The office doors swing open to reveal Alastair Walker—the CEO of Cupid’s Arrow, and the one person I answer to around here.
“How’s the morning slug going, my dear Alexandra?” he asks in that British accent he hasn’t quite been able to shake off, even after living in Chicago for a decade. He’s adjusting his sharp suit as he saunters into the room. For his age, he’s a particularly handsome man, his gray hair and the soft creases of his face doing little to steal the limelight from his tanned skin and toned body.
At the sight of him, Ben quickly eases back.
“The slug is moving sluggishly, you might say,” I admit, smiling in greeting.
When Alastair walks in, everyone in the room stands up straighter. I’m glad my team knows how to behave themselves when the boss of the boss is around. But my own smile falters when I notice the tall dark-haired man falling into step beside Alastair.
A young man.
A very hot man.
One in a crisp charcoal suit, haphazardly knotted red tie and gorgeous designer shoes, with recklessly disheveled hair and scruff along his jaw.
Our gazes meet. My mouth dries up. I’m completely dazed all of a sudden. I’ve never seen a guy look so handsome or so cool without even trying.
He’s got a head of dark brown curls.
Light brown, almost amber eyes.
The shadow of a beard across a square jaw.
A body to die for.
Tall. With shoulders a mile wide, perfectly hugged by his unbuttoned jacket.
I don’t know what he’s doing with Alastair, but I know he’s the best-looking man I’ve ever seen in my life.
It’s like the whole room shifted on its axis when he entered. And not only that, but it feels like somebody just tilted my axis a little bit to the left, a little bit to the right, and now, I can’t seem to set it back to center.
“Everyone. I’d like to present my youngest son, the black sheep of the family.” Alastair slaps the younger man on his back. The man’s lips curve in amusement, but I notice that his eyes gleam in something like challenge over Alastair’s black sheep comment.
A prick of empathy stabs me in the chest as I watch him step forward and finish for his father. “Kit Walker,” he says, his voice deep and rich. His gaze pauses on me, and my chest constricts again as we stare.
“And this,” Alastair tells him as he motions Kit forward, “is Cupid Arrow’s secret weapon, Alexandra Croft.”
Amber eyes hold mine and won’t seem to let me go.
Breathe, Alex!
Kit stretches out his hand. “A black sheep and a secret weapon. Sounds like a dangerous combination,” he says in a low, teasing tone.
“Both easily underestimated,” I add with a smile. I’m pleased that my voice is level as I extend my hand to shake his. His grip is warm, his eyes gleaming with curiosity and amusement—and something else. Something like respect.
He seems intrigued by my comment, aimed to let him know that I understand his frustration with his father. I don’t think my parents expected me ever to get where I am.
“A pleasure to meet you, Kit,” I say.
“The pleasure’s mine.” He speaks in a toe-curling British accent that should be outlawed in the States.
I realize we’re both staring and pull my hand free, embarrassed my team saw me ogle him. I’ve heard stories about Alastair’s youngest son. None of them good. Of course now that I see he has playboy looks to match his playboy reputation, I can believe that every single one of them is true.
“Well, why don’t you all introduce yourselves to my son while I speak to Miss Croft?” Alastair tells the team. “Ben, we’ll see you down in Tech later.”
“Yes, sir,” Ben instantly says.
Ben nods at Kit and Kit nods back, then my friend squeezes my arm in a gesture of comfort before he goes back to his floor.
Kit watches him disappear with a mild frown of curiosity on his face, then his gaze returns to me. It’s inquisitive. Intense. I shake it off and briskly follow Alastair into his office.
Don’t glance back, Alexandra. You’ve never allowed a guy to distract you and you aren’t about to start now.
But I can’t shake off the tingle in my hand, lingering from where Kit Walker touched me.
Alastair opens the door to his office for us, gesturing for me to enter first. “Have a seat.”
I straighten my suit jacket as I enter, suddenly a little nervous. I barely ever make room for nerves in my life. Usually, everything is on my own terms, and I can’t help feeling relaxed that way. But this mysterious meeting has thrown me off. Suddenly, I’m paranoid that my job might be on the line.
Can it be?
Don’t be silly, Alexandra, this place would crumble without you.
Alastair laughs at my expression as he crosses the room to sit behind his desk. “There’s nothing to worry about, Alexandra. You know how much I value your contributions. Now please, sit down.”
I’m awash with relief. I try and regain my composure, settling for a wan smile as I take a seat.
Alastair threads his fingers together and places them on top of his desk.
“This is hard for me to say. We’ve been colleagues for some time now, and you’re one of my top employees. That’s why I’m letting you know before the rest of the team—I’m leaving, Alex.”
“What do you mean?” I sit up straighter, alarm shooting through me.
Alastair chuckles. “I thought you’d be pleased to see the back of me.”
“Of course not!” I cry. How can my boss be leaving? Leaving where?
“I’m messing with you, Alex. Just teasing.” Alastair watches me fondly, sipping the tea his assistant, John, brings to his desk.
“I don’t know why you’re so surprised. We all have to retire at some point. Even workaholics like you, eventually.”
“Well, yes. But you’re still...”
“Young?” Alastair finishes for me. He laughs again, shaking his head. “One of the things I love most about you is that you’re so funny without meaning to be. Are you telling me you didn’t see this coming?”
“Of course not. You didn’t exactly give us any warning.”
Alastair waves his hand dismissively. “Well. I’m telling you now. In fact, you’re the first person to find out. I’m announcing my retirement officially at the end of the week.”
I resist the urge to chew my nails, but I can’t help feeling anxious. New management could change everything. I’m comfortable here in part because Alastair is British and has a laid-back management style. He moved here over two decades ago with his first wife, a wealthy American, and stayed here even after his divorce. He has been a very easy and kind boss. He basically gives me the run of my office. I’m able to do things my own way. If he leaves, what else will change?
“So what does this mean for us?” I ask. “And why are you telling me?”
“I’ll get to that in a moment. I actually have a favor to ask.”
“Anything you want,”