What You Need (The Need You Series, Band 1) - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Lorelei James is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Mastered Series, featuring Caged and Unraveled, and the Blacktop Cowboys® Series, featuring Wrapped and Strapped and Hillbilly Rockstar. Her books have won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, as well as the CAPA Award. She lives in western South Dakota with her family.

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Chapter One

“What’s he doing in our department?”

I glanced up from my computer, knowing even before I saw the suit at the end of the hallway who garnered the reverent tone from my coworker Sydney. I had the same reverence for the man; however, I did a much better job at masking it.

“Oh hell, here he comes. How do I look?” she whispered.

“You know the only thing that matters to him is if you look busy.”

Sydney smoothed her hair. “Lennox, lighten up. And ignore me while I busily and silently compose sonnets to that man’s everything, because he is the total package.”

I laughed—longer than I usually did. “Go for it, Syd. I’ll just be over here, you know, doing my job while you’re waxing poetic about him.” I returned my focus to spell-checking my notes from this morning’s meeting. I knew I had a misspelled or misused word, but I couldn’t find the damn thing.

“Wait. He’s stopping to talk to Penny,” Sydney informed me.

I felt a slight sneer form on my lips. Of course he’s stopping to talk to Perky Penny—she hadn’t earned that nickname from her disposition. Even I couldn’t keep my eyes off her pert parts—which she kept properly covered in deference to the dress code at Lund Industries. But I knew that given the chance, she’d proudly display them as if she worked at Hooters.

Wouldn’t you?

Nope. Been there, done that.

Sydney muttered and I ignored her, hell-bent on finding the mistake. I leaned closer to the computer monitor, as if that would help. Ah, there it is. I highlighted the word in question. Had he meant to say disperse? Or disburse? And was there enough difference in the definitions to warrant a call for clarification?

Without checking the dictionary app on my computer, I said, “Sydney. You were an English major. What’s the difference between disperse and disburse?”

“Disburse means to pay out money. Disperse means to go in different directions,” a deep male voice answered.

I lifted my gaze to see none other than Brady Lund himself, the CFO of Lund Industries, looming over my desk.

Outwardly I maintained my cool even as I felt my neck heating beneath the lace blouse I wore. I picked up a pen and ignored the urge to give the man a once-over, because I already knew what I’d find: Mr. Freakin’ Perfect. Brady Lund was always impeccably dressed, showcasing his long, lean body in an insanely expensive suit. He was always immaculately coifed—his angular face smoothly shaven, his thick, dark hair artfully tousled, giving the appearance of boyish charm.

As if a shark could be charming.

My coworkers and I had speculated endlessly about whether the CFO plucked his dark eyebrows to give his piercing blue eyes a more visceral punch. And whether he practiced raising his left eyebrow so mockingly. For that reason alone I avoided meeting his gaze.

Okay, that was not the only reason. I didn’t make eye contact because the man defined hot, smart and sexy.

But he also defined smug—half the time. I wanted to ask if he job-shared with an evil twin, but I doubted he’d laugh since he had no sense of humor, from what I’d heard.

Aware that he awaited my response, I said, “Thank you for the clarification, Mr. Lund.”

“I shouldn’t have to clarify that since you’ve worked here for—what, ten months? Financial terms should be familiar to you by now.”

He was chastising me? First thing? My mouth opened before my brain screamed, STOP. “I’ve been employed here for almost a year, actually. And, sir, I’ll remind you that just because the office temps department is located on the sixth floor—one of the five floors that are the providence of the financial department—we floaters don’t specifically work only for the Finance department at Lund Industries. We also float between Human Resources, Marketing, Development and Acquisitions, as well as Legal.”

“Explain what you mean by floaters.”

“You had absolutely no idea that our small department exists, let alone what we do, do you?” I said tartly.

I heard Sydney suck in a sharp breath next to me. “What she means is that since as CFO you have an executive assistant and don’t normally personally utilize the services of the office temps—also known as floaters—you wouldn’t personally be aware of the breadth of our responsibilities,” Sydney inserted diplomatically. “Our department is supervised by Personnel.”

“Indeed. Then, please, enlighten me on which department you’re transcribing that document for?”

“Marketing.”

“Mind if I take a look?” Then he sidestepped my desk and sidled in behind me.

My body went rigid as he literally looked over my shoulder. I wasn’t as disturbed by the thought he might see something I had done wrong as I was by his close proximity. His very close proximity, since I could feel the heat of his body and was treated to a whiff of his subtle cologne.

He put his hand over mine on the mouse and murmured, “Pardon,” as he completely invaded my space. I didn’t move because it’d be my luck if I shifted my arm and elbowed the CFO in the groin.

Three clicks and two huffed breaths later, he retreated. “I apologize. I understand your confusion. Marcus in Marketing misused the word. It should be disburse. Nice catch.”

“That’s my job.”

“Since it’s a formal request, Marcus will have to correct it before you can pass it on to Legal. If you’ll give me the original paperwork, I’d be happy to drop it off in Marcus’s office on my way to my meeting.”

“Thank you, sir, for the offer. But company protocol requires me to deliver the paperwork directly to Marcus—Mr. Benito.”

His shoes were so silent I didn’t hear him move. One second he was behind me; the next he stood in front of me. “A real stickler for the rules, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” I finally met his gaze. “With all due respect, how do I know this isn’t some sort of performance review pretest?”

His lack of a smile indicated he wasn’t amused.

But I didn’t back down; I needed this job. It was the first job I’d ever had where I wasn’t slinging drinks or scrubbing toilets. Besides, the CFO—of all people—should be aware of the rules.

“Bravo, Miss Greene—sorry, that’s an assumption on my part. Or is it Mrs. Greene?”

“No, sir. Ms. Greene is fine. But I prefer to be called Lennox.”

Then Mr. Freakishly Perfect bestowed the mother lode of smiles; his lush lips curved up, his dimples popped out and the lines by his eyes crinkled. “Well, Lennox, please see that Marcus—Mr. Benito—is aware of his error before day’s end, because I will follow up on this.”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded and started down the hallway.

I clenched my teeth to keep my jaw from dropping. Not just from the weird interlude, but because the man looked as good from the back as he did from the front.

“Holy shit.” Sydney breathed after she was sure he’d gone. “What was that?”

“No idea.”

“Lennox. He knows your name.”

“Of course he knows my name. It’s right here on my desk.” Working as a floater meant my nameplate went everywhere with me, but on the days I...