done, I curtsy again.
6
Bad Art Project (Magnus)
It’s almost time for the meeting with Woof Meow Chow, so I voice dictate the email I’m working on, press send, close my laptop, and grab my briefcase.
I have to say, things are better.
Before Sabrina Bristol, I couldn’t hold down an assistant to save my life, and the last girl wasn’t nearly as good as her first impression seemed. Finishing everything I dumped on her last night should’ve been impossible.
Somehow, she managed.
For the first time in over a month, my inbox isn’t overflowing. It’s like standing up from a weight machine after an hour at work, taking a deep breath with two hundred pounds of raw power still hanging over your head.
Miss Bristol is air. Room to breathe. And she’s whatever the hell else a man should say about a beautiful woman who does her job while looking like Venus incarnate.
When I arrive at the conference room, the entire C-level team is already there, including my new assistant. The dress she’s wearing today hugs her body the same way the sweater dress did the day I met her in an explosion of cinnamon rage.
But this is no sweater.
The creamy skin of her shoulder rests on either side of her delicate black dress straps.
Is it as soft as it looks?
Her face is expressive, this whirlwind of emotion and bright-eyed gumption.
I can always read her real thoughts in those big brown eyes, and I like it.
A grin spreads across my face. I wonder what her face would show if I ever traced my finger along the edge of the black fabric from the shoulder strap, diving right where it swoops above her cleavage.
Fuck.
Not thoughts I ought to be having about my new EA.
Not fantasies I should ever let myself have about any EA, especially this one.
When I realize I’m grinning, I set my face straight. I don’t need the CEO of Woof Meow Chow to come in and think I’m a pushover because I’m part Cheshire cat.
I’m also well aware I’ve been staring at Sabrina too long. She’s so alluring it’s hard to look away.
I tell my eyes I’m still in control, and as I peel my gaze off her, I notice her sleek black laptop has a sticker on it the size of my hand.
I shake my head.
We’re going to have a talk about office appearances.
She can’t come to an executive-level meeting with her laptop dressed up like it belongs to a damn college kid.
What is that thing anyway? It’s got pink feet and wide yellow eyes, but it’s...a bulb of garlic?
Why would garlic have feet and eyes? Who puts humanoid garlic on their laptop?
Shit. I’m going to be thinking about that all meeting long now.
Not the distraction I need.
There are three empty chairs across from me. I made sure my team left them so when Chester Stedfaust and his people get here, they’ll be right where I want them.
The man’s older, close to my father’s less-than-graceful middle age. In fact, they’re still friends, which doesn’t make this any easier.
He comes in flanked by two guys my age. The younger minions immediately take the leather seats across from me.
Stedfaust scans the table. His eyes linger on my twenty-three-year-old assistant longer than they should.
A biting urge to punch the guy burbles up, but thirty seconds ago I did the same thing.
He’s only human, and apparently, I’m only part jealous caveman.
The difference is, he finds one empty chair at the end of the table and takes it, so Sabrina is right beside him.
An alarm goes off in my head. Executives don’t normally come into this room and automatically plop down beside the youngest, prettiest, most inexperienced new girl.
Not sure what game he’s trying to play, but it’s not happening on my turf.
Client relations be damned.
“Miss Bristol, do you want to come closer?” I motion to the one seat left across from me.
She raises an eyebrow, then nods and begins moving her laptop.
“Easier for you to help with the presentation,” I add, since it’s clear she has no idea what’s going on.
She nods and takes the open seat.
The old man with the bulldog face at the end of the table looks disappointed.
Douchebag. I take care of my employees, even the childish ones with pink garlic stickers on their company laptops.
Sabrina opens the PowerPoint and syncs it to the projector, beaming it on the pull-down screen.
“Thank you all for coming today. I know you’re a busy man, Mr. Stedfaust, so I’ll get right to it,” I say, casting my