Read Online Great Exploitations: Sin in San Fran by Nicole Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nicole Williams
Ads: Link
shower and concentrated on what I was going to say and do when I saw Henry.
That kept me busy while I got ready, as well as during the drive to Callahan Industries. It was a sunny day and somewhere in the seventy degree range and after being trapped in the humidity and sludge of Florida for over a week, California’s dryer air was like heaven. It was my ideal kind of climate. Too bad it was everyone else’s as well. I’d make plenty of sacrifices to make San Francisco my home, but I drew the line at ungodly commutes, people stacked on top of people, and entry level houses nearing the seven-figure range.
I’d only made the commute to C.I. two times, and I was already burnt out on it. By the time I found a free parking spot, I was down to thirteen hours until the last grain of sand fell from the hourglass. I was tempted to kick off my heels and sprint for the headquarters building, but I’d sprinted plenty of time in heels. Comfort was a small price to pay when it came to the Callahan Errand.
By the time I made it to the top floor of the executive building, I was pretty sure I would be tending to a few nasty blisters later. Just because a woman could run in a pair of take-no-prisoners heels didn’t mean a woman should.
The first thing I noticed when the elevator doors opened was the empty seat behind Henry’s secretary’s desk. There wasn’t even a half-empty cup of coffee or a powered-on computer to indicate she’d stepped away for a few minutes. Not good.
The second thing I noticed was Henry’s office. The door was closed, and it was dark inside. Not good at all. Double checking the time, I cursed under my breath when I confirmed that it was indeed a little past eleven in the morning. I didn’t need to have been an employee there for years to know that Henry Callahan was the guy who showed up when it was barely light out, before anyone else was even rolling out of bed. He had a work ethic that . . . well, rivaled anyone .
So Henry was missing. And his secretary was too. Even if I hadn’t received G’s it’s-all-over call last night, I’d be feeling a little uncertain. But knowing what I did and walking in to find them both M.I.A? Let’s just say I was feeling the opposite of confident. I was pretty sure I’d never felt less confident in my life.
I’d been so sure, so positively certain that Henry wouldn’t fall for her ploys and tricks. Not after the signals he’d been giving me for the past couple of weeks. Did I know nothing about my business? Or did I just know nothing about Henry Callahan? Neither prospect was reassuring.
I was still standing a step outside the elevator doors, briefcase in hand, gaping at the empty chair and office before me, when I heard the doors chime open behind me.
“Is this what I’m paying you a hundred and ten dollars an hour for? Because if that’s the case, I should have negotiated your hourly rate down. No one should pay more than eighty an hour for an employee to block an elevator door.”
If I hadn’t been deep in the middle of a relieved sigh, I would have spun around and thrown my arms around Henry’s neck. No, I didn’t know what had or hadn’t happened last night, but that he was there was a better sign than him skipping the whole day. At the end of that long sigh, I put a smirk on my face and stepped aside. “A hundred and ten an hour? I didn’t demand, request, or negotiate that rate. Hookers in Orange County don’t even make that much. Not even the really good ones.”
Henry chuckled as he stepped out beside me. His hair wasn’t wet from the shower, which was a good sign. His neck was clear of whatever marks a rookie would have left on him. His suit was fresh and unwrinkled, so it wasn’t the same one he’d worn yesterday, and he didn’t possess that lazy, sated gleam in his eyes all men did for twenty-four hours after getting laid. I allowed myself another internal sigh. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure he hadn’t slept with his
That kept me busy while I got ready, as well as during the drive to Callahan Industries. It was a sunny day and somewhere in the seventy degree range and after being trapped in the humidity and sludge of Florida for over a week, California’s dryer air was like heaven. It was my ideal kind of climate. Too bad it was everyone else’s as well. I’d make plenty of sacrifices to make San Francisco my home, but I drew the line at ungodly commutes, people stacked on top of people, and entry level houses nearing the seven-figure range.
I’d only made the commute to C.I. two times, and I was already burnt out on it. By the time I found a free parking spot, I was down to thirteen hours until the last grain of sand fell from the hourglass. I was tempted to kick off my heels and sprint for the headquarters building, but I’d sprinted plenty of time in heels. Comfort was a small price to pay when it came to the Callahan Errand.
By the time I made it to the top floor of the executive building, I was pretty sure I would be tending to a few nasty blisters later. Just because a woman could run in a pair of take-no-prisoners heels didn’t mean a woman should.
The first thing I noticed when the elevator doors opened was the empty seat behind Henry’s secretary’s desk. There wasn’t even a half-empty cup of coffee or a powered-on computer to indicate she’d stepped away for a few minutes. Not good.
The second thing I noticed was Henry’s office. The door was closed, and it was dark inside. Not good at all. Double checking the time, I cursed under my breath when I confirmed that it was indeed a little past eleven in the morning. I didn’t need to have been an employee there for years to know that Henry Callahan was the guy who showed up when it was barely light out, before anyone else was even rolling out of bed. He had a work ethic that . . . well, rivaled anyone .
So Henry was missing. And his secretary was too. Even if I hadn’t received G’s it’s-all-over call last night, I’d be feeling a little uncertain. But knowing what I did and walking in to find them both M.I.A? Let’s just say I was feeling the opposite of confident. I was pretty sure I’d never felt less confident in my life.
I’d been so sure, so positively certain that Henry wouldn’t fall for her ploys and tricks. Not after the signals he’d been giving me for the past couple of weeks. Did I know nothing about my business? Or did I just know nothing about Henry Callahan? Neither prospect was reassuring.
I was still standing a step outside the elevator doors, briefcase in hand, gaping at the empty chair and office before me, when I heard the doors chime open behind me.
“Is this what I’m paying you a hundred and ten dollars an hour for? Because if that’s the case, I should have negotiated your hourly rate down. No one should pay more than eighty an hour for an employee to block an elevator door.”
If I hadn’t been deep in the middle of a relieved sigh, I would have spun around and thrown my arms around Henry’s neck. No, I didn’t know what had or hadn’t happened last night, but that he was there was a better sign than him skipping the whole day. At the end of that long sigh, I put a smirk on my face and stepped aside. “A hundred and ten an hour? I didn’t demand, request, or negotiate that rate. Hookers in Orange County don’t even make that much. Not even the really good ones.”
Henry chuckled as he stepped out beside me. His hair wasn’t wet from the shower, which was a good sign. His neck was clear of whatever marks a rookie would have left on him. His suit was fresh and unwrinkled, so it wasn’t the same one he’d worn yesterday, and he didn’t possess that lazy, sated gleam in his eyes all men did for twenty-four hours after getting laid. I allowed myself another internal sigh. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure he hadn’t slept with his
Similar Books
