Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
He leans back slightly, fingers tapping against the polished tabletop. “Our strength lies in market versatility. We engage across various sectors, ensuring we can fulfill any request, regardless of its scale. This location serves as our hub for sales, customer service, and logistics—the core of our client operations. Building and maintaining strong relationships is critical. It’s not just about making a sale; it’s about fostering long-term partnerships that keep our business thriving.”
His gaze hardens, fixed entirely on me. “That’s where you come in. This internship isn’t just about observation. I expect you to learn how we operate, understand client needs, and demonstrate that you possess the skills necessary to be a part of this industry.
“Will I be working in customer service or sales?”
“Neither,” he says evenly, his gaze assessing. “My intuition tells me you have a bit more ambition than my son does, which is why you’ll be shadowing me. I’m going to teach you how to invest in your career.” He leans forward slightly, his voice steady, calculated. “Do you want to sit behind a desk taking calls for someone else, or do you want to be the one running the show?”
A spark ignites in my chest, something I didn’t expect to feel so soon. I swallow hard. This is it. Say it like you mean it.
“I… I want to be the one running it.”
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face. “Good girl.”
The way he says it sends a strange thrill down my spine—part approval, part challenge. He studies me for a moment, then rises, straightening his sleeves as if sealing an unspoken deal.
“Then let’s get to work.”
The intercom on his desk buzzes. “Mr. Blake, Wayne Gallagher is on line one. There’s an issue at one of our warehouses.”
“Excuse me.” He picks up his phone. His brows furrow as he listens, his expression shifting from concern to frustration.
“When?” There’s an edge in his voice now. “Did you check the systems? And…?” A heavy pause. His jaw tightens. “Okay. I’m coming to oversee it myself.” He drags a hand down his face before giving a curt nod. “Thank you. See you soon.”
As he hangs up, his grip on the phone lingers, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
“Everything okay?”
“Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” I stand.
“Field trip,” he announces, his tone clipped with urgency. “Our closest warehouse is approximately thirty minutes away. They’re experiencing system issues, and we’re going to investigate the problem.”
Before I can respond, he presses his hand against the small of my back, firm yet controlled, and guides me toward the door. The sudden shift in energy—his frustration mixed with unwavering authority—sends a wave of anticipation through me.
“Let’s move,” he adds, steering me into the hallway with purposeful strides. “Pay attention. You’re about to see firsthand how we handle problems in real time.”
“But shouldn’t—”
“Shouldn’t what, Georgia?” His voice is smooth, laced with something that makes my pulse quicken. “I’m the boss. I make the rules.”
That wasn’t exactly where I was going with that. I meant—shouldn’t someone else be going with him? This seems inappropriate. But the way his eyes linger on me, the weight of his hand resting a second too long at my back, makes my stomach tighten. Inappropriate is suddenly the last thing on my mind.
I lift my chin, ignoring the heat creeping up my neck. “Okay, boss. Let’s go.”
His smile unfolds slowly, the kind that sends shivers down a girl’s spine and fuels fantasies that don’t belong in a workplace.
He gives the receptionist a quick nod before telling her we’ll be out in the field until after lunch. I hesitate for a moment, a flicker of doubt creeping in. Noah didn’t search for me for lunch yesterday, but what if he does today? What if he realizes I’m missing… with his father?
“Everything okay?” Mr. Blake asks.
I snap out of my stupid thoughts. “Of course.”
Chapter seven
Jackson
Itext William, my private driver, on the ride down to the lobby, asking him to pull the car around.
We step out of the building, and William nods, opening the back passenger door. “Mr. Blake,” he greets.
“Thank you, William. After you,” I say to Georgia, pressing my palm to her lower back. Her body trembles under my touch, and I love it. I’m tempted to brush my hand down her ass.
Look but don’t touch.
As much as my cock wants to be buried deep inside her, my damn conscience is right.
The ride is seamless. She still hasn’t relaxed around me, and I can’t help but enjoy how every question I ask makes her skittish.
“So, you’ve asked all these questions about me. Why don’t you tell me about you?”
There’s a slight tremor in her voice, and I almost groan. It makes me want to suck her bottom lip into my mouth, nibble on it, bite, causing her the slightest pain. “Did you not find everything you wanted to know in my bedroom?”