Page 6 of Wolfish Player (Steamy Latte Reads Collection #2)

THE AUTHOR

HEATHER

“ T hat’s everything for now.” Theresa escorts me onto the top floor of the building an hour later. “I hope you’re as excited as I am about working here.”

“I am,” I say, and I actually mean it. I felt hints of inspiration when we walked through the marketing department, and despite the fact that the CEO has a questionable obsession with throwing wolf décor everywhere, this place seems perfect.

“Do you have any questions for me?” she asks.

“Not that I can think of at the moment.”

“Well, here’s my card if anything comes to mind,” she says. “I’ll go tell Mr. Wolfson that you’re ready for your formal interview and then?—”

“You’re done with the tour already, Theresa?” A deep voice sounds from behind, and I turn around to see if?—

Oh. My. God…

My brain short-circuits, and the floor falls away under my feet. Suddenly, the hallway feels like it’s closing in on me, and I’m convinced that this is a dream.

It has to be…

The asshole customer I served at the bar weeks ago is dressed in another expensive suit that fits like sin, his deep green eyes glint beneath the light—calculated, lethal, too perfect to belong to any man who plays fair.

No, no, no…

“Yes, yes, yes.” Theresa beams. “Heather Barrett is ready for her interview with you now.”

His eyes flick to mine and he blinks a few times, his jaw clenching as the seconds pass.

“You might want to step back, Theresa,” he says, his voice terse. “Miss Barrett might reach into her bag and throw her coffee on you.”

Just leave, Heather.

Do not pass go. Just effin leave.

“He’s been looking forward to bringing a new junior executive onboard.” Theresa clasps her hands, clearly not reading the room. “I know you’ll make one hell of a first impression on him.”

“She already has…” He extends his hand to me, and as much as I want to leave it hanging, my brain is firmly wired to escaping a potential dip into poverty, so I shake it.

A warm jolt rushes through my body and as if he can feel it too, his lips slowly part.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it!” Theresa should audition to voice a Disney princess. “Call me when you’re done so I can give Miss Barrett our usual thank-you bag.”

“Will do.” He slowly pulls his hand from mine, and I suddenly feel bereft.

We both watch her step onto the elevator, and as the doors begin to shut, I debate whether I should slide inside with her. I lean my shoulder, mentally calculating if I have enough time, but they snap shut too fast.

“I would say that it’s nice to see you again, Miss Barrett, but I think we both know that’s a lie.”

“Should I just uh—leave now?”

“Unless you want to stay and apologize for ruining my favorite tie,” he says. “I think that’s the least you can do.”

“So, since that’s not happening, we can just skip the interview?”

“I didn’t say that.” He’s staring at my lips. “We’ll still do that part.”

“Okay, great.”

Silence.

We stare at each other for several moments, the tension building with every second that passes between us.

“My office is behind you,” he says. “You should start walking that way if you want me to consider you for this job.”

“I have a feeling it’s a ‘no’ already.”

“I didn’t see ‘mind reader’ as your previous place of employment.”

“Did you see the part where I owe you a ton of book advance money?”

“Not on your résumé.” He smirks. “But I did notice it when I pulled up your file this morning. Now that you’ve brought it up, though, I honestly think you working here is a conflict of interest.”

“Because I would be using my salary to pay you back?”

“Because technically, I’m paying you twice. Which means I’m paying myself back for your failure to commit to the contract.”

“That’s…” I stall, trying to think of a way to respond to that, but this man’s deep and heated gaze is distracting me. I’m not firing back as easily as I’m used to, and I can feel my knees weakening under his stare.

“Mr. Wolfson,” I say, “with all due respect?—”

“You actually know what that word means?”

“Yes.” I nod. “With all due respect, you’d have to fill the position regardless, and I think you should at least give me a chance.”

“I could always sic my legal team on you for the money you owe instead.”

I bite my tongue before the words “Are you serious” can slip through my lips.

“I’m suffering from extreme writer’s block and it’ll probably be a while before I self-publish anything that earns me decent money.

” I really can’t afford to miss out on this.

“So, between the loss of income and the huge debt I owe you—plus my love for all things publishing—I would really appreciate it if you considered me for this job.”

He nods. “Okay.”

“Okay, as in, I should head to your office now for the interview?”

“No,” he says. “Okay, as in, I’ve heard enough and I’ll think about considering you for the position.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re giving me a true chance…”

“I’ve given you plenty of chances, Miss Barrett,” he says. “Ask your agent how many deadline extensions you have on the record.”

Silence.

“What was your favorite tie that I supposedly ruined made out of?” I can’t help but ask.

“Lotus silk, and you did ruin it.”

“Half a glass of vanilla mousse should come out easily,” I say. “It’s not ruined.”

“I hope you’re not calling me a liar, Miss Barrett.”

“Whoever washes your clothes is.” I have no reason to save face now. “It’ll come out with enzyme-free detergent.”

“Why should I trust your word on that?”

“Because I was fired from a laundry center weeks before the bartending job,” I say. “I remember the lesson on pricey clothes vividly.”

His lips curve into a smile that sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach. It makes my heart skip a step and I’m pretty sure my panties will be soaked if he keeps looking at me like this.

“I meant what I said about considering you, Miss Barrett.” He hits the down button, signaling for the elevator. “But we still have another conflict of interest.”

I shake my head, confused.

“And to be straight with you,” he says. “I’m not sure if this other issue is surmountable.”

“What other issue?”

He shoots me the most heated look of the day, slowly looking me up and down. I can feel him mentally undressing me out of my blouse and skirt, and I suck in a slow, unsteady breath.

“Oh…”

“Yes,” he says as the elevator doors open. “Oh.”

He gestures for me to step onto the car. “I’ll have Theresa meet you in the café on the fifth floor.”

“Can you give me a kind of timeline of when you’ll make your decision at least?” I don’t think his attraction to me would blur his decision in the end. “My next interview is at a pet store and the one after that is at Taco Bell…”

He doesn’t answer me, and his expression gives away nothing as the doors glide shut.