Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Fling (Wrong #2.5) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Jana Aston |
| Language: | English |
| Book Information: | |
I have a crush on my boss’ best friend. At least it’s not my brother’s best friend. Or my best friend’s brother. Or… never mind. It’s all pretty cliche. And worse? My boss’ best friend is his business partner. Which sort of makes him my boss too. Okay - it’s not sort of. It’s definite. Gabe Laurent is off limits. Totally off limits. Which is fine. I make do with my imagination. He’ll never know. Ever. Unless my work bestie passes me an eighties-style teen movie sex quiz during a meeting and I fill it out. And it ends up in Gabe’s hands… | |
| Books in Series: | Wrong Series by Jana Aston |
| Books by Author: | Jana Aston Books |
One
Sandra
Sometimes company meetings are dull. I try not to feel that way, because I take my job at Clemens Corporation seriously, and I’m grateful to be employed. I tend to take most things seriously, but especially work.
I’m the executive assistant to the CEO. It’s very rewarding. I’m trusted. I’m needed. Mr. Camden relies on me and I never let him down. That’s what he says. “Sandra, you never let me down.” I anticipate what he needs before he needs it. I’m entrusted with confidential information that some senior-level managers don’t even get to see. I deliver on time. I’m part of a team.
So I try to pay attention during meetings. Even the really boring ones. I try to keep my eyes where they belong, on the presenter.
Gabe Laurent is not presenting today. So I should stop sneaking glances at him every thirty seconds. I should stop. Luckily, he’s sitting next to my boss, Sawyer Camden. I can fake like I’m making sure Mr. Camden doesn’t need me for anything if they catch me looking their way. Which they haven’t, because I am very, very good at sneaking glances at Gabe Laurent.
At least I’m not falling asleep. That would be worse than being caught staring at my secret crush. My coworker Preston isn’t faring as well. I nudge him under the table and his eyes pop open. He blinks and blows out a breath, then sits up straight in the seat next to mine, shuffling some papers around in front of him and jotting a note down on one of them.
He’s faking it. I don’t need to look over to know that the note is gibberish. We’ve been working together for about a year and friends almost as long. I can guarantee he’s either drawing pictures or making a shopping list.
We were given a survey to fill out on today’s meetings. It’s anonymous—they’re looking for honest feedback on the presentation and what we found useful or what can be improved on. I’ve filled it out completely, with examples. I’ve also outlined the entire meeting for my personal notes. Not that it needs to be done and not that anyone is going to ask for my notes, but still. It’s important to be thorough.
Preston has rated each presenter with a star system. For some, he’s noted, Please shut up, next to the rating. I eyeball his paper now. It appears he’s ditched the assigned survey and is crafting his own, his pen flying across the paper for the first time in over an hour.
I take another peek at Gabe. He looks a little bored himself, truthfully. We’re in the Langdon auditorium. This meeting room has stadium seating, which is ideal for presentations. There’s a state-of-the-art screen stretching across the front of the room. Seating for two hundred, in tiered rows so everyone has a great view of the screen and the presenter. The acoustics are ideal, and there’s work space in front of each chair complete with charging stations and an ergonomic chair. But the best part of this meeting space is the view of Gabe. He always sits in the front row next to Sawyer. I always pick the spot two rows behind him and over one, perfect for covert glancing. And my covert assessment is that Gabe is bored.
I ascertain this by the casual glances at his watch, the way he rests his head on his fingertips, elbow bent on the table in front of him. He looks interested in the presentation. He looks engaged. But I’ve been studying Gabe for a long time. And I know he’s bored. He leans over and says something to my boss, who nods and grins in response.
Gabe Laurent is ideal. My ideal, anyway. Way outta my league. And totally off limits. I mean, it’s not like he’s my boss, but he’s a boss. He’s the CFO at Clemens Corporation; he’s also my boss’ right-hand man, and his best friend. They graduated from Harvard together and then Gabe got a master’s degree in finance at Princeton while Sawyer started this company. A year later Gabe joined him and became part-owner of the company. They’ve been hugely successful, both millionaires by twenty-five. Over the next decade their success only continued to grow while they easily became the most eligible bachelors in Philadelphia, maybe the entire eastern seaboard, seemingly content to play the field and avoid settling down. I suspect my boss is ready to chuck his little black book though. A twenty-two-year-old college senior by the name of Everly Jensen has become the sole focus of his attention as of recently.
Smart turns me on. Sometimes Gabe wears these thick-rimmed glasses, kinda nerdish. Very Clark Kent. They drive me to the brink of distraction. And I do not like to be distracted. Focus is the name of my game. Focused, reliable Sandra.