But it wasn’t his clothes that held her attention. It was the way he wore them and the way he moved, so lithe and fluid, his body lean and obviously muscled in all the right places.
Golden could feel the warmth of a blush rising in her cheeks. Dear Lord, she’d been staring at the man. At his bum, no less. She’d never in her whole life done anything like that. What was happening to her?
At that moment Reed Davidoff – who’d reached down to pull something from the bottom drawer of his desk – glanced up and she could see from the look in his eyes that he’d noticed her blush. Fiddlesticks.
To her relief he released her gaze and lifted an all-white box and rested it on the table. Then slowly, almost like a magician bent on tantalizing his audience before an amazing revelation, he lifted the lid from the box.
Golden held her breath. What in the world could he have that was so special?
And then, deliberately, he reached in and lifted out his prize. In his hands was the gold slipper she’d run off and left behind on the runway. A single left foot.
“Recognize this?” he asked, his smile gone and his face suddenly serious.
“Yes, Mr. Davidoff,” she said, shifting her bag on her lap. “The slipper I...lost on the runway.” Not knowing where he was going with this she dropped her gaze to her hands. “I’m very sorry about what happened. The slippers...they were too big and...I was supposed to be a dresser at the show, not a model.” The last part came out in a rush. Good Lord, this was so embarrassing. She could feel the heat rising in her face and she knew she would be raspberry-red by now. Burning with shame she stole a glance at the man who held the slipper, the flaming piece of evidence that would convict her.
Reed Davidoff was shaking his head but his smile was back. In fact, it was more like a grin. Thank heavens.
“You may call me Reed,” he said, “and may I call you Golden?”
“Of course.” Quickly she nodded. If he’d asked to call her bunny rabbit she would have said yes, she was so relieved.
“There’s no need to feel bad, Golden. What the heck were they thinking when they gave you those slippers? Look at how tiny you are.” And then he was staring at her again, making her want to squirm. “So what do you do, Golden,” he asked, “when you’re not testing your modeling skills on the runway?”
“I...I...nothing.” The question had caught her off guard, making her stutter, and if she hadn’t looked stupid before she certainly did now.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Nothing?”
“I’m unemployed,” she said quickly, “but I’m job hunting. The temp position at your show was my first break.”
“I see,” he said, looking thoughtful. Then he frowned. “You’re not British, are you?”
She smiled. He’d noticed. “I moved to London when I was fourteen but I’m American. From Atlanta, Georgia.”
“I thought I heard the charming lilt of a Southern accent.”
That made Golden chuckle. “My friends at boarding school used to tease me endlessly about it. Even after six years here in England it’s so easy to pick up that I was transplanted.” Then she tilted her head, her curiosity getting the better of her. He might think her forward to ask but she had a question of her own. “But what about you? You’re obviously not English.”
Reed nodded. “That’s one thing we have in common. I’m from New York but I’ve been living in London for the past three years and loving every minute of it. I love its old world charm.” Then he shook his head. “But enough about me. Let’s get back to you and your job situation.” Then he chuckled. “Or maybe I should say your jobless situation.”
Golden responded with a cool smile. She didn’t see how he could find her state of unemployment to be funny. She was too polite to say anything, though. She would let her host have his laugh at her expense.
But then his next words made the smile freeze on her face.
“So what do you think about coming to work for me?”
Golden’s eyes widened and she sucked in her breath. “Sorry?” Her voice a breathless rush, she stared at the man who sat there regarding her with a satisfied smile. Had she heard him right? Had he just offered her a job?”
“I just offered you a job,” he said as if he’d read the very words that flashed across her mind. “So is it a yes or a no?”
“But...are you serious?” Her brow knitted in a frown. “You don’t even know me. And...I have no idea what this job would be. How can I say yes?”
He shrugged. “I know you’re a size four in clothing, five in shoes.” Then his eyes grew intense. “Besides, I know enough about you to know that you have integrity. You’re honest and caring and you’d give your right arm to save someone else’s skin, especially someone you love.”
“After meeting me face to face just this one time you know all that?”
He chuckled. “It’s all in the eyes, Golden, all in the eyes.” Then he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “As you can see, my personal assistant won’t be around much longer.”
Slowly, Golden nodded. She’d noticed it immediately. Sharon Crow was in the late stages of pregnancy. Although her billowy top covered her well she still looked like she was ready to pop. It was a mystery to Golden how she still seemed so bright and full of energy. Weren’t pregnant women supposed to be lethargic?
“I need someone to fill in while she’s out on maternity leave,” he said. “I think you’d be the perfect candidate.”
“But don’t you have her replacement already? She looks so close...” She paused. What if he thought her presumptuous for asking? He probably wasn’t used to anyone questioning him, what with him being the owner of the corporation. She glanced at him but he’d shifted his attention to the slipper which he was now placing back into its container.
He dropped the box back in the bottom drawer, slammed it shut then looked up. “I was supposed to get someone from another department but I’ll cancel that,” he said. “So,” he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, left ankle atop his right knee, “can you start tomorrow?”