In Love With My Personal Assistant(11)

Listening to his story, Jennifer nodded, almost as if in a trance. She  knew James was hardworking; but she never knew that he was … well, that.  She read about men like that in Forbes magazine and their Fortune 400  list. And to think, she had been working beside a self-made  multimillionaire for five years and never even knew it.

Her expression must have changed as the realization dawned on her. When  she met James again, the playful smirk was gone and a somber look rested  in its place.

"Didn't know that about me, did you?" He asked curiously.

Jennifer shook her head with a jerky movement. She cleared her throat  and placed her hand along the handle on the inside of the door.

"I guess I thought most men probably inherited a bit."

James smiled. "Most are like that," he admitted. "But there are still a  good number of us who worked for it the old fashioned way."

Swallowing back clumping dry lumps in her throat, Jennifer forced a heaving breath. "Well, that's pretty incredible."

"Yeah, but you already knew that about me, didn't, you?" He chuckled and  leaned towards her slightly in the car. Jennifer pushed her back into  the car door, her eyes widening with bewilderment. She had no idea what  James intended to do. Instead, he only leaned forward slightly with a  beautiful smile on his face and pointed behind her.

"You should relax," He said softly, looking over her. He nodded towards her window. "We're here."

Turning to follow his gesture, Jennifer chuckled nervously. Out the  window, she saw a single jet waiting with the stairs let down. It was a  small plane, but from the car, Jennifer saw that it had two engines.

"Wow," Jennifer breathed. Excitement bubbled in her gut. "Why haven't I  flown in a private jet with you before?" She asked, pulling her suitcase  and purse into her lap. The driver of the vehicle was easing into the  black top. A loading crew waited around the base of the plane and  flagged the car forward.

James smirked. "I usually take a jet when you've gone ahead of me. If we  had matters as pressing as this before, we would have simply taken a  jet."

"Of course," Jennifer mocked. They chuckled together, their eyes  lingering. Catching her breath, Jennifer straightened herself in the  seat and moved from away from the door. Her arm brushed against James.  She didn't know how that was possible since the back seat was so  spacious. Had he moved closer to her when she wasn't looking?

James leaned towards her again, placing an arm behind her, on her  headrest for support. As he tilted his head towards her, Jennifer  smelled the familiar scent of his cologne, No. 1 by Clive Christian. It  was a wonderful aged smell of bergamot, cardamom, mandarin and Indian  sandalwood rumored to be an elixir of love itself, drawing soulmates to  together forever. Not to mention the musk made its wearer stalk and  perch as lazily and beautifully as a lion's mane upon its neck. Jennifer  completely missed what James said.

"Wha-what?" She stuttered, trying to draw her senses away from James's smell.

"I said that's a Citation Mustang, right there. Sits four to five and  has great captain-style seating. You're going to love it. Always comes  full stocked with refreshments," James grinned back at her, and then  paused. His eyes washed over her body. "Are you okay?"         

     



 

Jennifer pressed her lips together and nodded quietly. She couldn't  remember another time when James had been so close to her. She did not  know what was happening, to her, or between them, if anything at all. It  felt like her body was betraying her mind, getting giddy and warm  without her permission. Or maybe she had given it permission, just a  little bit when she had leaned in to sniff James a second time. She told  herself it wasn't him, but the perfume. Maybe that was just a lie.

"Okay, well, are you going to get out?" James sat back in his chair and  motioned to the door as it swung open, held by the driver. Jennifer  wasn't even aware the car had stopped. She looked down at her body and  realized she was very much still in a position which could read that she  had no intention of moving any time soon.

Clearing her throat, she forced a smile and then her left leg to move.  It flung out wildly, but connected with the pavement. She turned back to  reach for her bags, but James was right behind her. He stood, cocking a  smile down in her direction. His head obscured the sun from her eyes,  but she could still make out their amazing blue hue. They were bright  blue, true blue.

He was in her space again with a wonderful smile Jennifer would have  loved to taste. With ease, he held up a hand which held something of  hers, her purse.

