Meeting McAllister

[Charlotte]

“I would offer you my hand, but I would not want to draw the unwanted attention of your employer,” his stingy grin is thin, giving nothing but the barest reminder of a smile. “I am finally pleased to meet you in person. Of course, I am already quite familiar with your appearance.”

Something must have shown on my face because he started to laugh.

“I’ve had you thoroughly investigated, of course,” his laughter is reedy and high-pitched. “I’m sure McKaine did something similar when he brought you on board. Those of us with a lot to lose like to make sure we aren’t surrounding ourselves with sharks we do not know.”

I remember that I’m supposed to be charming him, so I return his smile. “Are you calling me a shark?” I query. “I assure you, Mr. McAllister, I do not bite.”

His eyes travel up my body, starting with my feet and working their way up in that assessing way that men have, when our gazes meet he gives me a genuine sideways smile. “That’s a pity. Are you sure?”

“Well,”