Page 78 of Hate You Up Close

Okay. I’ll be there in a few.

I sit at my desk for close to five minutes, pondering what he needs todiscusswith me. Elliot is never one to be formal about anything when it comes to me. I’m used to him walking right up to my desk and saying whatever the hell is on his mind.

I stand from my chair, slip my bare feet into my heels, straighten the waistband of my high-waisted slacks, and adjust my blazer. I take a deep breath before walking toward hisoffice.

The door is already open, and as soon as I walk through the entryway, his whiskey scent envelopes me.

He’s leaning back in his chair, looking like a whole-ass meal in his tailored suit. The top of his thighs peeks out from behind his desk, stretching the cotton of his dark, navy slacks. His arms are resting on either side of his chair, his strong hands and fingers gripping the armrest. Hands that I’ve imagined roaming my body more than I’d like to admit.

I take another step inside his office, clasping my hands behind my back and giving him a flat smile.

“Hi,” I say nervously, almost shitting my pants because I have no idea what this little meeting is about.

His golden eyes heat as his gaze slowly drags down my body and back up to my anxious eyes.

“Close the door and take a seat,” he demands in a gravelly tone.

Oh shit.

I’m getting fired. I’m getting fucking fired. He followed through on his threat and hired someone else.

All because of a glittery, pink vase.

Jesus Christ, Roxanne. Why didn't you just swallow your pride and take the damn flowers home?

I shut the door and walk on shaky legs to the chair across from his desk. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time. Once my ass hits the leather chair, I lift my eyes to meet his fierce stare.

What the hell is happening?

“What’s going on?” I ask weakly while clasping my hands together in my lap.

The corner of his lips tilt up in a smirk, like he knows he’s fucking with me.

“We’re going to be taking our first work trip,”he says in a chipper tone. “I want to discuss the logistics with you since it will be your first time traveling with the company.”

I close my eyes, exhaling an exacerbated breath, so relieved that I’m not about to lose my job. My only source of income.

“Thank God,” I exhale under my breath.

“What was that?” Elliot asks through furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” I shake my head. “Tell me more about the trip.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk and putting on his serious, business face.

“We’ll be traveling to California to meet with a client I’ve been trying to secure for years, Thomas Walton. He owns a handful of luxury hotels on the West Coast and is interested in signing a loan with Ace Financial for a brand-new, resort-style hotel in San Diego. He’s old school. Big on communication and eye contact. I’ll need you to take detailed notes during our meetings so I can give him my full attention. We will need impeccable documentation to put together a comprehensive loan package. It’s imperative that we secure this deal. We can’t miss a beat.”

“Sounds fun,” I nod. “I love California.”

His brows furrow.

“This isn't a vacation, Roxanne,” he sneers. “From the second the plane touches down in California, we’ll be either working or sleeping.”

“You’re such a fun-sucker,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I repeat. “You take the fun out of everything.”