CHAPTER TWO

I groaned to the shrill of my ringtone, stretching my sore limbs, still very much half-asleep. I groped across the bed for the phone, answering on the second ring.

“Robin, I have great news for you! Dad secured you an interview for a position at McCullen Confectionery. You’ll have the interview at McCullen Heights.” Lana screamed with a piercing voice, snapping my eyes open, my heart stuttering as the words gradually sank in. The silence lingered before Lana’s voice thudded in my ears.

“Hey,” she snapped. “Did you hear me?”

“Well… I…I just can’t believe it. How?” I said, my brows knitting in surprise, my jaw dropping slightly, wide eyed.

“Uh, duh,” she teased flippantly. “My dad holds the keys to a lot of high places, darling, the interview is at eleven. Best of luck, Rob.”

I tapped the end button and stared at my phone, stunned.

Was I dreaming?

An interview?

After countless unsuccessful interviews over the preceding weeks, I had begun to admit to failure. The outcome remained unchanged, and there weren’t any grounds to expect otherwise in the foreseeable future. I wasn’t one to give up easily, but after the relentless grind of the job hunt, I finally called in a favour from Lana and her dad, Mr. Betton.

I had wanted to navigate the job search on my own, to earn my own way without leaning on Lana. But pride had its limits, and I had to admit, I needed help if only to expedite what felt like an endless process. However, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. I hadn’t expected a call about an interview so soon.

I called her back immediately, she picked up on the first ring.

“What’s up? Need directions?” she said teasingly.

“I know my way around. I just wanted to thank you for…”

“Robin,” she interrupted, “We’re practically sisters. I’m glad you came to me, this is nothing. Now, stop with the formalities and ace the interview that’ll be enough. Good?”

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me.

“Hello?” she called out. “You there, Rob?”

“Yes. I’m here,” I said after a moment. “Thank you. I won’t disappoint you. I love you.”

“That’s more like it,” she said. “I’ve got a mountain of papers to grade. Catch you at home later?”

“You bet.”

I hit end, and dropped the phone onto the bed, my pulse still racing. McCullen Confectionery? The biggest confectionery in the world? My inner goddess squealed.

It was only eight in the morning, plenty of time if I didn’t waste it. I launched into my morning ritual with full military focus; a quick workout to shake off the nerves, scrambled eggs, a fruit bowl, and coffee, strong… Always strong. Especially on days like today when the stakes were high.

After my shower, I slipped into a silhouette, blue dress that fell just below my knees—soft and professional. I booted on my laptop, ran through some mock interview questions, as I paced around the room between answers.

I couldn’t fuck this up.

Two hours and a full mug of coffee later, I was ready –an achievement in itself, considering timelines were never my strong suit. I smiled at my reflection, twirled in front of the mirror, then grabbed my purse and Lana’s car key. She had lent me her Audi A3 after mine was dashed.

Fingers crossed London traffic wouldn’t test my patience, or sanity today.

******

Getting to McCullen Heights was quite a gruelling journey, thank goodness for breakfast. I exhaled nervously, exited the car to the reception, and signed in their books. I was handed a security pass. The brunette receptionist led me through a flight of stairs and endless trips, in and out of elevators before finally pointing me to a colossal lobby, with wide glass panes everywhere. I was confronted by an imposing desk. A young woman with the name tag Anne stood up and smiled warmly at me, before directing me to a door.

I took tentative steps towards it, a slight tremor running through my hand as I reached for the door knob. The door expansively displayed a brass nameplate bearing the name, Jack McCullen. CEO.

I drew in a deep breath, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Freezing on the spot.

I stood dead in the doorway, utterly paralysed.

He was watching me, his gaze intense, his lips pursed as he quietly assessed me. He stood up, a towering behemoth of a man traipsing from behind his massive desk and moving towards me with long, unhurried strides, clearly registering my inability to move. God, he was so beautiful.

“I’m Jack.”

His low, raspy voice further rooting me to the spot, my cheeks burning bright red. Jesus, I was an obvious hussy.

My heart slammed against my rib cage, my breath catching painfully in my throat, my thoughts reeling uncontrollably in all direction sexual, my mouth doing a terrible job forming words. Say something—anything! I just stood still, staring at him, while he gazed back, his piercing blue eyes holding me in place, immobilizing me. My Goodness.

