Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,6

the word “kismet” popped into Emelia’s head, she dismissed it. Couldn’t let thoughts like that run wild—that’s how she got in trouble the last time.

After the way things had ended with her fiancé, the last thing she needed was to hop into another relationship.

Trixie Fox, the secretary who was supposed to help Emelia settle in to her new job, stood on the opposite side of the large desk, wagging her finger from one side to the other. Emelia could barely make out Trixie’s words over the pounding in her head—the sound was muffled and jumbled like the droning teacher from the Peanuts television shows.

“Your job is to take care of the daily to-do list, whether it says to pick up Mr. Wilder’s dry cleaning, shop for stationery, or coordinate the next office party,” whaa-whaa-whaa, “make sure you have a cup of extra-hot black coffee ready to hand him the moment he arrives,” whappity-whaa-wha-wha, “answer the phone,” mwa-wha-mwa-wha-aah, “leave all messages on his desk. That’s about it.”

Emelia tried to pay attention to every word, but she went rigid at the mention of Mr. Wilder’s name. “This is…” She craned her neck around and stared at the tiny gold plate on the door to her right. Engraved on it were two stenciled black words, and one undeniable title: Russell Wilder, CEO. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope, not kidding. Didn’t they tell you who you’d be working for?”

Groaning, Emelia slammed her face into her hands, then shook her head. Blond chunks of hair dangled over the desk, tickling her arms. She wasn’t ready for this. Not today. Today’s mission was to locate Drake, and she’d planned on it taking up her entire day. She’d pushed off Mission Interrogate Wilder until tomorrow…

She looked up, feeling more drained than she had in years. “The agency said top floor. If I didn’t have the headache from hell, I might’ve figured.”

Trixie spun around her desk and plopped into the leather seat. As her hazel eyes skimmed over the computer screen, her fingers flew over the keyboard. “Don’t know what you did to get transferred here, but I’ve never seen a newbie move up the ranks that quickly. You’ll be able to use this on your résumé for years…if he likes you.”

Emelia laughed into a snort. “I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that.”

Not after the way she planned to grill him. Had she really been assigned as Mr. Wilder’s secretary? Could it have been that easy? After the longest month of her life, slaving away at whatever petty job the Wilder Financial guppies asked her to do, she was finally going to be able to meet Mr. Wilder face-to-face. She was finally going to get some solid answers.

“I hear you moved up from the mail room,” Trixie said, wildly scribbling a note. Long, narrow fingers clutched a silver pen, showing off unnaturally square nails gel-shellacked with red, orange, and yellow shades of autumn. “I’m guessing from your headache that you had a good time at the Halloween party last night?”

Emelia’s cheeks flushed hot as she remembered the smoldering passion behind Drake’s dark eyes. “I did, actually.”

“Did you catch a glimpse of Mr. Wilder?”

“No, wish I had.”

She’d planned to seduce Mr. Wilder last night, but it was only to get him into a vulnerable position so he would have to hear her out. He hadn’t shown up at the party, which was for the better, as long as she could hunt down Drake in Mr. Wilder’s labyrinth of a building. Maybe they could find a janitor’s closet and pretend it was a wine cellar. Seeking out a relationship was seriously off Emelia’s radar, but playing Five Minutes in Heaven with Drake? Sounded like a perfect way to turn Monday into Funday.

“Well, you’ll meet him today, for sure. As soon as he’s out of his meeting with Mr. Bloomfield, he’ll want to meet you. He always makes a point to personally meet every person on his staff.”

Moment of truth.

Emelia swallowed hard as her insides squirmed. What was she so nervous about? This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To meet him and get an apology for illegally buying her bar, then refusing her the common decency of a meeting to straighten things out. Okay, so she wanted to see him suffer, just a little…but it was only to match what he’d put her through the last couple months.

“Peeeerrrfect timing.” Trixie’s sarcasm rang clear. She leaned back, throwing her arms behind her head. “I forgot to drop off