Talking Dirty with the CEO - By Jackie Ashenden Page 0,19
escaped the pages of Italian Vogue sauntered past, and Christie scowled even harder. Oh bollocks. Was she supposed to have dressed up for this? If so, Ben hadn’t told her. She’d just chucked on what she’d normally wear to a tech function—T-shirt, jeans, and Docs. Yes, the T-shirt was a limited edition Death’s Head tour T-shirt, the jeans were skinny, and her Docs purple velvet, but clearly that said special to nobody else but her.
Too bad. She wasn’t going to regret refusing Marisa’s help with finding a “suitable outfit,” either. After the stretchy black dress debacle, she had no intention of letting her friend make any more clothing choices for her.
Debacle? Joseph wasn’t able to take his eyes off your legs…
Pushing the thought out her head, Christie scanned the crowd looking for people she knew and sure enough, after a couple of minutes she spotted some colleagues from a rival magazine. Taking a glass of champagne, she threaded her way through the knots of people toward her friends. They greeted her with friendly smiles, and soon enough they’d all gotten into a deeply interesting discussion about the latest smartphone.
“So what do you think of this Ashton guy then?” Christie asked Tony, another colleague and fellow metal connoisseur, a while later.
She’d tried to do a bit of investigation about the Ashton Tech CEO before the launch, but information had been sparse. Unsurprisingly. He was known for being media shy, preferring to leave all that stuff to his company’s spokesperson. All she’d discovered was that he’d started his PC business from a friend’s garage while in his teens, and from there it had gone from strength to strength, becoming not just a force to be reckoned with in Australasia but in other parts of the world, too. Apparently he was based in Auckland but traveled a lot. And that was the extent of the information. She’d found a couple of official-looking pictures though, and she had to admit, for a technology CEO he was hot, if too clean-cut and expertly coiffed for her tastes.
“What do I think? I think the guy’s a freaking genius.” Tony waved the beer he was holding for emphasis. “Ashton Tech went from a garage start-up to a turnover in the billions in less than ten years. That’s genius in my book.”
“Sounds more like a work/life balance problem to me,” Christie muttered.
“Decide for yourself then.” Tony elbowed her. “His Highness is about to address the masses”
“Where?” she asked, craning around.
“Over there.” Tony pointed. “Interesting he’s made a personal appearance tonight. Must be important, I guess.”
A makeshift stage had been rigged up on one end of the ballroom, and she spotted a dark-haired man going up the steps. At first Christie couldn’t see him with the lights dimming. A spotlight came on as he walked over to the lectern and then there he was, standing in the center of the column of light like James T. Kirk ready to be beamed aboard the Enterprise.
Tall and broad in a very expensive-looking dark suit. Black hair expertly styled. A chiseled clean-shaven jawline and cheekbones to die for. He looked somehow hotter in real life than he did in those pictures. And also somehow… The nagging sense of familiarity gripped her.
Abruptly her heart stopped.
Sweet Jesus. What the bloody hell was uninhibited-sex-on-the-bathroom-vanity Joseph doing here?
Then, as her brain caught up with the rest of reality, she realized: gorgeous, uninhibited-sex-on-the-bathroom-vanity Joseph was Joseph Ashton of Ashton Technology. The owner of the company whose product was being launched with such hype tonight.
Christie’s glass of bubbly slipped through her nerveless fingers and smashed on the polished wooden floor.
Up on the stage, Joseph turned and she found she couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe. The whole ballroom seemed to fall silent.
She wanted to die.
But unfortunately death didn’t oblige her, so she had to stand there in agony, face flaming, as everyone stared at her. Including Joseph. And just when she thought her embarrassment would burn a hole through the floor, his attention shifted and he began to speak. As if he hadn’t seen her at all.
Waitstaff appeared, cleaning up the mess while Tony stared at her, puzzled.
“Are you okay? What was all that about?”
Her mouth felt dry. Her knees weak with shock.
“Nothing,” she croaked out. “Nothing at all.”
Nothing except for the fact that Joseph Ashton, head of a major company with a turnover in the billions, one of the most innovative IT companies in Australasia with a future that was going to go global, just happened to be