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Eventually, he drops the file on his desk and regards me steadily, rubbing his thumb slowly back and forth across his lower lip.
“Not bad, Miss Callahan.” Despite his measured tone, there’s a begrudging edge to his lukewarm praise.
I stifle a frustrated frown. What is his problem with me? I can understand if he was surprised by my age, but with three years’ experience and a solid reference from my last job, it shouldn’t matter. Regardless, I’m not going down without a fight. This job—and the much-needed salary that comes with it—is too good to give up on just because my boss has a chip on his shoulder.
“Is there anything else I can help you with before your meeting?” I keep my tone even.
He glances down to the file in front of him, then back up at me. “No. I’ll go over this in more detail beforehand.”
“Do you need me to sit in and take notes?”
His eyes narrow and he slants his head. Then he picks up his pen and taps it on the dark wood of his desk. “Yes. Print out a dozen copies of the most recent market report and make sure the conference room on this floor is ready to go.”
“Yes, sir.” Ridiculously pleased that he didn’t brush me off, I let a wider, more genuine smile slip past the professionally serene expression I’ve been maintaining.
In response, his stare sharpens, so I quickly rein in my enthusiasm, determined not to give him any ammunition to get rid of me. Based on what I’ve seen of him today, being overly cheerful probably isn’t on his list of ideal assistant qualities.
Lips pressed together, I nod, then turn and leave. As soon as the heavy door closes behind me, I rush to my desk and print out the report he requested. Then I head to the executive conference room that Sophie pointed out on our tour.
Finding a carafe of water and a dozen glasses have been left on the sideboard, I set them out on the table and place a report at each position. Then I hustle back to my desk so I can quickly reread the notes I’ve taken. I can’t imagine I’ll be asked any questions, but I want to be prepared just in case.
Ten minutes later, Roman’s door opens, and he strides out—without the file. Did he memorize everything he needed, or was what I provided not useful?
My stomach sinks, but I quickly shove aside the unhelpful thought and stand, brushing my palms over my skirt. Without stopping, he glances back at me over his shoulder. “Don’t forget your tablet.”
This time I do roll my eyes. He must really think I’m a novice if he’s giving me such basic instructions. Tablet in hand, I follow behind him. Unfortunately, from this perspective, it’simpossible not to notice the way his suit jacket stretches across his shoulders or how his dark hair curls just slightly at the back.
How soft would those strands feel between my fingers?
I give my head an abrupt shake to pull my mind back from where it’s wandered to, following it up with a mental wrist slap. That’s the first and last inappropriate thought about my boss I’ll let distract me.
The conference room is now full of serious-looking men and women seated around the table, most of them reviewing the report I laid out. Roman takes the chair at the head of the table, then gestures to an empty one just down from him.
I sit, politely returning the smile of the man next to me, then place my tablet on the table, ready to take notes.
Roman clears his throat, and immediately, all eyes are on him. His gaze sweeps the room, briefly resting on me. Another odd little shiver traces its way down my spine before he moves on, his expression as unreadable as ever.
“All right,” he says. “Let’s begin.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
ROMAN
Ilean forward, making sure everyone’s attention is on me before speaking. “The focus of today’s meeting is the proposed acquisition of EcoTech Building Solutions. This isn’t just about expanding our portfolio—it’s about solidifying our leadership in sustainable commercial development. EcoTech’s breakthroughs in green technology are game changers. Integrating them into our operations could significantly reduce our carbon footprint and strengthen our competitive edge.”
Most of the team nods in agreement. When I first broached the acquisition a month ago, a few of them resisted, thinking there was nothing wrong with how we’d been doing business. That there was no need to change or grow. But after presenting data to back up my case, most have fallen into line.
Still, I hammer the point home.
“You’ll see in the report in front of you that the global shift toward sustainability isn’t a passing trend; it’s a pivot point for our industry. Regulatory pressure and consumer demands are reshaping the market. Companies that lead in this space won’t just benefit from significant market growth—they’ll set the standards for years to come.”
Margo, our chief strategy officer, straightens, silently signaling for permission to interrupt. I give her a nod.
“Integrating new technology is crucial, but it has to enhance our operations, not complicate them.”
I incline my head in acknowledgment. “That’s why our proposal will include a phased integration. EcoTech will initially operate independently to preserve its culture of innovation. Meanwhile, we’ll form cross-functional teams to blend their technologies with ours, ensuring a seamless transition that capitalizes on the strengths of both companies.”
Not for the first time during this meeting, my gaze lands on Chloe, whose eyes are fixed on her tablet as she takes notes. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, and her plump lower lip is caught between her teeth.