King of Hearts
Page 21
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Now I had his full attention, and he seemed annoyed with me. “Alexis, I have heard more intelligence from you in two weeks than I have from some of the people I work with in an entire year. Never underestimate the value of your decisions.”
I swallowed. Blinked. Couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Never in a million years had I expected him to say something like that. And then I felt tears prickling in my eyes. It was such a huge compliment, and I wasn’t used to those. I needed to get out of there before I embarrassed myself. Not saying a word, I gave him a sober nod, turned, and walked out of the room. Despite what I’d proclaimed about having brains at the end of my interview, I suddenly realised that when it came down to it, I didn’t really believe I could do very much with them. King’s compliment showed me that I needed to seriously rewire the way I thought of myself.
For the next two hours, Gillian kept giving me furtive glances. She clearly wanted to know what King had talked to me about. I gave her nothing. Not only was the woman a flirt, she was also a gossip, and I didn’t want her spreading rumours of me getting preferential treatment from my boss. Not that it had been particularly preferential, but I got the feeling he didn’t often ask his assistants for business advice.
It was almost lunch when Gillian came to my desk and placed a small white envelope in front of me.
“This came for you,” she said, looking curious.
I glanced at the envelope and saw it had been addressed to me in pretty cursive handwriting. Opening it up, I found it was a note from Elaine King telling me she’d very much enjoyed my company yesterday, and that she hoped she’d see me again sometime. Wow. I definitely hadn’t been expecting this. I’d just finished reading it when I realised Gillian had been craning her neck and reading over my shoulder.
“You met Elaine?” she asked in a breathy, flabbergasted voice.
I shot her annoyed look before answering, “Yeah. Mr King had to cancel a visit and asked me to deliver some flowers to her house.”
Gillian’s eyes flared wide as she took a quick look at King’s office door to make sure it was closed. Her voice grew hushed. “Nobody around here has ever met Elaine. Rumours say she went mad with paranoia after something happened with a stalker, and Mr King keeps her locked away to hide the secret.”
For some strange reason, I felt the urge to cover for both King and his mum. “Well, she seemed normal enough when I met her.”
“Oh,” said Gillian, obviously disappointed. She was after a scandal, and I wasn’t going to give her one. Finally accepting there was no story to tell, she went back to her desk and resumed working. I read Elaine’s note once more, a warm feeling in my tummy to know that she’d liked me. It felt good to think I’d brightened up her day. Then I started to wonder about the stalker Gillian had mentioned. This tidbit definitely wasn’t common knowledge, since I would have read about it in the media. Given the state of Elaine nowadays, it could just as easily be true as it could be a rumour.
When my lunch hour came, I waited until Gillian had left the office to head into King’s bathroom. He wasn’t around, so I tucked into my packed sandwich and browsed my personal emails while I waited. As I did this, a text came in from Bradley. He had news about the photo shoot he wanted me to do. In a nutshell, he’d shown the higher-ups at the fashion house some photos of me from my Facebook page. They’d liked my look and wanted me to model. It all felt so glamorous and exciting. I was just reading through the details for the shoot, which was to take place on Saturday, when the bathroom door opened and King stepped inside.
“Started without me?” he asked, taking off his suit jacket to reveal a perfectly fitted white shirt beneath. I really needed to stop noticing these things about him.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, swallowing a bite as he neatly placed his jacket over the back of his chair. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it.”
He arched a brow and then began unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt sleeves before rolling them up his arms. I didn’t know why he was doing it, since it wasn’t particularly hot in here. And really, I wished he wouldn’t, because I couldn’t take my eyes off his forearms. They were…yeah, quite pleasant to look at. He seemed to be hiding some sort of satisfaction when he nodded to my phone.
“Anything interesting?”
“What?” I glanced down, taken by surprise that he’d caught me staring. “Oh, right, yeah, actually. I was just texting my friend, Bradley. He’s setting me up with some weekend work.”
King’s expression was wry. “We don’t pay you enough here?”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s more of a favour. He’s a fashion photographer, you see, and the label he’s working with at the moment need plus-sized models.” I paused and gestured to myself. “Hence, my involvement.”
He seemed both interested and amused as he leaned in. “You’re going to model?”
“Eh, yes, no need to sound so cynical.”
A small frown. “I wasn’t being cynical. I think you’d make a great model,” he said, and then his eyes seemed travel down my body, lingering on the flare of my hips emphasised by the pencil skirt I was wearing. “Fuck, you’d make a perfect model.” This last bit was said under his breath, and my skin began to tingle. Had he really just said that, or was I having a little mini daydream for a second? I needed to alleviate the tension his comment created, so I put on a haughty voice.
