Love So Dark Billionaire Romance Duet - Stasia Black Page 0,1

football player way. No, he’s sleek. The kind of guy you imagine standing in the shadows. Mysterious. Maybe smoking a cigarette. Although the blond hair does throw off the image a little. He’s really blond, like me. And younger than I would’ve thought. I’d guess he’s in his thirties, but just barely.

“Miss…?” He waves a hand in my direction and I hurry forward, realizing I’ve just been standing here stupidly instead of introducing myself like a normal human.

Damn it, Cals. Don’t fuck this up!

My legs feel wobbly. I’ve probably only been waiting about five minutes, but it’s felt like fifty. God, I hope I don’t have obvious sweat stains under my pits already. I put on my extra-strength deodorant this morning, didn’t I?

“Miss Cruise. Calliope Cruise.” I smile enthusiastically and hold out my hand across his spotless white desk. “Or Callie. You can just call me Callie.”

Awesome, way to come across like a bumbling idiot. I just can’t believe I’m meeting him. And interviewing in person with him. Although it makes sense, if it’s him I’d be working directly with.

Bryce Gentry’s eyes finally make their way to me.

But they don’t make it all the way up to my face. My excitement deflates. His gaze lands firmly on the real estate that is my chest. Of course. Never my face.

I keep my hundred-watt smile though. It doesn’t falter even a few degrees. I don’t know why I thought for even a few moments it would be different with this guy. Fortune 500 company or not.

You don’t do the beauty pageant circuit without getting accustomed to men ogling you at every turn, even when you’re only in the running for Miss Teen California. Not when you sprout double D’s at fourteen.

He snaps out of it a lot quicker than most, at least. I slide my resume out of my faux leather folder and hand it to him.

I keep that smile plastered as I take a seat in the chair set across his desk from him. Then I jump in head first. “I was very excited when I saw the personal assistant job opening and the chance to work here. Bryce Information Technologies is at the cutting edge of short-range drone technology.” Ugh, I want to punch myself. Why am I rambling about shit he already knows about his company?

I pause only to take a breath before refocusing my pitch, “I have extensive experience in public relations and communications. I also have a background in computer science, specifically machine learning and robotics, and I will dedicate myself to this job one hundred and ten percent.”

I only realize that I’ve been slowly leaning further and further over his desk, all but entreating him as I finished my spiel. Shit. Don’t look like you’re begging, look like you’re offering him an opportunity he can’t afford to miss.

I pull down the edges of my suit coat and sit up straighter. “In short, I know I can be an asset, both to this company and to you personally.”

Mr. Gentry stares at me with an unreadable expression for several moments, his head slightly tilted. Shit. What is he thinking? And does he have to be so handsome? It’s worse now that I’m closer. Even his haircut looks expensive, trimmed short at the sides of his head and perfectly edging into the longer hair on top. His face is shaved totally smooth though. The kind that makes you want to run your fingers across to see if the skin is as soft as it looks.

Shit. I’m weirdly staring at his face. And his hair.

I look away even as beads of sweat break out on my brow. Am I smiling? I smile. Shit, that probably looks weird. I just started smiling all the sudden. I drop my lips into a straight line. Dammit. That probably looks even weirder. I wasn’t smiling, then I smiled, then I stopped again. What. The. Hell. Am. I. Doing? And what is he thinking?

He finally looks away from me only to glance down briefly at my resume. His mouth twitches. Was that a good mouth twitch or a bad mouth twitch?

“Background in Computer Science, you said? I’m to assume that’s from the undergraduate courses you listed, by name.” His eyebrows go up.

His deep voice doesn’t sound mocking, but I don’t see that there’s any other way to take it. I sit up straighter in my chair. “Yes.” My voice is firm.

“But you never actually finished college.” His eyes are brown. They meet mine. I still