The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Within a moment all of them are in his office, past Margo’s inner door, and it’s closed. I take a deep breath of relief and try again to type this document out, meeting with my usual success. Quick and swift skill with a keyboard now that I have no visual distractions.

It seems like an eternity has passed when my switchboard lights up, and the distant voice of Margot interrupts my concentration. I was unaware I’d been semi holding my breath until that second and give myself another stern inner shake.

“Emma, please come into Mr. Carrero’s office. Thank you.” The voice sounds distant and tinny on the remarkably high-tech machine.

“Yes, Mrs. Drake.” I flinch at my use of her full name, knowing she asked me to call her Margo. I mentally scold myself to not repeat the mistake.

I don’t make mistakes. Ever.

I slide up, smoothing down my clothes and putting my jacket back on quickly. Buttoning it up nervously as I walk the small distance to her door which blocks entrance to his.

It takes all my willpower to walk into the office, and all of my acting ability, dredged up from somewhere deep, to pull off the undaunted calm demeanor that I try to present at all times. My stomach-turning somersaults, and my throat drying up. I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble with it today.

“Ah, Emma, here you are.” Margo meets me as I pull open the heavy wooden door and slide in. Suddenly conscious of how short I am, even in my spike heels, next to her swan like body. She stands tall for a woman and I stand at around five feet four.

“Jake, this is Emma Anderson. She’s your new assistant in training. Your new number two.” She smiles fondly at me and gestures me to come to her. I move beside her and get the gentle familiar pat on my shoulder as she tries to put me at ease.

I blink a few times, pausing at the use of the name Jake.

Am I missing something here?

It dawns on me he prefers the name Jake. Brain clicking with memories from my research. He corrected many interviewers and I remember he likes the informality and encourages using his first name; shortened first name.

slip away to nothing and I’m held captive to the floor, unable to speak as the object of my nerves gets out of his seat.

or abilities. Someone who knew from early in life that he was devastatingly

and suit, minus a tie and top buttons open. The

Jeeze.

all I can do is reach out and shake the neatly manicured, yet oddly masculine, hand. I’m painfully aware of the way

this way. It’s alien to me and has me shifting on my own axis. I don’t like being forced out of my comfort zone and into

voice is feeble. I’m

in, leaving me

will be training you a little more extensively in time, to step in fully when she retires. I guess that means we should get better acquainted on a first name basis.” He throws me a charming, soft smile, and I’m not immune to the effect. It’s a gesture that hints that

win over women is it, Carrero? Melting them with

is smooth and inhumanely warm in mine, and I’m starting to feel clammy. Anxious

still, Emma … Stay cool. Stop

opportunity.” I sound normal enough, only a slight waver in my voice this time and

me. Just an interested appraisal as he tries to measure me up. I guess he’s used to women going all weak-kneed and pie-eyed at his presence and it interests him that I don’t appear to be. I’m glad he can’t see my internal reactions, as they are behaving

shoulders and toned body, straining behind the expensive clothing. I know from photographs he prefers more casual attire than suits and ties most of the time. He’s sexually intimidating and so far out of my league in every way and

blushing, heat emanating from my roots and scowl

back into my parched mouth and keep my eyes off his

watching me with a strange look in her eye, and I realize it’s a touch of uncertainty. Mr. Carrero moves off

Shit!

with the hots for Mr. Carrero.

back my professional air and grace. I hate that I’ve