The man in the three thousand dollar suit, which he fills perfectly.

His dark hair is thick but styled to match the crispness of his suit. His chiseled jaw is pumping, twitching in time with the tapping of one of his impatient custom leather brogues.

But it’s his eyes that make me gasp. The invisible line between us suddenly running white hot all the way to the outline of my mound through my panties.

His smoldering look, far more intense than the huge photographic portrait hanging not far from him, which he dwarfs with his real life charisma and presence.

Eric Chambers.

Barbie snaps a heel, but keeps trotting, her pleading look makes me wonder if it’s the same person who made me feel so small just moments ago.

“I’m sorry. Ms. Bennet, I made a terrible mistake. Please forgive me,” she stammers, looking up to remember her lines, as if her very life depended on them.

“I-It’s Mr. Chambers. He’d like to see you now.”

Chapter Two

Eric

Twenty years. Almost half my life.

Working my way up from mail rat to ass-kisser to executive, then finally to CEO and major shareholder, buying out all the opposition to create one of the biggest companies in history.

It started with electrical cordage and now covers everything from baseball bats to baby formula.

My motto. Just make stuff that works. Make it last and people will fill their lives with everything you make.

And they have.

I should be standing at the window with a hard on, looking down on the world I’ve mastered. But it sometimes feels like it’s all for nothing.

A lonely ride to the top, perched on a throne built for two.

Human Resources has never been something that interested me, until today. I’ve come down to set the head of the hiring and firing department straight on a few things, taking a moment to look out the window, when I see her.

It’s like a switch has gone on, flooding my mind and soul with new and fresh information.

Filling my senses with something, even from this distance, I can tell that I want.

Tell what belongs to me before she’s even looked up.

And she does look up, right into my eyes.

I know she can’t really see me and I can only make out her shape from this height, but it’s the feeling I get that draws me to her. Her blond hair billows back as she stares up, making me consider the chances of two people looking at each other at the exact same moment from nine stories up.

It’s her. She’s here.

A low growl escapes me, my hand pressing on the cool glass before tracing her outline with my finger as I feel the stirrings of that hard on at the window after all.

There’s an invisible line, I can feel it. Coming from me and going straight to her, deep inside her and it makes me gasp when she lowers her head, walking towards the entrance.

Timothy Sloane, head of Human Resources for Chambers Inc. is perched next to his desk, droning something about quarterly figures when his eyes widen, his mouth frozen half open as I suddenly launch myself towards his desk.

In seconds I’ve hijacked his computer, shifting the screen from quarterly reports to live