Page 3 of Texting the Possessive CEO
CHAPTER 2
DOMINIC
Izzy Jenkins walks into the office, balancing two coffee mugs. She’s an attractive woman, no doubt about that. Short with curves that show through the high-vis and the chunky jeans and boots she’s wearing. Her eyes are bright, somewhat withdrawn, but intelligent.
She places the coffee in front of me. I smell her perfume, then push that thought away. I am not the sort of man who notices my employee’s perfume.
“Thank you,” I say.
She steps back, hands clasped in front of her, as though she’s a servant waiting for instructions. It leaves a foul taste in my mouth.
“Is there anything else, sir?” she asks expectantly.
I wave a hand at Ethan and Cindy. “Could you two give us a moment? I’d like to speak to the new hire.”
They leave immediately. Cindy gives me a look as she leaves, one I’m familiar with. I’ve never once returned the look or givenher any indication I want this sort of attention. I don’t date employees. Never have. Never will?
That’s not a question. It’s a goddamn reality.
“Please, sit,” I say when we’re alone.
She gestures to the hard hat on her head. “May I?”
“Sure, you don’t have to wear them inside.”
She sits opposite me and sets her hat on the edge of my desk. Her hair spills out, wild, unruly, and beautiful. I swallow the thought, bury it deep.
“Is this your first day?” I ask.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m not big into corporate culture,” I tell her. “If you want to call mesirormister, go ahead. But Dom’s just fine too.”
And yet, bossing her around, not in a work context…
She’s a young woman trying to make her way in the world, for fuck’s sake.
I take a sip of coffee. “You get an A-plus here.”
She smiles, averting her pretty eyes.
“So, why did you leave your last job?” I ask.
Her eyebrows shoot up. She looks at me as though she’s afraid to answer.
“Hey, relax,” I tell her. “This isn’t a second interview. My company has grown. A lot. But when I started this business, I made a promise to get to know my employees. I’ve never wantedto be one of those bosses who frightens his workers… except when I need to.”
She stares at me with wide, scared eyes.
“T-that was a joke,” I say quickly, putting my hand on the table… then quickly removing it.
What am I thinking? Was I going to push my hand toward hers, touch her, which I’ve got no damn right to do? I need to keep my head. I don’t know what’s come over me except she’s gorgeous and shy, and maybe I’ve been working too much.
But hell, I’ve met pretty women before and never had to force myself to focus this hard before.
“Oh,” she murmurs.
“I’m not very funny, I know,” I chuckle sheepishly.
