Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Works like a charm.
I give her a polite smile and turn on my heel before a wicked grin spreads across my face. I’m too fucking good at this.
After pressing the elevator call button, I wait, watching the numbers on the little screen as the elevator flies up and down the many levels. Once I step into the glass box and press number 38, the doors inch shut, and I watch the view as the elevator takes off through the beautiful skyscraper. I have to admit, when it comes to developing high-rise buildings, Baxter Corporation clearly knows what they’re doing.
Reaching level 38, I step out of the elevator and find a heavy glass door with Christian Baxter, CEO written across the front.
Pushing through, I come face to face with yet another receptionist, or maybe it’s his personal assistant. Who knows? But the one thing I do notice about her is that she looks a lot like me, and within seconds, my mind is racing with the endless possibilities of how I can use this to my advantage.
I step up to the young girl who looks at me with a bright, welcoming smile. “Hi,” she starts. “You must be Sophie. Welcome to Baxter Corporation. My name is Aimee.”
“Thank you, Aimee,” I say, pleasantly surprised that the front desk actually communicated with upstairs.
“Forgive me for asking, but can you remind me of the nature of your appointment?”
“Of course,” I smile. “As I mentioned to your receptionist downstairs, I’m from Daily Star Magazine, and I have an interview with Mr. Baxter.”
“Oh,” she says, with her eyes widening in surprise. “What’s the interview in relation to?”
“Mr. Baxter has been nominated for this year’s Sexiest Bachelor award,” I say with an immature giggle, acting like a dumb high-school bimbo excited about his nomination. “I just need a few comments from him, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Right,” she says as her eyebrows crease together in confusion. “Wasn’t he awarded that last month?”
“No,” I say with a slight shake of my head, trying to appear as professional as possible while also pulling out the dreamy Oh my God, your boss is so cool vibe. “That was the Money Makers Under Forty award. Now all the ladies are going to know he’s not only a bachelor, but he’s raking it in too,” I grin with a playful wink.
Aimee’s face flushes, and she finally agrees to take me in. She leads me down a long hallway before taking me through a maze of glass-windowed offices, and I make sure to commit her every move to memory. At the end of the hall, she swipes her key card, and I’m ushered straight into Christian Baxter’s office.
His office is huge, and I spot Christian instantly, talking on his phone as he stands at the massive room-length window. I know he heard my entrance by the sound of my heels clicking on his polished marble floor, though being the pompous ass that he is, he ignores me and forces me to wait until he’s good and ready.
Making myself at home, I head over to his bar, grab a glass tumbler, and fill it with ice water. I gingerly take my time shuffling toward the massive couch to get comfortable, wanting to see what vibes he gives off when frustrated or just slightly inconvenienced. As he ignores me, I pull out my notepad of ridiculous questions and my pen, making sure to click it a few times before absentmindedly tapping my fingernails on the side of the glass tumbler.
I do my best to take in his office, working out where he would keep personal files and any kind of information on his competitors. Let’s face it, this guy hasn’t said a word to me yet, and I can already tell he plays dirty. Whether or not he did what I think he might have done, there will be some sort of story within these walls. The fun is digging it out.
Five minutes later, Christian finally ends his call and turns to me with an annoyed scowl. The moment he takes me in, his gaze narrows and a sleazy grin takes over his face, making my skin crawl.
He takes a few steps toward me and I rise up off the couch, not wanting to put myself in a vulnerable position. Placing himself before me, Christian holds a hand out, and I do the same. The moment he takes in my wedding rings and protruding baby bump, his face pulls up in disgust and disinterest.
Score one for me . . . I think.
“I’m Christian Baxter. How can I help you?” he asks, dropping my hand, trying to sound the least bit professional.
I give him a polite smile. “Sophie Meyers,” I inform. “I’m here with Daily Star Magazine, covering your Sexiest Bachelor of the Year nomination.”
“Huh?” he grunts. “Did I not do this interview a few weeks ago?”