“Is your hotel satisfactory?”
“It’s beautiful,” she assured. Calling her temporary home, the art deco–inspired Lutetia, a hotel seemed insulting.
“Good.” He nodded. “You should be comfortable there until you can find more permanent quarters.”
“I plan to look for something this weekend.”
“I expected you to have a place lined up before arriving.”
“I meant to, but...” Her voice trailed off.
“But time got away from you.”
Her shoulders stiffened at his slightly accusatory tone. She met his cool gaze with one of her own. So this was the way it was going to be? She sighed inwardly.
“Life happens, Mr. James,” she tightly informed him.
“Prudent planning is worth its weight in gold, Miss Carter.” He folded his arms across his broad chest. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Whenever possible.” She silently counted to ten and reminded herself he was her new boss, and she wanted this job.
* * *
Alexander remained silent while his eyes studied her from head to toe. She reminded him of a porcelain doll. Her shapely figure was accentuated by her crisp and professional black pantsuit. Her short tapered hairstyle perfectly framed her heart-shaped face, and her deep brown eyes were very expressive—at the moment, tinged with frustration. She was a beautiful woman, a fact he was angry at himself for noticing. She was his employee; she was here to work, and work she would!
“We’re having an in-house spring show at the end of next month and then a big yearly show at the end of August.” He sat back in his plush leather chair and tapped his desktop with his fingers. “You’re already a week behind.”
“You’ll find I’m not afraid of hard work, Mr. James,” she promised.
“For your sake I hope not.” He smiled without humor. “You have a lot of catching up to do.”
“For goodness’ sake, I’m only a week late—not a month,” she snapped.
“A lot of work can be lost in a week,” he informed tightly. “I don’t like wasting time.”
“Neither do I, Mr. James.”
“Really?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Actions speak louder than words, Miss Carter. I hope I didn’t make a mistake hiring you.”
She visibly bristled at his insinuation. “You didn’t.”
“Time will tell.” He wasn’t at all convinced. “I’m going to start you on the Bettina line. I trust you had time to familiarize yourself with the information packet I sent you.”
“Yes, I did,” she assured him. “Bettina is your casual and affordable chic line catering to the twenty to twenty-five age range.”
When he showed no signs of being impressed with her answer, she snapped open her portfolio and handed him five sketches.
“What are these?”
“Sketches I took the liberty of preparing while I kept you waiting.” Her voice was tinged with sarcasm, prompting him to raise one of his eyebrows.
Without a word, he flipped from one sketch to the next, purposefully keeping his expression unreadable. They were good, very good, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that yet. He needed to see what she was made of—find out if she possessed the dedication and stamina to handle the demands he would place on her.
He wasn’t running a nursery, and he had no intention of coddling her or any of his employees. Her actions made him question his choosing her for the coveted position with his company, and he didn’t like second-guessing himself. She’d cut it or she’d be out on the door before she could blink her pretty brown eyes. After a cursory exploration of the designs, he placed them on his desk and stared at her silently.
“Well?” She bristled under his cool scrutiny.
“It’s nice to know you gave some thought to work while we waited for you to show up.”
“What do you think of them?” She seemed to be fighting the urge to scream in frustration.
“They’re adequate.” He shrugged. “They could have been passable had you been here on time.”
He almost smiled when her eyes darkened angrily. “Mr. James, how many times...”
“I hope you had a nice time while you kept us waiting, Miss Carter, because I’m going to work you until you drop,” he darkly promised, interrupting her tirade before it could begin.
“Give it your best shot, Mr. James.” She picked up her sketches and replaced them in her portfolio.
He punched a button on his phone, “Jean, send in Monique.” He stood and returned his attention to Nicole. “That’ll be all, Miss Carter. Monique, one of my dedicated head designers, will show you to your workstation. If you need anything, let her know.”
Right on cue, a rap sounded on his door, and it opened to admit Monique, a smiling, slender African-American woman who honed in on Nicole. She and Nicole were about the same height, though Monique was a couple of years older. Her long black hair was pulled away from her smiling face.
“Hi, Nicole. I’m Monique.” She extended a hand, which Nicole shook. “Welcome to Alexander’s.”
“Thank you.” Nicole smiled at her genuine welcome. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Monique glanced at a stoic Alexander. “I’ll show you around if the boss is done with you.”
“We’re through for now,” Alex agreed, sitting back down behind his desk. “Thanks, Monique.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Monique opened the door and waited for her to gather her belongings. “Ready, Nicole?”
“More than.” Nicole sighed and left the office. Alex watched them go, his eyes boring into her back.
* * *
She repressed the urge to stomp out of his office as she preceded Monique through the door. What an infuriating man! She sighed audibly once the door closed behind them.
Monique chuckled. “That bad, huh?”
“No, it was fine.” At Monique’s skeptical look she elaborated. “He is...” She paused, not sure if she was talking to a friend or a foe. “It was fine,” she reiterated.
Monique laughed, linked her arm through Nicole’s and pulled her away. “Oh, I’ll bet!” She smiled and whispered conspiratorially, “You can trust me. I’m a fellow New Yorker.”
“Really?” Nicole brightened at the mention of home.
“Mmm-hmm, born and raised. I transferred from Alexander’s New York office five years ago. You’re planning on transferring to that office after your six months here, right?”
“Yes,” Nicole confirmed. Right now, she couldn’t wait for that day to come. “Do you like it here?”
“I love it.” Monique beamed. “You will, too. I promise.”
“This is a fantastic opportunity for me. I plan to make the most of it.”
“I’ll help you any way I can,” Monique promised. “I predict we’re going to be good friends.”
“I think so, too,” Nicole agreed.
“Definitely,” Monique assured. “How about some coffee before I show you to your station?”
“I’d