The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair, #1)

“It’s one client dinner, Presley. And I’ll pay you for your time. There’s nothing improper about it.”

He’s right. It’s not like he’s not asking me out. It’s a work event, one I would have readily agreed to if he’d asked me during business hours.

“Five hundred dollars for your evening. What do you say?”

Five hundred dollars is a lot of money, money that would really help with the bill Michael just gave me.

Briefly, I wonder what the other interns would say if they knew I was out with Dominic. Then again, I suppose it would be no different than if Jordan went to dinner, or say, golfing with Oliver. It’s all part of business, right? I could think of it like working overtime. Plus, the benefit of spending more time with the CEO himself, and the chance to see how business deals are made, would be a huge advantage to my long-term goals with Aspen.

I have to say yes. And it has nothing to do with how gorgeously attractive the man seated next to me is. Or how his deep voice washes over me, making my stomach twist with nerves.

“Well, I have to leave in three minutes to make the reservation, so I’m afraid I need a quick decision.”

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. This could be a huge opportunity. I’ll have a front-row seat to the details that could affect the whole business. It’s a chance to observe and learn from two of the biggest players around. If I manage not to put my foot in my mouth, I might even be able to have some small effect on their decisions.

On top of that, I can’t help feeling a little sad for Dominic. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now.

With a deep, steadying breath, I rise to my feet. “I still have no idea if I can do this, but I’ll try.”

“That’s a good life philosophy. Brave . . .” He checks his watch and gives me a slight smirk. “And decisive, too. You had an extra minute to spare.”

“Thanks. Will you hold it against me if I have to bail halfway through?” My voice almost quavers, but not quite, and I count it as a small victory.

He looks amused as he fishes out his wallet and hands a couple of large bills to the bartender. “Not if you come up with a decent excuse. In business school, this girl stood me up twice, and both times she claimed her roommate died.”

A giggle escapes me. I’m still so nervous, I feel a little breathless, but if he’s trying to set me at ease, it’s helping a little. Still, I can’t help but wonder if the girl he’s talking about was a real date or a hired escort. I can’t ask that, though, can I?

Just because we’re spending time together outside of work doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with him. Far from it. This man exudes confidence and power and raw sex appeal. And I’m trying my hardest not to notice that last one.

Dominic leads the way to the front of the bar and then holds open the heavy glass door for me. I step past him, and then we face each other on the sidewalk. He just looks at me for a moment, and I’m not sure what to say.

“Am I dressed okay?” I finally settle on, unable to take the intensity of his scrutiny any longer. I’m still dressed for work—black suit pants, white button-down shirt, a red cardigan over that.

His mouth twitches with the hint of a smile. “You look very proper.” Softening his tone, he adds, “I hope I didn’t hijack your evening.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t have any plans. Other than maybe getting a head start on my new project.”

Dominic chuckles and nods toward the sidewalk. “Will you be okay to walk in those heels? The restaurant is four blocks in that direction. If not, I’m happy to get a car, whatever you prefer.”

Maybe that’s why he was looking at me. To determine if I could make it four blocks without breaking my ankle in my high heels.

“I can walk.”

“Perfect.”

We start off, and since I don’t usually walk this way, I’m busy cataloging the little bakeries, cafés, and gift shops that I’ll probably never get to enjoy. At least, not until I’m pulling in a bigger paycheck. Putting my brother through school is every bit as difficult as I feared it would be. I just need to stay focused.

As we walk, I’m desperate to break the silence, and search for some small-talk topic that will keep us occupied.

“So, you’re not dating anyone?” I settle on.

“God, no.”

He answers so fast, I actually giggle. “Jeez. I didn’t ask if you had the plague.”

Dominic smiles warmly at me. “I’m too busy to date.”

I return his smile. “I know the feeling. At this stage in my life, the only thing I want to focus on is my career.”

He nods. “That’s very admirable.”

We reach the restaurant with its glass-and-chrome doors, and Dominic stops with his hand extended.

“Appearances, remember?” he murmurs, his voice deep and silky. “When I said I need a woman on my arm, I meant it literally.”

I swallow, then place my hand in his. His palm is warm and solid and engulfs mine completely. It’s a little disorienting.

As we enter together, I can’t resist sneaking a peek at him. I’ve never set foot in such an opulent restaurant. The red carpeting is thick beneath my heels, and crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Each table is draped with a creamy linen tablecloth and bears a vase of fiery orchids.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Dominic greets the hostess and gives her his name. She leads us to an intimate curved booth where an older man sits drinking a glass of red wine. He looks to be in his fifties, with a slight paunch and a neat fringe of salt-and-pepper hair around his ears.

He stands up to shake hands with Dominic. “Great to see you again. As you can tell, I got here a few minutes early and decided to get a head start on the evening.” He chuckles at his own joke.

Giving him my best customer-service smile, I offer my hand and he shakes it. “Hello, I’m Presley.”

“A pleasure to meet you, miss. I’m Roger.” Then he looks at Dominic. “Boy, you just keep getting them younger, don’t you?”

It takes effort not to let my face fall. Jeez . . .

Dominic’s expression stays pleasant, but the look he gives Roger is razor sharp. “Presley is only four years younger than me, actually. She also happens to be brilliant. She went to Brown University on full scholarship, she’s interned at several of the Northwest’s top companies in finance and leadership, and in high school, she won the national coding competition four years in a row.”

Roger and I both blink at him, stunned. Butterflies fill my stomach. Dominic has every reason to flatter this guy, but I secretly like the way he leaped in to defend me.

And how did he remember all that stuff? Dominic has my résumé, it makes sense that he’d know everything about my career accomplishments, but I’m surprised he can rattle off so much from memory. The warmth in my chest grows at the thought.

Roger clears his throat. “That, ah . . . yes, that’s quite the list. Should we have a seat and order some dinner?”

Dominic’s lips twitch with the hint of a smile. “Perfect,” he replies in a sunny tone. “I’m looking forward to getting down to details, but first we need some refills on drinks.” He nods to Roger’s wineglass, which is half-empty.

We sit, with Dominic between Roger and me. I try not to look visibly shocked at the prices as I study the menu.

Dominic leans close. “What would you like to drink?”

It’s unnerving having him so close, but not entirely unwelcome. His crisp, masculine scent—leather, and cedar, and something I can’t name washes over me, and the heat from his thigh is so close.

“Um . . .” It’s hard to think with him almost touching me . . . not to mention that deep, smooth voice practically murmuring in my ear. “Is there a white wine here you recommend?” Hopefully that sounds sophisticated enough to mask the fact that I usually just grab whatever has the smallest price tag.

“They have a pinot gris that’s quite good. I’ll order us both a glass.” In a softer tone, he adds, “You’re doing fine, by the way.” Then he pats my knee reassuringly under the table.

I almost gasp when his touch sends an electric jolt straight up my thigh and beyond.

He’s just being nice, I sternly tell myself. Absolutely platonic. But my body doesn’t care. It reacts the same way it would if any attractive, eligible man were touching it.

Pressing my knees together, I force my attention back to the menu.