And then with barely a breath he continued, “We’ve got a lot to do today. Meet me in my office in half an hour and we’ll get you started on today’s input.”
“But what about these files?”
“They can wait. A half hour. Don’t be late.”
It wasn’t until she’d slammed down the fifth manila folder onto the pile, sending the folders beneath it scattering in different directions, that Marissa realized that once again, Donovan was sticking in her proverbial craw. “It’s ridiculous,” she muttered, kneeling down to pick up the strewn papers and errant sticky posts. Absolutely insane. The fact that she’d ever thought the man who was now her merciless tormentor was either attractive or intelligent was impossible to believe. Even now she was as angry with herself as with him for the fact that her heart had quickened in his very presence and that it may have even skipped a beat. And then he’d opened his mouth. “You try and do a great job, try and be nice, and what do you get? Total ungratefulness,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “And about as much personality as a resident of the wax museum.”
“Good morning!”
Marissa inwardly grimaced at the sound in the doorway, and prayed that her mumbling hadn’t been overheard. “Good morning, Dexter.” She turned to greet him before hurrying back to her task.
“You know what they say,” Dexter continued casually as he strolled into the room. “People who talk to themselves either wish to converse with a highly intelligent audience…or have a screw loose.”
“Ha!” Marissa relaxed even as she noted how different the two brothers were. Where Donovan was reserved, Dexter was flamboyant and devil-may-care. Where Donovan seemed to take every moment of life seriously, Dexter seemed to tease fate, living each moment as if it were his last. And while Marissa appreciated his endless party lifestyle, she also knew that dating such an individual would drive her crazy. “I’m probably guilty of a little of both.”
“I thought I saw you last night. And then Donovan told me that you were helping him with our international expansion into the Asian market.”
The frown jumped on her face before she could stop it. “Yes, well…”
“A little trouble in paradise or, in this case, the vineyard?” When Marissa didn’t answer, Dexter walked to the door and pushed it closed. “We’re practically family, Marissa. You can talk to me.”
Marissa sighed as she leaned against the large filing cabinet. A part of her wanted no part of voicing her thoughts out loud; the other part relished a second opinion. “I’m not quite sure whether your brother and I are very different or too much alike. Either way, we sort of got off on the wrong foot.” Marissa told Dexter about the night of the engagement party and how she’d not met Donovan as they’d initially planned. She left out the part about Steven’s participation, hidden behind the more general “something came up.”
Dexter listened intently, arms crossed, pose casual as he leaned against the wall. “Let me tell you something about my brother,” he said once she’d finished. “He’s the serious one of the siblings, a ‘strictly business’ kind of guy. But he’s a good man, too, who can be very focused when it comes to something he wants or cares about.”
“Look, I know how important this project is to him and to your company. He’s made me very aware of how confidential it is, how critical it is to this next phase in your business plan, all of that. I understand that, and I’ve told him that while I know I can’t take Sharon’s place, I will do my very best to pick up the slack in her absence.”
“I have no doubt that you will,” Dexter said, raising off the wall and heading toward the door. “But when it comes to what Donovan wants, I’m not talking about a job well done. I’m talking about you.”
“What?” Marissa sprang forward from leaning against the file cabinet, her
“But what about these files?”
“They can wait. A half hour. Don’t be late.”
It wasn’t until she’d slammed down the fifth manila folder onto the pile, sending the folders beneath it scattering in different directions, that Marissa realized that once again, Donovan was sticking in her proverbial craw. “It’s ridiculous,” she muttered, kneeling down to pick up the strewn papers and errant sticky posts. Absolutely insane. The fact that she’d ever thought the man who was now her merciless tormentor was either attractive or intelligent was impossible to believe. Even now she was as angry with herself as with him for the fact that her heart had quickened in his very presence and that it may have even skipped a beat. And then he’d opened his mouth. “You try and do a great job, try and be nice, and what do you get? Total ungratefulness,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “And about as much personality as a resident of the wax museum.”
“Good morning!”
Marissa inwardly grimaced at the sound in the doorway, and prayed that her mumbling hadn’t been overheard. “Good morning, Dexter.” She turned to greet him before hurrying back to her task.
“You know what they say,” Dexter continued casually as he strolled into the room. “People who talk to themselves either wish to converse with a highly intelligent audience…or have a screw loose.”
“Ha!” Marissa relaxed even as she noted how different the two brothers were. Where Donovan was reserved, Dexter was flamboyant and devil-may-care. Where Donovan seemed to take every moment of life seriously, Dexter seemed to tease fate, living each moment as if it were his last. And while Marissa appreciated his endless party lifestyle, she also knew that dating such an individual would drive her crazy. “I’m probably guilty of a little of both.”
“I thought I saw you last night. And then Donovan told me that you were helping him with our international expansion into the Asian market.”
The frown jumped on her face before she could stop it. “Yes, well…”
“A little trouble in paradise or, in this case, the vineyard?” When Marissa didn’t answer, Dexter walked to the door and pushed it closed. “We’re practically family, Marissa. You can talk to me.”
Marissa sighed as she leaned against the large filing cabinet. A part of her wanted no part of voicing her thoughts out loud; the other part relished a second opinion. “I’m not quite sure whether your brother and I are very different or too much alike. Either way, we sort of got off on the wrong foot.” Marissa told Dexter about the night of the engagement party and how she’d not met Donovan as they’d initially planned. She left out the part about Steven’s participation, hidden behind the more general “something came up.”
Dexter listened intently, arms crossed, pose casual as he leaned against the wall. “Let me tell you something about my brother,” he said once she’d finished. “He’s the serious one of the siblings, a ‘strictly business’ kind of guy. But he’s a good man, too, who can be very focused when it comes to something he wants or cares about.”
“Look, I know how important this project is to him and to your company. He’s made me very aware of how confidential it is, how critical it is to this next phase in your business plan, all of that. I understand that, and I’ve told him that while I know I can’t take Sharon’s place, I will do my very best to pick up the slack in her absence.”
“I have no doubt that you will,” Dexter said, raising off the wall and heading toward the door. “But when it comes to what Donovan wants, I’m not talking about a job well done. I’m talking about you.”
“What?” Marissa sprang forward from leaning against the file cabinet, her
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