The Billionaire's Intern. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
all of it seemed wrong. And right now everything felt random and uncertain. She didn’t trust life at all.
Addison let out a sharp breath and shook her head, closing her eyes briefly before walking on and to Logan’s office. It hit her then she wasn’t sure if they were staying here today or going out. That she wasn’t sure if he went out at all.
She had no way to predict her new boss’s eccentricities. He was an enigma, and that was the last thing she’d been expecting when Austin told her she was coming to work for Logan Black.
Yes, she’d seen the headlines. What’s wrong with Logan Black? But she still hadn’t known what to expect. She still didn’t.
She knocked on the office door and didn’t get an answer. She pushed it open and looked inside. Empty. Well, great. Where was she supposed to meet him? Had he gone to his corporate office? And had she been meant to guess that?
She let out an exasperated sigh and stood in the middle of the room for a moment, tapping her foot. Then she walked to the desk and dialed a zero to get the front desk. A chipper, professional woman answered.
“Hi,” Addison said. “This is Addison Treffen, Mr. Black’s new assistant.” She was an intern, but assistant sounded more authoritative. “I can’t seem to find him. Did he go out?”
“Oh,” the woman said. “No. I would assume he’s in his suite. He might be in his gym.”
“And where is that?” Addison asked.
“His floor. But no one is to disturb Mr. Black when he’s in his suite.”
Addison blinked. His floor. This one, not quite the top, which would of course be reserved for guests wanting penthouse suites, was Logan’s domain. She should have realized that. There wasn’t a bustle of employees or unfamiliar faces on this floor.
It was only him. And now…her.
The thought made her stomach tighten. She immediately visualized walking into a tiger’s cage unarmed.
“Right. Well. Thank you, for that. I will…carry on.” Addison hung up the phone and let out a long, slow breath.
So, no one was to disturb Mr. Black when he was in his room. Well, that had not been in her list of rules from yesterday. And while she hadn’t, in fact, written any of his rules down, she remembered well enough to know he hadn’t mentioned anything along those lines.
In spite of that, she was reluctant to disturb him. Dealing with Logan was unnerving. He lacked a carefully cultivated veneer that most everyone she was accustomed to interacting with seemed to possess. He was guarded, certainly, but this was not with the cloak of civility.
No, Logan seemed more animal than man in his movements. Not even his custom suits could make him look like a typical businessman. He was never still, always prowling through the office like a cat on the hunt.
It made her wonder what exactly he was hunting. Scratch that, she didn’t want to know. She was afraid she wouldn’t like the answer.
She crossed the office and headed to his desk, taking a seat in the large leather chair. She flattened her palms on the glossy surface, sliding her hands over the smooth desktop. One positive thing she could say about him was that he was neat. There wasn’t one bit of excess clutter in the entire room. No errant knickknacks, no decorative art. Nothing that signified a human man actually worked here all day, every day.
He wasn’t wrong about the number of phone calls he got. They came in a steady stream from nine o’clock on. Black Properties employees with important questions and various emergencies.
Hours rolled on and calls continued to roll in, but her boss remained notably absent. After lunch she was starting to get second and third calls from people who had called that morning, and who were getting increasingly desperate to speak to Mr. Black.
Addison was starting to care less and less that Mr. Black did not like to be disturbed when he was in his rooms. She had a feeling that had she elected to come into work hours late today, he would’ve stormed her room, thrown her over his shoulder and carried her down into the office by force.
Granted, he was the boss, but even so. She had a list people for him to call back, and she had a feeling that most of them were quite important. Which meant she had to decide whether or not she thought she would get into more trouble for interrupting Mr. Black in his hallowed suite, or for failing to deliver potentially essential messages.
Going back to the rules from earlier, she decided she’d take a chance on finding his suite.
Addison was rarely at a loss when it came to dealing with people. Keeping social wheels greased, making sure people were happy, reading their moods, was part and parcel to being Jason and Lenore Treffen’s daughter. To being a trophy-wife-in-training.
Logan made her feel as though she was at a loss.
She did not like the feeling. She was disturbed already without feeling she’d lost the sense of how to deal with social situations.
Addison stepped slowly out of the office and into the hall. As always, it was quiet on this floor. She looked both ways, then went back in the direction of her room, her eyes on the different doors. And she was suddenly unbearably curious about what might be behind each one. Were they all his? All entrances to his suite? How large was it?
Large enough for a gym, apparently.
This was his habitat, his lair—for lack of a better word. Dark, enclosed. Private and lush. Which fit with her earlier realization that he was more predator than human.
Thinking of it that way made her question her decision to confront him here, but she’d made up her mind. She was here to assist him and to make sure she facilitated his work, and right now, with him in hiding, she couldn’t do that.
She knocked on one door and tried the handle. Locked and no answer.
Then she went two doors down and paused. There was no card reader or code. Just an old-fashioned brass handle. She pushed it down and it gave.
She opened the door and slipped inside. The air inside the room was heavy. She’d been expecting a bedroom, a well-appointed sitting room or, you know, just a room with lights on.
But she was starting to realize that the only thing she could count on, as far as Logan went, was unpredictability.
A deep, masculine sound cut through the silence like a bass note. Addison stopped, her eyes going to the back of the room. Partly hidden in the darkness was a steel bar stretched between two poles, and there, suspended in the air, was Logan, holding a chin-up pose, his eyes closed, every muscle in his body tight. Hard and unmoving like stone. He lowered himself and she watched, shamelessly. Powerlessly, really. Riveted by the shift and ripple of every muscle in his bare torso as he moved with complete control, with a slow deliberation that spoke of discipline in a clear and silent way.
Then she watched as he pulled himself back up, the only sign of strain in the slight shiver of his pectoral muscles as he did.
She drew in a sharp, short breath and his eyes opened. He released his hold on the bar, dropping to his feet noiselessly, landing in a crouched position, down in the darkness.
She couldn’t read his expression from her position across the room, his face nothing more than dark shadow, his broad frame lined in gold from the hints of sunlight streaming in beneath the heavy drapes on the back wall.
He stood upright, moving his body into the light. He rolled his shoulders back, ab muscles shifting with the motion. Yesterday’s clothing had only hinted at his strength. Here, she could see it unveiled, no custom-made suit covering his body as a nod to civility. In this place she could see full evidence of the animal he was.
And he really was quite an impressive animal.
“What are you doing in here?”
“I was looking for you,” she said. “I’ve taken about twenty messages this morning, and people are starting to get restless.