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

Chapter 6

“Is that all Mr. Carrero?” I finish my notes and push the pen in the top of the notebook with a sigh. Clammier now than ever.

“I’d like a copy of the letter sent to my father’s email and I would like it if you would call me Jake! … Like I asked!” He lifts his feet to his desk, swiveling his chair back to face it and regards me with a relaxed, smug look.

“If that’s what you prefer?” I’m not used to employers showing so little concern for titles, or who behave so casually. I’m more than a little disappointed in the laxness I’ve seen from both Margo and Jake so far. In the way they behave with each other and it has me a little at unease. Here he is, sitting with his feet on his thousand-dollar desk, like a lounging teenager and it kills the image I once had of him.

“I’m not Mr. Carrero … That’s my father.” His eyes flicker to the photo on his desk and I catch a dark shadow in them. He slides his feet back down, as though not so relaxed with that one tiny word - father. It’s gone before I can decide if I saw it or not and I shiver inwardly. Men and their dark looks don’t bode well with me; it’s one of the few things which unnerve me deeply enough to bring me out in a cold sweat.

“Okay, Jake!” It’s almost painful to use his name, even if he insists. And it’s forced. He seems to return to smiling, looking pleased as I stand, indicating my departure.

“Do you like working here, Emma?” he catches me off guard, leans forward onto his desk resting his arms in front of him, halting my escape for a moment. I pause, stunned by his question.

“So far,” I answer without thought, wondering why he even cares.

“Five years is a long time to work for this company,” his voice is soothing to listen to, despite my reservations about him and I note how his tone alters when he’s not talking business. He has this way of capturing you with just a subtle change, drawing you in. His relaxed natural voice is almost sensual, but overall comforting, genuine; he seems to have the art of relaxing people down to a finely-honed skill. The art of making women want to chat to him effortlessly.

Very good, very clever. Win over women with feigned interest. Smooth player.

“I guess I’m someone who likes to stick to something and work at it. See where it takes me.” I tap my notebook against my hip in distraction, trying not to react to that voice.

again, something he does a lot whenever I’m faced with him and I still haven’t gotten used to it. Eyes eating me up as though I’m a puzzle to be worked out. I

opportunities most twenty-six-year-old women never get the chance to experience.” I shrug. Trying to will those sharp eyes to look elsewhere and to stop tearing into

never aspired to be anything different?” he watches me thoughtfully, if not

on my shoes, that internal rising awkwardness at

amused with his remark, but I fail to see the

position, Mr. Carrero … I worked hard to climb from admin assistant to

that’s lucky for me then.” He throws me his “I can charm anyone” smile and I internally bristle. I want to get out of here. He obviously knows he’s hot and he uses it to his advantage a little too

“Perhaps.”

tell, Miss. Anderson … You can go now, see if Margo is back to relieve you. That letter is not urgent so take lunch first.” He smiles me away, obviously bored with my lack of female swooning, with what I

throw him a tight smile and catch the flicker of amusement in his eye; aware now that he knows how much I dislike the

Carrero … Here for your

walk toward the heavy door, mood ruined by his smug face and bubbling a tad hotly inside

for two tonight, at Manhattan Penthouse at nine, in my name?” he adds quickly, and I turn back to nod that I have heard him.

being wined and

ran out of headboard space to keep a tally of notches for his conquests and

urge to stick my fingers up with venom surprises me. I guess I’ll have to get used to the reactions he pulls out of me. Work harder to remain impassive. Seems he has an ability to piss me off without effort or without real

us from the ceiling, like a wave of relief. I’m sticky, hot,

badly lit mirror on the wall, to see I’m glowing red. My cheeks are flushed, there’s high color across the nape of my neck, and I have a dewy complexion where my make-up has sweated. My hair is no longer slick and smooth in its bun but is weaving its way loose, despite the products I use to keep it sleek. I have natural waves which I straighten to get my hair

This is exclusive content from Dramanovels.com. Please visit Dramanovels.com to support the author and the translation team!

Comments ()

0/255