Questions

The phone rang emitting a soft light chime and he arched a brow at her. “We usually try to answer it by the ninth ring. Try something like ‘Michaels Oil’ or ‘Richmond Michaels office’ He turned away from her entering an alcove off to her left. Katrina reached across the desk and pressed the button, picking up the receiver. “Michaels Oil, Richmond Michaels office.” “Oh. This is Kathy from Office Temps. The person we scheduled to fill his position today called out. We can have someone there by noon.” Katrina stared at the desk, replayed the man’s hurried comments and came to the obvious conclusion. “It won’t be necessary.” “Oh no. Did he go to another company?” the woman asked, sounding as if her pet goldfish just died. Katrina almost felt bad for the way the woman’s voice quivered as she asked the question. “No, it’s just for today. He’ll be in touch.” She noticed he was returning to the room. “It’s fine. Thanks for checking,” she added, quickly disconnecting the call. “Anyone leave a message?” “Office Temps following up. The original person they scheduled called out so I’m filling in.” Katrina took a deep breath, hoping he hadn’t heard the rest of the conversation. Well, technically she wasn’t lying because she had stated the facts. She could stay around answering the phone. How she would break it to them that she was actually a reporter would have to be dealt with sometime later today. She wondered if Richmond Michaels was in the other office or hadn’t arrived yet. It would explain the guy’s tension, trying to get a receptionist in place before the boss arrived. “Good. Don’t believe anything anyone who has been here might have told you. We don’t bite. We do expect a certain amount of professionalism in the staff. The girl yesterday was supposed to be working on a file we need for our attorney, who should be here any time now. I can’t find a damn thing on this desk. Will you please dig through this disaster and see if you can locate it? ‘Attention Henry Tibbs’ should be written on it somewhere. Other than that, take some time to familiarize yourself with the work your co-workers screwed up over the past week. Just take messages. If it’s anyone with the press, feel free to hang up on them. Or tell them we don’t give interviews. How do you take your coffee?” Still talking, he returned to the alcove again. Did this guy ever take a breath, she wondered as she sat down in the chair behind the desk? Cluttered and screwed up would be an understatement. Dear God, what had she stepped into? He covered five or six subjects in a single breath, ending with how did she take her coffee? Seriously? Before she could answer her own questions he appeared holding two coffee cups, placing one on the ebony desk, near the phone. Katrina looked up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. “This desk looks like you allowed second graders to play on it.” He grinned at her, displaying slight dimples. “They also played on the computer and with the files as well. Lucky me, they didn’t write on the walls. Cream and sugar packets should be in the desk drawer. God only knows where.” Katrina lifted a file folder. “Attention Henry Tibbs, found it.” She turned to hand it to him. Her gaze lingered on his face. He would make a perfect model for GQ or a magazine on the anatomy of a perfect male. His blond hair had a strand that fell with abandon onto a tanned forehead and the rest was full, thick and touched the collar of his shirt. He was probably a few inches over six feet in height. His shirt was open at the collar, his slacks the color of a very dark starless sky. His watch had more diamonds than she had ever seen in one place and reflected the lighting each time he moved. Suddenly conscious that she was staring at him, she released her hold on the folder. “Thank you Miss…” he frowned. “Seems I was so surprised they sent someone who looked professional, I forgot to ask your name. It would be unprofessional for me to call you ‘hey you’ all day, now wouldn’t it?” “Katrina Roberts. And you would be…? “Eric Hollister.” The grin returned as he waited for her reaction. “The Eric Hollister?” The question was out before she thought about how lame it sounded. “As opposed to any other Eric Hollister who might be lurking on the fortieth floor of Richmond Towers? Yes.” “Well, you do have a somewhat gruff reputation. You caught me off guard.” She rolled her eyes. “That didn’t come out right, did it? I thought this was Richmond Michaels office.” “It is. We share.” There was that grin again as if she amused him by not knowing who he was. “Will he be in later today?” “I doubt it, but he comes and goes. Not through the front doors though. If someone asks for him specifically, tell them whatever comes to mind. He’s in another city, state or country. No, you have no idea when he will be available. If it’s the press, the answer doesn’t need to even be polite. No and hell no will suffice.” Katrina took a sip of her coffee, still coming to terms with the fact that this soft spoken, well-mannered man was the one who had a reputation almost as cold as Mr. Michaels when it came to dealing with reporters. Of course for now he didn’t know she was a reporter.