"I've got your suitcase too," James said with a grin.

Jennifer could barely smile. He seemed to tower above her. She didn't  remember him being so tall. She wasn't a short chick, either.

"How tall are you?" She stammered, and then quickly bit her lip. She should have taken her purse and stayed quiet.

James raised an eyebrow at the question, but didn't seem fazed. "Just six feet. Maybe a little more."

More forcing. This time, it was a nod. She wanted to say something else,  but anything more was strictly prohibited. That's what she told  herself. She reached for her bag and smiled a ‘thank you' in response.  Turning towards the plane, Jennifer set off on the pavement, her heels  clicking with her.

After five steps, she turned and looked behind her. James was following  her but was lagging behind. He wasn't looking at the plane either but-Is  he checking me out?

James met her eyes suddenly and smiled at her sheepishly. Jennifer  averted his eyes as quickly as a fly escapes death. Her mind jumped  around thoughts sporadically. She chuckled and grinned at the thought of  James checking her out, but then she wanted to be angry that he was  checking her out. Her body wasn't there for his eye candy. But, maybe it  was? It could be? Is that even something she wanted? Andrew.

Jennifer stopped walking. James bumped into her a step later.

"My goodness, I'm sorry," he started quickly, reaching around Jennifer's  back as she stumbled forward. "You stopped so quickly. What's wrong?"  Meeting James's eyes, Jennifer chuckled nervously.

"I think there's something in my shoe," she crowed. James still  supported her with a palm. She felt his hand against the small of her  back and winced. He looked at her more closely.

"Are you okay?"

Jennifer feigned a limp forward. "My foot," she whined, and bent over to  set down her purse. James followed suit with the briefcase and stooped.  Jennifer's eyes widened with horror. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at your foot," he responded, glancing at Jennifer with a wild  expression. She felt him touch her ankles. His touch was fire. She  breathed deeply, and held her breath. "How do you women walk in these  things?" James asked. He tugged at her foot planted on the ground. The  move shouldn't have caused her to lose her balance, but she did.

"Whoa!" James was on his knees and pulled her into his arms. Either she  knocked him off balance or her weight was too much for him, but  together, they fell: James backwards and Jennifer forward over him.  James caught himself with his palms behind him, but Jennifer's tight  skirt didn't help her find a way to land gracefully. Her face crashed  into James's shoulder, and a knee into the ground. Her hands landed over  his as her momentum pushed him back.

With a grunt and a painful wince, Jennifer managed to turn her body on  James's lap. She stretched her legs out and looked at her knee. It  looked like a child's scratched shin. Blood beaded on the surface. Other  than that, she was fine.

James shifted as he pushed himself into a more stable position. He  didn't look for Jennifer's eyes and reached for her knee instead. His  touch made Jennifer bite her lip. His fingers held her knee just behind  the bend while his thumb ran beneath the scrape. He turned and looked at  her finally.         

     



 

If dust was around them and blowing tumbleweeds, one would have rustled  past along with a little settling of dust in the time that followed.  James stared into Jennifer's eyes and she returned the gaze. Both wore  blank expressions.

At length, James turned to her ankle and touched it with a warm, meaty  palm. Jennifer's breathing quickened, but she said nothing and let James  examine her foot. She felt him loosen the straps on her shoe. He slid  it away effortlessly.

"Looks like there's a little rock in here," James mused.

Jennifer frowned. "Really?" The only thing hurt was her pride. She  breathed happily; she was glad that he had found something she could  attribute to her awkward, clumsiness.

Grinning, James pushed his thumb into the bottom of her foot. He ran it  down to her toes and then back up to the heel of her foot. It felt  incredible.

"What are you doing?" Jennifer realized she was still in James's lap.  They had a crowd of witnesses now. She was even certain that she might  have even heard a bit of the loading crew laughing when she fell over  James, but her own heart was thumping too loudly for her to be sure.  Now, she looked behind James's head and realized it was true. They were  being watched.