Taming The Boss. Sarah M. Anderson
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David had worked in a perfectly respectable office serving northern Chicago, Skokie, Lincolnwood, Evanston and the surrounding areas. But even the receptionist here had a nicer desk than she’d had at the office.
“Hello,” Sofia began, projecting more confidence than she felt right now. “My name is Sofia Bingham and I have a nine a.m. interview with Mr. Jenner.”
The receptionist was young, blonde and gorgeous. Her eyebrows alone were works of art, to say nothing of the trendy patterned jacket she wore. Her eyes flicked over Sofia, but she didn’t so much as frown, which had to count for something. “You’re here for the office manager position?” Even her voice sounded trendy.
“Yes.” Confident. That was Sofia. She could handle an interview. She could handle this office—although it didn’t seem to need a lot of managing.
“One moment, please.” The receptionist turned her attention to her computer screen.
Sofia’s stomach tightened with anxiety. She’d been selling real estate for over seven years and before that, she’d been helping at her parents’ agency. But managing an office like this?
This wasn’t just real estate agents. Eric Jenner no longer bought and sold houses. He bought land and built things, like this skyscraper. He employed agents and architects and interior designers and lawyers. He built exclusive office spaces and luxury apartments. And he did it so well that he had become a billionaire. Sofia didn’t stalk Eric online but it’d been hard to miss when he’d been left at the altar and then, just a few months later, been named one of Chicago’s top five eligible bachelors, following the marriage and subsequent delisting of his friend, Marcus Warren.
What was she even doing here? She didn’t know anything about billionaires. She knew how to sell houses and condos to families, not manage architects and negotiate tax breaks with municipalities. She was struggling to hold on to middle-class respectability, for crying out loud. She’d had to move back in with her parents because she couldn’t afford house payments or daycare. This was not her world.
Her chest tightened and she had trouble breathing.
Oh, no.
No, she could not have a panic attack. Not another one, not right now. She took a step back from the reception desk, the urge to flee so strong it was almost overwhelming. Two things stopped her. The first was the image of the twins in her mother’s arms this morning, all waving bye-bye to Sofia as she went off for her big interview. Mom had been training Adelina and Eduardo to blow kisses and it was the cutest thing ever. The twins needed more than Sofia could give them right now. They needed stability and safety. They needed a mom who wasn’t teetering on the edge, trying to keep everything together. To be that person for her children, she needed a steady job.
The other thing that halted her in her tracks was the sound of her name. “Ms. Bingham?”
She looked up and the air rushed out of her lungs. There he was. She’d seen pictures of him in those impossible-to-miss articles, but there was something unexpected about Eric Jenner in the flesh that shook her.
That smile, at least, hadn’t changed. But the rest of him? Eric Jenner was now over six feet tall, moving with an easy grace that projected strength and confidence. He was simply breathtaking in a way she hadn’t ever associated with him. His hair had deepened from bright copper to a rich burnished red, although his skin was still tanned. She almost grinned. Bronzed redheads were such a rare thing that it only made him all the more special.
One thing was certain—he was not the boy she remembered. His shoulders were broader, his legs more powerful as they closed the distance between them. And his eyes… When she lifted her gaze to his, he stumbled to a stop, his brow quirking and she knew he recognized her, even if he didn’t know from where. Something in her chest loosened and she could breathe again because she knew it was going to be all right.
She hoped, anyway.
Then the realization broke over his face. “Sofia?” He took a step forward before pulling up short. “I’m sorry,” he went on in a completely different voice. “You look like someone I used to know.”
She became aware that they were standing in the middle of the reception area and that, while no one was openly staring at them, a lot of people were paying attention to this conversation. She clutched the strap of her handbag harder. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Jenner,” she said because she did not want to presume anything at this point.
His face lit up and dang if that didn’t make her smile. “What are you doing here? And when did you get married?” He paused and looked at her again. A warm heat flushed her cheeks. Great. Blushing.
It only got worse when he said, “Wow. You really grew up.”
Her anxiety tried to wrestle control, but she powered through. “Actually, I’m your nine a.m. I’m here about the job.” He blinked at her. “The opening for office manager?” she prompted him.
“Oh, oh—right.” He glanced around, as if he was also just becoming aware of how this conversation might look to his employees. “This office could definitely use some management. Come on back.” He cast a critical eye around and people seemed to melt back into their offices but he did so with a faint smile on his face. Sofia caught the receptionist grinning and rolling her eyes. Eric saw it, too, and said, “All right, Heather—back to work.”
“Of course, Mr. Jenner,” Heather the receptionist said, still smiling. She had perfectly white, perfectly even teeth, which was almost enough to distract Sofia from the sly way she winked.
Eric winked back.
Sofia’s heart began to pound again. What did she know about him, really? The boy he’d been had been someone privileged and wealthy but still kind to a little girl. He’d taught her how to swim and roller-skate and had, on more than one occasion, played tea with her and some of his mother’s delicate china dolls.
But that didn’t mean he was the same person now. Yes, he was rich, handsome—and single. Of course he would make eyes at the beautiful young receptionist. And the beautiful young receptionist—well, she wasn’t stupid. Of course she would make eyes back.
Sofia had just begun to feel invisible when Eric turned back to her. “I had no idea you were applying for this job,” he said, motioning for her to follow him. “Tell me about your husband. Who was lucky enough to land Sofia Cortés?”
He said it in a way that was almost believable, the kind of benign flirting a man like Eric no doubt excelled at. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t run-of-the-mill small talk to Sofia. All she could do was keep breathing.
She didn’t say anything until he led her back into his office. The room was huge, with leather couches and a massive mahogany desk, plus a wet bar. And behind it all was a wall of glass facing due east. He had an almost perfectly unobstructed view of Lake Michigan. She didn’t sell downtown real estate, but even she knew this view was worth millions.
He closed the door behind her. For a moment, they stood with less than two feet separating them. Sofia became acutely aware of the heat of his body and it made her flush in a way that hadn’t happened in months. Years.
“What an amazing vista,” she said, striving for lighthearted—and willing him away from conversation about David. Willing away the heat she couldn’t seem to ignore.
Eric Jenner was every inch the billionaire bachelor. There was no doubt in her mind that his suit was custom-made—everything he wore was probably custom-made, right down to his socks. He’d paired a bold royal blue suit with a light pink shirt and a silk tie that probably cost as much as her car payment. It all fit him like a second skin.
A forgotten feeling began to pulse through her body, a steady pounding that got louder with each beat. For a dazed moment, she didn’t recognize it.
Desire. That’s what this tight, hot heaviness was. Want. She’d forgotten she could feel this way anymore. She’d thought…well, she’d thought she’d buried her needs with her husband.
The