The CEO and the Girl From the Coffee Shop by Terry Towers Page B

countered. "The last person you had working in my
position. Did you have the same type of working arrangement as you
do with me now?"
    He chuckled,
giving her hand a light squeeze. "Well, to be honest, the last
person was a sixty-five year old woman named Gretchen, who quit
because she and her husband were moving to Florida. She arrived at
6am and left at 5pm and I assure you I had no desire to touch her
in any way inappropriately."
    Beth rolled
her eyes at him, but couldn't help but laugh a second time. "Please
don't make me laugh, I'm being serious."
    His attempt to
keep a stern expression was nearly as humorous as his words. "And
so am I. She was the sweetest woman, been with my family for
decades, she practically raised me, but she just wasn't my type.
Don't get me wrong knee high stockings can be extremely
sexy..."
    Pulling her
hand from his she gave his shoulder a playful swat, still giggling.
"Stop. I get it!"
    "But why hire me ," she stressed the 'me' part. He was being intentionally
elusive, but there was no way she could let it go without a
satisfactory answer.
    He leaned back
on his elbows on the towel he'd laid out previously, causing her to
lean back as well, turning to her side facing him, bracing her head
with her hand, to watch his expression as he talked. "I've had a
slight," he cleared his throat, and even in the dim light of the
torch fires, she could see his face redden slightly. It was
apparent he wasn't very accustomed to explaining himself to anyone.
"A slight crush, if you could call it that, for you for some
time now."
    Beth couldn't
stop the soft giggle that escaped her lips. With all of the models
and high-society bimbo's that she'd seen him with in pictures and
in the gossip news she had a hard time visualizing Gabriel having a
'crush' on anyone. She would have thought the roles were normally
reversed.
    He raised a
brow at her, amused. "You think I can't have a crush?"
    She shook her
head. "It's hard to visualize, that's all."
    "I see. Well,
I have."
    "But you date
these models and I saw a picture of you with some soap
actress."
    He grinned and
chuckled. "Without the glamour and the make-up, they aren't near as
beautiful as they think they are," he stressed the word they, "Besides, most are fake and superficial. Fame does
that to people. Not all, but most. And you really can't blame them.
When you have thousands - millions even - of people constantly
telling you how wonderful, beautiful, talented you are, it's bound
to sink it and have an effect."
    "I see. So
again, why me? Why offer me this job?"
    "Do you know
what one of the highlights of my day is?" he rolled over to his
side so he was facing her directly, mimicking her position by
bracing himself up on his elbow.
    Beth
shrugged.
    "Going out of
my way each day to stop by the coffee shop to get a cup of that
horrid coffee you people serve. It's horrible. I imagine the only
reason the shop stays in business is the good looking women it
tends to employ."
    Beth laughed
her agreement with his assessment of the coffee. "So why hire me? Why not just ask me on a date?"
    He clucked his
tongue off the roof of his mouth. "Alright answer me this. How many
times a week did you get hit on by customers?"
    It was Beth's
turn to blush. She saw where he was going with this and saw his
point. "A few or so."
    "I didn't like
the idea of being another one of those asshole customers. And so
when I showed up and realized you were in a situation that I could
help with I figured it would be a good chance to get to know
you."
    "Inviting
someone to live with you is a really fucked up way of getting to
know them Gabriel," she chided.
    "Is it," he
agreed, his amusement slowly fading to be replaced with the heated,
hungry look that she was becoming very familiar with and sent her
pulse racing. He touched her hip, just above the string that tied
at her hip, holding the bottom together and slowly trailed his
fingertips over her hip, and along her waist.
    She wanted to
close her