I leaned forward, not able to totally ignore the urge to be closer to her. “And you are…”
My father appeared in the doorway of the canteen directly behind her, his eyes laser like pinpricks on me. Fuck. What am I doing?
I had to pull back. I couldn’t be friendly with her. She was interviewing for a position as my secretary. I was the billionaire’s son. I had nothing to offer her but a job, not to any of these lowly half-educated people.
“And you are delighted to meet me, I’m sure,” I said, changing course completely from where I was going with that sentence. “What makes you think you’re qualified for this job?”
“What makes you think I’m not?” she retorted. Feisty. I could see why Neil liked her.
Of course, feisty was something I had to find away from this building—not in it. I raised a brow at her. “Well firstly, because that jacket still has a piece of lint from the shop on the lapel. I don’t need my secretary ‘borrowing’ clothes from shops to look the part.”
Her jaw loosened. “I...”
I held up my hand, letting the asshole in me flow freely. “Secondly, because you interrupted me. Thirdly, you’re not wearing any makeup. My secretary is the face of my office, yours won’t do.”
Eyebrows shooting up to her hair, she pushed her plate away, got up and left. Damn it, that went way too far.
I liked her face just fine. More than liked, she was stunning. What the hell did I just say?
Without stopping to think about it, I got up and went after her. “Come back, please. Interview at least.”
She spun around, anger blazing in those big, round eyes. “What the fuck was that?”
“It was me being a rich bastard,” I answered honestly. “It happens from time to time.”
“Not to me,” she spat and turned to leave again.
“I want your name, at least,” I called after her. My heart hammered in my chest when she stopped, her back still to me.
Waiting for her answer, I sucked in a deep breath and didn’t release it right away. Please just give me your name.