Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,15
one of theirs.
Robin listened for a moment. “He asked not to be disturbed on his mobile either, but I promise to let him know you’ve called.”
She hung up. “Hi, Taylor. Mr. Wade is expecting you—go right in.” She pointed to an ominous set of dark, solid wood, double doors behind her.
“But I just came to drop off this envelope, and I’m sure Bennett is busy so…”
Robin’s large brown eyes almost popped from her head. Was it because Taylor didn’t want to stay?
Robin cleared her throat. “I’m sure Mr. Wade would be disappointed not to see you.” She stood and opened the doors to Bennett’s office, gesturing for Taylor to enter.
Welp. I guess an in-person apology will do. As for the other matter (whether or not she would work with him), that ought to be a fairly quick conversation.
“Thanks.” Taylor passed Robin, who remained in the doorway.
“Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, water?”
“No, thank you,” Taylor replied.
“Okay. I’ll be right outside if you change your mind. Mr. Wade’s helicopter should be touching down shortly.”
Taylor nodded and flashed a polite smile. That Robin lady was acting a little strange. Did she think Taylor had forgotten Bennett’s last name?
Once Taylor was alone in the sprawling office she swiveled on her heel to take it all in, admiring the floor-to-ceiling windows displaying a spectacular view of Coit Tower. She’d worked with plenty of CEOs in her past job so the lavish billionaire lifestyle wasn’t such a shock anymore; however, Bennett’s office definitely piqued her curiosity. Much like the private lobby outside his doors, his office looked more like that of a record producer or art dealer—dark hardwood floors, modern furniture, smoke gray walls with lively colored paintings, and a comfy looking sofa and armchair around a triangular glass coffee table. His desk was covered with models of tiny robotics and faced out toward one of the windows. She guessed if she had an office with a view overlooking the San Francisco cityscape, she would turn her desk that way, too.
But seeing this place—a complete contrast to the man’s cold personality—made her wonder what really made Bennett tick. Certainly, it was something he kept hidden.
Oh, God. I hope he’s not into Fifty Shades kind of stuff. She couldn’t go there. Not for any man. Okay, maybe the blindfolds ’n’ stuff, but not the butt plugs. Definitely not the butt plugs. Wait. Why are you even thinking about that? You’re not dating the gu—
“Ms. Reed, so nice to see you again,” said a deep voice.
Taylor turned with a gasp and felt her face instantly flush as if she’d been caught red-handed doing something naughty. Like thinking about butt plugs? Yikes. Shake it off.
“Is something the matter?” he asked. Today, his expression was somewhat neutral—not irate, not icy, and not overly friendly. If she had to guess, she’d say he was feeling cautious.
“Um. No.” She shook her head. “Why would you plug—I mean, say that?”
He stared at her with those irritatingly soul-piercing blue eyes. “You’re blushing. That’s why.”
Taylor was about to speak, but her mind hit a wall. A tall, hot, suited-man wall. He wore a baby blue dress shirt that matched his eyes and a very expensive-looking black suit made from a polished cotton that matched his tie. His pants were tailored to perfection, gently hugging the shape of his muscular thighs, all the way down the tapered legs. The suit was definitely built just for him. Every inch of him. Even the substantial bulge in his—
“Eh-hem,” Bennett cleared his throat and crossed his powerhouse arms over his broad chest, flashing a bit of those shiny black BW cufflinks and his expensive watch.
Taylor’s eyes snapped up to his face. No. You were not just checking out his gear. No. No. Nooo…
Taylor died quietly on the inside. “Here.” She shoved the large manila envelope toward him, but he didn’t bite.
“What’s inside?” His expression instantly soured, his dark brown brows pulling together.
“Take it.” She urged him to accept the envelope, but he simply walked past her to the sitting area.
“Please sit, Ms. Reed.” Bennett gestured toward the sofa and ran his hand down his black tie as he took a seat in the armchair.
Taylor held his gaze for a moment, noticing how the room now felt saturated with tension. It reminded her of those other moments right before he had said something offensive to throw her off balance. Well, I’m not afraid of him. I won’t let him get to me.