I felt the blazing heat of his stare coursing through my body, making me languid.

What was happening to me??

 He was imposingly tall, burly figure and broad at the shoulders. I swallowed hard.

He wore a tailored, lush suit with a sharp, pristine jacket over a crisp charcoal shirt, complemented by a finely knotted black tie hanging loosely down the front of his broad chest, completing an impeccable ensemble.

When I still hadn’t responded after forever, he gently nudged at my shoulder.

I gulped.

God, what was up with me?

This man was… more than perfect.

His dirty blonde hair was immaculately styled and well-kept, his jaw square beneath a neatly groomed beard that did nothing to hide the handsome features beneath. His eyes were a deep, sapphire blue – intense, bright and far too consuming. He was lightly tanned and infuriatingly composed.

Oh God.

Owner of McCullen Heights?

“Miss Clay,” he murmured, his voice only deepening my paralysis.

I tensed all over. I could hear my heart thudding in my ears. I knew I had to speak at this point—but I couldn’t. I was lost for words, completely captivated by this man.

“I’m closing the door shut now,” he said calmly, recognising my stupidly tensed state.

He leaned down, lowered his head to level with my eye, then whispered in my ear, “Are you okay?” His hot breath against my skin sent scorching coals to radiate through my body, a sharp pulsation throbbing in between my legs. I breathed in and cleared my throat, snapping myself out of the embarrassment.

 I felt so pathetic after jolting out of my dazed stupor, agonizingly aware of his intense gaze, staring down at me.

“Hi,” I croaked, my skin flushing. “I’m Robin Clay.”

I extended a hand. He took it gently, the contact sending a shiver straight through my frail body. I gasped, both releasing our hands just as quickly as we clasped them.

“I know,” he murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Come. Sit. Mr Betton sent over your portfolio for a position at our company.”

“Oh, I thought this was a communications company?” I murmured, my voice faltering with disappointment.

“Yes. Among others,” he replied evenly. “You’ll be assigned to our confectionery processing factory. That’s where your expertise lies, no?” he said, his tone clipped, with a quiet confidence.

“Yes. I majored in Food Science, I’d be elated to join your company.”

I smiled. His sapphire eyes prickling at my senses as I stared at his stunning face, silently praying to get through this without any more humiliation.

“Um… what more would you like to know?” I asked, fidgeting with my fingers. I had to distract myself, I couldn’t focus under his consuming gaze.

“I’ve got all I need.”

He did?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve got the job. How soon can you start?”

My breath hitched, surprised. “Um, whenever you want me to.”

“Monday. Keep me posted by submitting a full report of your activities to me.”

“I can do that,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat under his seductive gaze.

“However,” he cooed, “I do have a minor concern. Are you partnered with anyone?”

The question slammed me to the back of my seat, my thoughts screeching to a halt, wrinkling my nose instinctively.

“That’s a personal question, Mr…”

“McCullen,” he supplied, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I don’t believe I’m obliged to answer that,” I said flatly.

“It’s a question we ask all employees for security reasons.”

Security reasons? This must be a joke!

I nearly laughed. Instead, I bit back the sarcasm threatening to escape my lips and forced a strained smile.

“No... I’m not.”

His lips pursed thoughtfully, releasing them just as quickly.

“Robin,” he said slowly, savouring the taste of my name on his tongue. It took everything in me not to react. I clenched my legs tightly together preventing a violent throb through my heavy and aching groin. I was completely rapt by him, which was why I really had to get out of here.

“We’re done for now. I’ll expect your report on Friday.”

Thank fucking God.

I nodded, my face turning crimson.

“Ms Clay.”

I stood up, the swivel chair producing a faint creaking sound as I made an attempt to leave. He moved quickly behind me with long strides.

“Please,” he said, holding the chair backwards for me to easily sidestep between the space. “Allow me.”

As I moved pass him, his hand gently grazed my arm, I clenched my jaw, fighting a groan.

“Thank you,” I murmured, meeting his gaze one more time.

“I aim to please,” he replied, his lips curving into a half-smile.

Oh God don’t look at me…please.

