the receptionist.”
“Nice to meet you, Amanda,” I say.
“Mark’s having breakfast with Ricco this morning to discuss
last night’s event.” She motions with her head. “I’ll show you your new
office.”
I hesitate before following, and at the risk of offending
Amanda, turn and lock the door. I give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’m an
art fanatic and the idea of someone busting in here and stealing some of the
art is enough to make me downright nauseous.”
She pales visibly. “Thank you. Mark would have been furious
to find it unlocked.”
The discomfort and true fear that rolls off of her is
disconcerting. I know right then that the protectiveness I had felt for her
last night was going to become a common theme.
I fall into step with Amanda and we head down the narrow
hallway, behind the art displays. “Mark’s a tough boss, I take it?”
She gives me a quick glance. “He’s rich, good looking, and
pretty much perfect. That’s what he expects here, too. I’m not always so good
at being perfect.”
“Other people’s perfection is a facade we create when we are
second guessing ourselves,” I tell her, but deep down, even in the short
meeting I had with Mark, I agree with her assessment of him. Well, except the
rich part. I have no idea if he has money, but if he does, it’s not from simply
managing an art gallery.
“Hmmm,” Amanda murmurs skeptically, “I guess I do second
guess myself around him, but only because he’s so intimidating. When the man
looks at me I feel like I’m going to come unglued.”
I picture those intense gray eyes of his, and just the idea
of seeing Mark again has my adrenaline racing and I am not quite in touch with
myself enough right now to know why. Since I have no intention of sharing this
with Amanda, I smile with encouragement instead. “I bet we can make him a
little less intimidating if we stick together.”
She gives me a bright smile. “I like that idea.”
I warm at her response, and the school teacher and nurturer
in me is certain I am so going to be her Mama Bear.
We enter another hallway that is lined with various works of
art that I barely refrain from inspecting. There will be time for that later.
“I’ll introduce you to the staff when they arrive,” Amanda
informs me. “There are seven of us total aside from you, two of whom are
part-time interns. They’re all coming in late after working last night’s
event.”
“How’d you get so lucky to work early?” I ask as we stop at
a doorway I assume leads to the offices.
She cut me another sideways look. “I spilled a glass of wine
on a very important client last night. It’s my punishment.”
My brows dip and a chill slides down my spine. “Punishment?”
She keys in a password on an entry panel, before turning her
attention back to me. The smile of moments before has disappeared. ”Mark’s big
on punishment.” She starts walking and forces me to follow and I have the
distinct impression she doesn’t want to give me the chance to ask for more
specifics.
We pass several dark offices before she pauses at a door and
flips on the light. “You’ll be working in Rebecca’s office.”
I don’t move. I stand there, feeling icy cold, as I remember
the journal entry from the night before. Y ou know the rules, you know I have
to punish you.
Chapter Six
I walk into Rebecca’s office and the scent of roses flares
in my nostrils. Searching the room, I find a small candle on the shiny cherry
wood desk that while not burning, seems the logical source of the sweet floral
perfume. The little personal touch I assume to be Rebecca’s reminds me that I
am here to find her, and punches me in the gut when it should be encouraging, a
sign of her return. Searching for more of that encouragement I should be
feeling, I glance at the two bookshelves to my right, where various art books
are displayed on stands and a dozen or so others are shelved, and find
“Nice to meet you, Amanda,” I say.
“Mark’s having breakfast with Ricco this morning to discuss
last night’s event.” She motions with her head. “I’ll show you your new
office.”
I hesitate before following, and at the risk of offending
Amanda, turn and lock the door. I give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’m an
art fanatic and the idea of someone busting in here and stealing some of the
art is enough to make me downright nauseous.”
She pales visibly. “Thank you. Mark would have been furious
to find it unlocked.”
The discomfort and true fear that rolls off of her is
disconcerting. I know right then that the protectiveness I had felt for her
last night was going to become a common theme.
I fall into step with Amanda and we head down the narrow
hallway, behind the art displays. “Mark’s a tough boss, I take it?”
She gives me a quick glance. “He’s rich, good looking, and
pretty much perfect. That’s what he expects here, too. I’m not always so good
at being perfect.”
“Other people’s perfection is a facade we create when we are
second guessing ourselves,” I tell her, but deep down, even in the short
meeting I had with Mark, I agree with her assessment of him. Well, except the
rich part. I have no idea if he has money, but if he does, it’s not from simply
managing an art gallery.
“Hmmm,” Amanda murmurs skeptically, “I guess I do second
guess myself around him, but only because he’s so intimidating. When the man
looks at me I feel like I’m going to come unglued.”
I picture those intense gray eyes of his, and just the idea
of seeing Mark again has my adrenaline racing and I am not quite in touch with
myself enough right now to know why. Since I have no intention of sharing this
with Amanda, I smile with encouragement instead. “I bet we can make him a
little less intimidating if we stick together.”
She gives me a bright smile. “I like that idea.”
I warm at her response, and the school teacher and nurturer
in me is certain I am so going to be her Mama Bear.
We enter another hallway that is lined with various works of
art that I barely refrain from inspecting. There will be time for that later.
“I’ll introduce you to the staff when they arrive,” Amanda
informs me. “There are seven of us total aside from you, two of whom are
part-time interns. They’re all coming in late after working last night’s
event.”
“How’d you get so lucky to work early?” I ask as we stop at
a doorway I assume leads to the offices.
She cut me another sideways look. “I spilled a glass of wine
on a very important client last night. It’s my punishment.”
My brows dip and a chill slides down my spine. “Punishment?”
She keys in a password on an entry panel, before turning her
attention back to me. The smile of moments before has disappeared. ”Mark’s big
on punishment.” She starts walking and forces me to follow and I have the
distinct impression she doesn’t want to give me the chance to ask for more
specifics.
We pass several dark offices before she pauses at a door and
flips on the light. “You’ll be working in Rebecca’s office.”
I don’t move. I stand there, feeling icy cold, as I remember
the journal entry from the night before. Y ou know the rules, you know I have
to punish you.
Chapter Six
I walk into Rebecca’s office and the scent of roses flares
in my nostrils. Searching the room, I find a small candle on the shiny cherry
wood desk that while not burning, seems the logical source of the sweet floral
perfume. The little personal touch I assume to be Rebecca’s reminds me that I
am here to find her, and punches me in the gut when it should be encouraging, a
sign of her return. Searching for more of that encouragement I should be
feeling, I glance at the two bookshelves to my right, where various art books
are displayed on stands and a dozen or so others are shelved, and find
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