Page 36

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says as she puts her lunch in the fridge.
The kitchen is a nice, big room with three cafe tables and about a dozen chairs. A fridge, a microwave, a coffee maker, and a kettle fill the space on the counter. There’s plenty of snacks and different kinds of drinks. Though there are no windows, the walls are decorated with pictures of a vineyard. I assume they are from the Godoys’ vineyard in Chile.
I try to smile as I take a couple of calming breaths, but I’m all jittery before heading to my office.
“Ms. Flores, good morning. I see you decided to be late today.”
I stop in my tracks as I see my boss leaning back against the front of my desk. He’s wearing a dark gray three-piece suit with a pink tie. His hair is perfectly coiffed—just the right amount of gel to make it look like he combed it without making it stiff. He’s freshly shaved this morning, and although he looks incredible, I must admit the scruff he sported back in Chile made him sexier.
He still looks good enough to eat, though.
“Oh, so now you’re mute?” he says, and the scowl that forms on his handsome face squashes the lust I was feeling a second ago.
“No, of course not. You just caught me by surprise. I was actually just brewing coffee and tea, in case you wanted some,” I say as heat creeps up my neck.
I can feel my face getting warmer by the second. Did he notice I was ogling him?
“I appreciate you trying to get stuff ready for me, but if I want a coffee or a tea, I can ask Samantha. Or anyone else.”
I frown.Why anyone but me?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Godoy, but as your assistant I felt bringing you a drink was a part of my job.”
“Executive assistant,” he corrects me.
I give him a curt smile. He’s not going to let this go, and I’m too damn stubborn to let it go, either.
“Fair enough. Why don’t you let me do it this one time, since I already brewed it? That way, I didn’t completely waste my time.”
He huffs, messing up his hair as he passes a hand over it a couple of times. “Fine, but hurry.” He starts walking toward his office. “And bring your tablet when you get back,” he says and shuts the door.
I release a deep breath. “So much for leaving a good first impression,” I murmur as I make my way back to the kitchen.
I prepare him a coffee just like my grandma used to drink it in the mornings back on her farm in Guarne, Colombia: dark roasted, no sugar, and a dash of cinnamon. If he feels he needs something sweet, he can have a cookie or two. He definitely needs some sweetness in his life.
I knock on his door before I go in. “Excuse me, Mr. Godoy.”
“Come in, Ms. Flores.”
As soon as I open the door, I’m taken aback by how powerful he looks behind that desk. He’s wearing glasses, and whatever he’s looking at on the computer screen has his undivided attention.
I add a bit more cadence to my step as I walk to his desk, setting down the tray with his coffee and a plate of my cookies.
“What’s this?” he asks as he inspects the cookies. The first one he grabs looks like a couple of pink disco balls with the wordsLet’s boogieon it.
“Oh, I bake cookies as a side gig, and thought I would bring you a platter to celebrate your first day back at work,” I say with way more enthusiasm than I see on his face.
“A side gig,” he deadpans.
I nod.
“So, let me get this straight. You work full time for me as an executive assistant.”
I nod.
“And you’re a single mom of a little girl?”
I nod again.