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ordered efficiency. When it came to dealing with so much money, she knew

that sloppiness only caused problems, so she was surprised at the lack of

order, even in the positions near the top.

“God, I hope it settles in,” she muttered to herself. She slapped open the

first file and was about to start reading through the application again, going

over any details she might have missed, when she sensed another shadow

looming near her doorway.

She wrenched her neck up to find Charles standing there. He was in his

early forties, single, and intent on hitting on every single being who had a

vagina in the office. It was especially annoying for Christina, who valued

professionalism in every bit of her demeanor when she was at work. Even

though the guy was an accountant, the last thing he seemed to be interested

in was numbers. Unless numbers meant getting someone’s digits.

“Hey, Christi,” Charles said in his obnoxious tone while his eyes raked

over her form, landing on her breasts.

Christina was wearing a crisp white blouse, but it was almost

completely covered by the black tailored jacket she had on. It matched her

black pencil skirt and black heels. Her jet-black hair was twisted into an

immaculate knot at the back of her head. Her makeup was tasteful. There

was nothing to distinguish her from anyone else here, and she certainly

didn’t give off the secretary fantasy. She was meticulous about her

wardrobe and made sure that nothing was too short or too tight.

Still, somehow Charles made her feel that she was sitting behind her

desk in nothing more than a wet white t-shirt and a little plaid schoolgirl

skirt.

“It’s Christina, actually,” she corrected in a low tone, even though she

offered a cool smile. “I’m actually busy going over these files. Now really

isn’t a good time.”

“I thought I’d see if you wanted to come to lunch with us,” Charles

droned on, still talking to her chest, as though the damned thing had