Snow Job by Tara Wyatt (best large ereader .txt) 📗

got this, she was one step closer to having everything she’d ever wanted. One step closer to avoiding the disaster her mother’s life had become.

Please, please, please, please don’t let me screw this up.

The assistant retreated and she smiled brightly at the two men who’d stood when she entered the room. The older of the two introduced himself first.

“Miss Bristowe, hello. Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m Robert Stammler, the Chief Operating Officer, and this is Howie Riggs, our head of HR.” The other man nodded at her, looking bored. “We’re waiting for one other…” He trailed off as he checked his watch. “In any case, why don’t we get started? I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer.” He gestured at an empty chair at the head of the table.

She swallowed and nodded, sinking down into the chair, and then laid her folder on the table, opening it. “If I may, I’ve put together a package I’d like to share with you. It contains my resume and cover letter, as well as my transcripts and references. I’ve also taken the liberty of putting together a mock proposal for a marketing campaign, as well as samples of communications work I’ve done in the past—press releases, training documents, and a few others. May I?” She quirked an eyebrow and Mr. Stammler nodded, taking the packet she offered him. She passed the other to Mr. Riggs, who didn’t open it.

She forced herself to stay quiet while Mr. Stammler paged through the document. After a few moments, he nodded. “This is impressive. I see you even did a paid internship with Peugeot in Paris last year. Tell me about that.”

She smiled, settling back in her seat. “I spent three months living in Paris and working under one of the key account managers. I was responsible for putting together presentations for clients, working with factory managers and internal departments to ensure a smooth chain of production, creating profit and market share reports, and assisting in the creation of strategic plans for various initiatives.”

Mr. Stammler nodded, one eyebrow raised. “And you did all of that in French?”

Kayla allowed herself a small smile and a nod. “I did. I minored in French at Northwestern and wanted to test myself.”

“Impressive. Very impressive.” Just then, he looked up and smiled, his gaze landing a few feet above her head. “Ah. There he is. Miss Bristowe, this is Sebastian Prescott, our VP of marketing and project management. Should you end up working here, you would be working directly under Sebastian. Sebastian, this is Kayla Bristowe.”

Kayla stood and turned and everything inside her turned to Jell-O. Because standing just a few feet away from her was quite possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. He wasn’t wearing a suit like the other two men, but a deep purple button-down tucked into a pair of white slacks. On most other men, the outfit would’ve looked ridiculous, but on Sebastian, it just looked good. Really, really good. His hair was thick and a rich dark brown, a bit longer on top and shorter on the sides. Striking blue eyes framed with lashes worthy of a Maybelline ad held hers, making goosebumps erupt on her bare arms. His lips were full and his jaw strong, covered with a closely cropped, neatly groomed beard. And then there was the rest of him. An inch or two over six feet, he had broad shoulders and a flat stomach. She was pretty sure she could see the hint of a muscled pec beneath his shirt. He oozed athleticism and strength. Ease and confidence. Straight, white teeth flashed when he smiled at her and held out his hand.

God, even his hand was masculine perfection. Wide and strong with long, capable fingers. She had to bite back a sigh when he enveloped her hand in his. The warmth of his skin seemed to radiate through her, and for a moment, his eyes held hers. A bolt of lust shocking in its intensity zinged through her. Heat flushed her skin as he leaned in a little closer. Oh, fuck, he smelled good, like mint and expensive aftershave. She wanted to rub herself on him like a cat.

“Kayla, hi,” he said, his voice a pleasant baritone. “I’m so sorry. I was stuck on a call. Please, let’s continue.” She didn’t realize that she was still holding his hand until he took it back.

“It’s no problem,” she managed to say, shaking her head slightly as she sat back down in her chair. Sebastian walked down the length of the table to an empty seat, giving her a view of his muscled ass in those white pants.

Oh. Holy. Hell.

Visions of the two of them, alone in the conference room, making very good use of the glass table swam before her eyes, but she forced herself to blink them away.

No. She was here to do a job. Attractive or not, Sebastian would be her boss, and nothing more. And more than anything, she really wanted this job. Needed it to keep working toward her plan. Because if she followed the plan, things would turn out better for her than they did for her mom. And then any kids Kayla had wouldn’t know what it was like to go to bed still hungry because supper had been half a can of ravioli and a piece of toast. They wouldn’t know what it was like to wonder where their mother was, what man she’d be bringing home this time, what misery it would eventually lead to. They wouldn’t know what it was like to wear shoes a size too small for so long that their pinky toes were slightly bent.

“Kayla was just telling us about her internship with Peugeot in France,” said Mr. Stammler, and Sebastian’s eyes met hers again. Butterflies exploded in her stomach, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. And then, in a seemingly unconscious gesture, he started rolling up the sleeves of his button