I turned my eyes away from him, escaping on trembling legs.

I slumped into my car, releasing a shaky puff of relief, picked a tissue from the holder and dapped my face. Had I been sweating the entire time? I slouched forward tapping my head lightly against the steering wheel, before turning the key in the ignition.

As I drove out from the rear of the building, Jack’s face continued to replay relentlessly in my mind.

How was I supposed to work with him?

One thought reverberated louder than the rest on my drive back home.

It would take everything in me to resist Jack McCullen!

******

“You’re home early. I didn’t expect your return this soon,” Lana said, her head buried in the pile of papers spread across the coffee table.

“Well, he’s got everything he needed.”

Lana lifted her head sharply, her eyes narrowing at me. “How did it go?”

I darted into the kitchen, toying with the blender. I didn’t want to discuss anything concerning Jack McCullen.

“Well?” she pressed.

“It went okay, Lana,” I said curtly, my face burning instantly by the whole shebang that had unfolded half an hour ago.

“I want the details,” she squealed in excitement, pushing back her chair, and whirling her body around to face me. “Was he a curmudgeon?” I snickered around a mouthful of cucumber smoothie. “I wouldn’t expect him to be anything less than fifty.”

“I didn’t ask his age though he looked mature,” I said tentatively, “but I’ll be sure to ask next time. Apparently, he didn’t need an intensive interview, Mr. Betton had already sent over everything.”

Lana studied me closely, gazing at my face “Then why do you look unsettled?”

She was annoyingly discerning.

“He was nothing like what I expected...”

“What were you expecting?” she said, on a shrill. “A gruff old man?” Her stare sharpened on me, suddenly making me feel uncomfortable.

“He’s… insanely hot,” I admitted quietly. “And he knows it. Worse—I think he’s aware of the effect he has on me.”

I buried my face in my palms mortified, feeling incredibly ridiculous.

Lana’s lips curled into a wide grin. “I bet you had just as much impact on him. You’re the most beautiful woman I know, Robin.”

She always did that –reminded me of myself when I was trying hard not to feel seen. Especially after Mason. Especially when I was slipping into that dark hole.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful,” she added.

“I appreciate the compliments,” I said, lowering my hands from my face, “but I’m really not ready to jump back into the dating market yet. I hope you understand.”

Her mouth curved into a smile. “Crystal. But you never know where—or when—you’ll meet the one.”

“What?” I asked, rolling my eyes at her. I wasn’t ready for any sort of relationship with a matured man or otherwise, I had enough unhealed scars from Mason to add another to the list.

“Nothing.” She tilted her head to the side, winking at me. “Do you want to go downtown for drinks? It’s fucking Friday.”

“Can we do wine and popcorn instead?” I suggested. I couldn’t go out. I was emotionally swamped by a certain God. “Then out tomorrow? Deal?”

“Sounds perfect,” she said. “Gives me more time to finish this heap.” She gestured towards the papers. “Help me out?”

“I’ll have to take a rain check,” I said smugly. “Last time was terrible.”

“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. You woke me up, remember? The least you deserved—for allowing the douchebag disrupt our sleep.”

“You’ve always made it clear you hated Mason. That ship has sailed. Let’s forget about him, okay? I’m taking a warm bath.” I snarked at her, walked down the hallway and turned, just when she was about to call after me.

“Help me out when you’re done?” she pleaded, batting her lashes with a pouty expression. That got me every time, the shameless cow.

“Okay, okay,” I relented, sighing. “But just for a few minutes.”

She nodded triumphantly.

“Hope you’re not spending the whole time thinking about Mr. Hot McCullen?” She teased.

I ignored her and shut the bathroom door behind me, still hearing her impish giggles.

He was way too old for me and probably taken…positively taken.

Yet, truthfully?

I planned to roam wild in thoughts about Mr. Hot McCullen.

As I lowered myself into the warm bath, I exhaled shakily, completely aware of how unprepared I was for whatever emotion was stirring inside me.

Whatever hold Jack McCullen already had on my senses, I knew, without a doubt that I was helplessly consumed by him.

I wasn’t going to be able to resist the effect he has on me.

The way my body responded to him, even without being touched…I squeezed my eyes together in dread.

Oh God, I was doomed!