Mr. Young (Seducing Mr Young) by Katelyn Skye Page B

slip inside herself as she rose to
shake hands with this stranger.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Antony said smoothly as he shook
hands. Connie smiled at the man and nodded politely. She barely
remembered the rest of the interview until she found herself back
in the elevator heading for the ground floor. Well, if that was the
end of her adventures at Young Towers, she was pleased at least
there would be a story to tell her girlfriends at the weekend.

Chapter
Two
    “Seriously, he
was that hot?” Jane poured the last of the bottle into Connie’s
glass.
    “Oh my god, you
have to believe me,” Connie said, picking up the glass and downing
half of it easily. “You know when you see guys on TV that kind of
look a bit of alright? Well double it – and you’re almost there. It
was like he had his own private team of airbrushes following him
about.”
    “Maybe it was
just the light,” Kate shrugged.
    “Then it was
magical light,” Connie insisted. “I’m almost glad I haven’t heard
anything – can you imagine trying to stay focused when your boss
looks like a male model? I’d never get anything done!”
    “You never get
anything done anyway,” Kate snorted. She had always been jealous of
Connie’s good grades and positive work ethic. Connie ignored her
and checked her phone.
    “I’d better get
back after this,” she held her drink up. “I’ve got to get to the
library tomorrow – I’m meeting someone there about a job.”
    “Still
nothing?” Jane asked sympathetically.
    “Nothing yet,
aside from selling my stuff on the internet,” Connie rolled her
eyes and pulled her jacket on. “It’s making it easier to clean, at
any rate. There’s like no stuff left!”
    “Well just keep
in touch, yeah?” Jane nodded as Connie blew kisses at her friends
and marched out of the bar. She stepped out into the rain and
hurriedly looked up and down for a taxi.
    “Shit…” she
muttered as cabs drove past, splashing dirty water up the pavement.
She pulled her collar up and hunched a little as she dodged under
canopies, desperately looking for a cab. She was considering hiding
in a noodle bar when a black cab pulled up beside her and the rear
passenger door opened.
    “Hey!” someone
yelled from inside the cab. Connie stopped and squinted through the
rain. Someone was beckoning her over. Well, a ride was a ride, and
she was sure the cab had CCTV if it turned out to be a serial
killer in the back. She minced over the slick pavement and threw
herself into the back of the cab, slamming the door behind her.
    “Thanks,” she
gasped, turning to smile wetly at her rescuer. Her mouth dropped
open in horror as she saw who it was – Antony Young – the man she
had just been singing the praises of moments ago in the bar! “Oh m
god, it’s you,” she blurted.
    “Hello again,”
he smiled, watching her panic a little, touching her hair and
wiping the running mascara from under her eyes. “You looked as
though you needed a ride.”
    “I did, thank
you,” Connie whipped out her compact mirror and gave herself the
once-over. She didn’t look too bad and decided that maybe natural
was better in this case. “Thanks,” she said again.
    “Oh, you’re
welcome,” Antony said, smiling. “Where are you headed?”
    Connie gave him
her address and Antony relayed it to the driver.
    “I never
expected you to be riding home in a cab,” she said.
    “I’m
sorry?”
    “I thought
you’d have your own private car and driver,” she shrugged.
    “Oh, I do,” he
said, looking at his nails, shyly. “But I’ve been to visit a friend
and didn’t feel like calling Julian to come and get me. It’s
late.”
    “That’s…
considerate,” Connie said, not knowing what to say.
    “So, how did
you like Young Towers?” Antony said, turning to look at the
dripping wet woman next to him. Connie smoothed her skirt a little
and blushed.
    “It’s very
impressive,” she said, “I love the views.”
    “They are
wonderful,”