“That ‘a girl.” He stands, and I automatically mimic him. “Come on, Clark. Let’s get some lunch. Then I’m sending you on a very important clandestine mission, operation: dry cleaning run. After that, I’ll chain you to a pile of correspondence that needs response. Mostly fan-mail and invitations which we will decline, with the occasional angry hippy protest letter, which we will ignore.”
That isn’t all I want him to chain me to.
Yikes. Down, girl.
“Boy,” I say with a dash of sarcasm, “You high-power types sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
He laughs, and some butterflies swirl in my belly. “Welcome to the glamorous world of Mr. King. Non-stop fun for everyone.”
“If you say so, sir. You’re the boss.”
“Yes, I am, aren’t I?”
Our eyes lock a little longer than necessary before he moves a hand to the small of my back to guide me to the elevators. His touch makes me hot all over.
That smile. Those eyes. The paycheck. Australia?!
Uh oh. It’s only day one and I definitely have a crush on the boss, on the new lifestyle, on everything.
Be cool, Ava. Be cool.
Chapter Five
Friday night rolls around faster than makes any sense.
Since Mr. King has insisted on picking me up at my apartment, Rachel is chewing gum and helping me curl my hair. She’s already done herself up, ready to head to the east side scene with her finance crew as soon as I leave. The bathroom is hot and I am sweating away most of my makeup already.
It almost feels like high school, when she forced me to go to prom with her. I smile, remembering the awkward night. She didn’t know I had a huge crush on her date, Chip Williams, the star quarterback of Huron High. Rachel just couldn’t fathom anyone skipping prom, wanted to protect me from “making a huge mistake” she knew I’d “regret for the rest of my life.”
She’d begged and pleaded and, when that failed, set up a date for me with my band nerd friend Andy McKnight behind my back. So I finally caved, let her dress me up, rode along in the limo and watched her and Chip make out all night.
And that is our relationship. I’m still humoring her. She’s still doing my hair and egging me on out of my comfort zone. Nothing has changed…except the world around us.
“You seem to be transitioning well,” Rachel says, jolting me out of my daydreams. “Accompanying him to a private event in the first week? He must like you.”
“Hm? Yeah. We’re getting along ok.”
“Maybe it’s a date.”
I roll my eyes. “Rachel. He’s my boss. Besides, I am not looking for anything with anyone right now. Gotta get my shit in order. Last thing I need is a guy.”
She says in a sing-song voice. “Bean and King-King, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-”
“Grow up Rach.”
“Know how I know you’ve got it bad for the boss man? You haven’t even been singing or playing. And you’re blushing.”
I sigh as she unwinds the curling iron, fanning my face for brief relief from the heat. She’s right. I haven’t done any music all week.
“It’s just a timing thing,” I say, frowning, hoping I’m right. “Been too tired to practice. Not used to the hours yet, but I’ll figure it out.”
“You always do. But yeah, he’s working you hard.” She says hard with a guttural groan, gyrating her hips. “So hard and rough and—”
“God, shut up!” We both giggle. “It’s not really hard, just…long.” That makes us giggle more. “Shut up! Oh my god, we’re twelve.” I force my face straight. “Tonight should be fun, though. Then, off to Australia!”
Rachel nods, dousing me with hairspray and standing back for a final inspection. “What club is it again?”
“He didn’t say. Something members only.”
The buzzer rings. “Must be him,” Rachel says, unplugging the curling iron. I help her sweep the makeup and hair stuff back into its Tupperware container.
“Whew, I’m a little nervous.”
“You look hot. Behave yourself.” She gives me a sweaty hug. “Guess I’ll see you later. Or not. I mean, if he invites you to his penthouse, you know what to do.”
I playfully punch her arm, grab my purse, and bolt out the door.
Gerard is standing by the sleek Lincoln town car idling at the curb. I’m a little surprised to see that he is the one driving us. It seems rather out of the line of an Administrative Coordinator’s usual duties.
I smile at him. “Hello Mr. Jones,” I say brightly.
He nods but doesn’t meet my eyes. “Miss Clark, good evening.”
His eyes are hooded and his expression blank. Obviously he’s not excited about a working Friday night, but he dispatches with the formalities flawlessly. With a flourish, he opens the passenger side door in the back and I scoot in, finding myself up close and personal with Mr. King.
“Welcome, Miss Clark,” says Mr. King, his iceberg eyes flitting over my sister-approved outfit. It’s fitted black from head to foot, and I am assured it’s both corporate and club appropriate. Not that I would know. “You look lovely this evening.”
Gerard slams the door behind me.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I hope you’ll excuse my secrecy about tonight,” says Mr. King. As he speaks, Gerard hops in the driver’s seat and we glide onto 125th street. “You see, this is rather an elite members-only club where the most powerful men in the world go to unwind. Tonight I have some delicate, personal business to transact, and it’s imperative that I have another set of sharp eyes with me. A beautiful lady doesn’t hurt my cause, either. You’re my good luck charm.”
He takes my hand and kisses it and I feel my whole body flush with even more heat, and also a little pleasure. There’s definitely attraction, and I know he can sense it too. Even in the dim lighting, I can see that Mr. King notices me blushing. Be cool, Ava. I take back my hand and turn to face the front, stoically.
“Gerard,” says Mr. King, “Will you increase the A/C in the back for us please.”
“Yes, sir.”
The sudden whoosh of cool air makes goose bumps flare over my exposed arms.
“Thank you,” I say, clutching my arms protectively around myself.