I swallowed. Blinked. Couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Never in a million years had I expected him to say something like that. And then I felt tears prickling in my eyes. It was such a huge compliment, and I wasn’t used to those. I needed to get out of there before I embarrassed myself. Not saying a word, I gave him a sober nod, turned, and walked out of the room. Despite what I’d proclaimed about having brains at the end of my interview, I suddenly realised that when it came down to it, I didn’t really believe I could do very much with them. King’s compliment showed me that I needed to seriously rewire the way I thought of myself.
For the next two hours, Gillian kept giving me furtive glances. She clearly wanted to know what King had talked to me about. I gave her nothing. Not only was the woman a flirt, she was also a gossip, and I didn’t want her spreading rumours of me getting preferential treatment from my boss. Not that it had been particularly preferential, but I got the feeling he didn’t often ask his assistants for business advice.
It was almost lunch when Gillian came to my desk and placed a small white envelope in front of me.
“This came for you,” she said, looking curious.
I glanced at the envelope and saw it had been addressed to me in pretty cursive handwriting. Opening it up, I found it was a note from Elaine King telling me she’d very much enjoyed my company yesterday, and that she hoped she’d see me again sometime. Wow. I definitely hadn’t been expecting this. I’d just finished reading it when I realised Gillian had been craning her neck and reading over my shoulder.
“You met Elaine?” she asked in a breathy, flabbergasted voice.
I shot her annoyed look before answering, “Yeah. Mr King had to cancel a visit and asked me to deliver some flowers to her house.”
Gillian’s eyes flared wide as she took a quick look at King’s office door to make sure it was closed. Her voice grew hushed. “Nobody around here has ever met Elaine. Rumours say she went mad with paranoia after something happened with a stalker, and Mr King keeps her locked away to hide the secret.”
For some strange reason, I felt the urge to cover for both King and his mum. “Well, she seemed normal enough when I met her.”
“Oh,” said Gillian, obviously disappointed. She was after a scandal, and I wasn’t going to give her one. Finally accepting there was no story to tell, she went back to her desk and resumed working. I read Elaine’s note once more, a warm feeling in my tummy to know that she’d liked me. It felt good to think I’d brightened up her day. Then I started to wonder about the stalker Gillian had mentioned. This tidbit definitely wasn’t common knowledge, since I would have read about it in the media. Given the state of Elaine nowadays, it could just as easily be true as it could be a rumour.
When my lunch hour came, I waited until Gillian had left the office to head into King’s bathroom. He wasn’t around, so I tucked into my packed sandwich and browsed my personal emails while I waited. As I did this, a text came in from Bradley. He had news about the photo shoot he wanted me to do. In a nutshell, he’d shown the higher-ups at the fashion house some photos of me from my Facebook page. They’d liked my look and wanted me to model. It all felt so glamorous and exciting. I was just reading through the details for the shoot, which was to take place on Saturday, when the bathroom door opened and King stepped inside.
“Started without me?” he asked, taking off his suit jacket to reveal a perfectly fitted white shirt beneath. I really needed to stop noticing these things about him.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, swallowing a bite as he neatly placed his jacket over the back of his chair. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it.”
He arched a brow and then began unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt sleeves before rolling them up his arms. I didn’t know why he was doing it, since it wasn’t particularly hot in here. And really, I wished he wouldn’t, because I couldn’t take my eyes off his forearms. They were…yeah, quite pleasant to look at. He seemed to be hiding some sort of satisfaction when he nodded to my phone.
“Anything interesting?”
“What?” I glanced down, taken by surprise that he’d caught me staring. “Oh, right, yeah, actually. I was just texting my friend, Bradley. He’s setting me up with some weekend work.”
King’s expression was wry. “We don’t pay you enough here?”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s more of a favour. He’s a fashion photographer, you see, and the label he’s working with at the moment need plus-sized models.” I paused and gestured to myself. “Hence, my involvement.”
He seemed both interested and amused as he leaned in. “You’re going to model?”
“Eh, yes, no need to sound so cynical.”
A small frown. “I wasn’t being cynical. I think you’d make a great model,” he said, and then his eyes seemed travel down my body, lingering on the flare of my hips emphasised by the pencil skirt I was wearing. “Fuck, you’d make a perfect model.” This last bit was said under his breath, and my skin began to tingle. Had he really just said that, or was I having a little mini daydream for a second? I needed to alleviate the tension his comment created, so I put on a haughty voice.
