The Bishop Affair Page 4

  “I have to pick up a box of letterhead for some memos that need to go out early this afternoon,” she said, sounding more than a little stressed about the whole thing. “You should probably take your lunch now. Do you remember where the cafeteria is?”

  “Of course.” I tried to hide my shyness at eating alone. “I’ll be fine.” She bustled off and I stood up. The cafeteria was located just a few floors down from the office. I could be in and out in less than ten minutes, I told myself. Maybe I’d just take something back up to my desk.

  However, once in the cafeteria, I couldn’t resist the chicken tortilla soup they offered. It was perfect for the chill that was just appearing in the air. I resigned myself to enduring a few minutes alone in the crowd of people all taking their lunch breaks, too. Not recognizing a single face, I carefully carried my tray to an empty table and sat down. As I sipped spoonfuls of the soup, my thoughts turned inevitably to Jordan. I found myself looking forward to working with him. His friendliness helped dispel how intimidating his size was. A strange vision of him bench pressing me while we were both naked flitted through my mind and I blushed.

  “Am I interrupting anything?” I gave a small gasp of surprise and looked up. A wavy brunette with a prominent nose grinned as she held a tray. “You looked deep in thought,” she explained, “but I hate to see anyone eating alone. Can I sit down?”

  “Of course, I’d love that.” Shoving my tray aside to make room, I welcomed the company. “I’m Lori.”

  “Alice.” She held out a hand. I shook it and returned to my soup. “Have you been working here long? I didn’t recognize you and thought you must be new.”

  “Isn’t the company really big though?” I wondered aloud, a little bit troubled that I still hadn’t seen the mystery swimmer. “It’s just my second day.”

  She laughed. “Oh, it’s small enough for me to know all the gossip. You just get so used to seeing everyone that new meat stirs everyone’s blood. I’m in accounting, but I pretty much know everyone by face.”

  “Accounting? I could never wrap my head around math,” I admitted. “I’m just a PA.”

  Her eyes flashed with interest. “Ooh, a PA for which manager?”

  “Managers, actually. The Bishops.”

  “Oh. My. God.” The fork heading for her mouth with lettuce on the end never made it there. “Are you kidding? You’ve got to be joking.”

  “No really, it’s true.”

  “God, I’m so jealous. Every woman in this building is jealous and—” She cupped one side of her mouth with her hand. “—probably some men as well.”

  I laughed. “There’s nothing to be jealous about. I’ll probably just be fetching coffee or making copies. Not very exciting.”

  “You silly thing, have you seen the Bishops?” She got a faraway look. “Beyond gorgeous. Gods among men.”

  “I’ve only met Jordan.” I began replaying our encounter over again in my head.

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  She snorted impatiently. “And what did you think?”

  “He’s pretty good looking,” I confessed, blushing and feeling inappropriate.

  “Understatement of the century.” She laughed. “Most people’s biggest problem is deciding which brother they’d rather have.” The conversation made me more than a little uncomfortable, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. I could’ve changed the subject, but I got the feeling it would be like trying to stop a running hose. Suddenly, she bit her lip and surveyed the cafeteria before leaning conspiratorially close. I knew whatever she was about to say would be juicy, so I started eating slower. “You might want to be careful with the Bishops,” she said softly.

  I blinked, surprised. “What do you mean, careful?” I wasn’t expecting that. Setting down my spoon, I gave her my full attention.

  “The way those two go through women, for one,” she nearly whispered. “You’re going to see a lot of it. They must go through a woman or two a week.” I took that with a grain of salt. Alice was basically a self-confessed gossip. But hadn’t Susan said something about beating women off them with a stick? “And, of course, there’s the tiny mystery on how they got this company to begin with.”

  I wrinkled my brow. “I heard they earned it. That they’re savvy, hard workers.”

  She shrugged. “That’s one story. Here’s another: They killed for it.” I managed to turn a burst of laughter into a cough. This was getting more than a little ridiculous and I was sure my face reflected my skepticism. Even though I had only met one of them, I somehow felt fiercely loyal to the Bishops. “It’s true!” she cried. “Well, I heard it was true. It’s a mystery how they managed to get to where they are now when they’re so young! How else would they make their billions?”

  A combination of hard work, smarts, and luck? Isn’t that how all billionaires do it? I couldn’t help but question Alice’s source of information. If they killed someone, they’d be sitting behind bars, not busy closing deals and making new personal assistants hot and bothered on their second day of work. I forced my attention back to my quickly cooling soup. She started to say something, but it caught in her throat. I looked up to see if she was choking, but she was pale with her lips pressed in a line.

  “Gotta go,” she said quickly, standing up. Without a second glance, she rushed away. I shook my head until I realized most of the cafeteria was staring at me. A blush immediately blossomed across my cheeks, and I looked around for an escape route. Alice had been pretty loud. Was that why they were staring? I scooted around in my chair and jumped. My coworkers weren’t staring at me. They were staring at Jordan, who was standing just behind my seat.

  “Lori.”

  I stood up so I wouldn’t have to crane my neck so hard. There were no traces of Jordan’s earlier warmth. He was all business right now.

  “See me in my office after you finish your lunch.” Before I could say anything, he turned and left.

  Shit. I fell limply back into my seat and stared at my half-eaten soup. Anxiety erased my appetite, and I wondered if he had heard what Alice was talking about. I was more than certain that personal assistants shouldn’t go gossiping behind their bosses’ backs. I had screwed up royally. Throwing my soup away in a nearby trash, I made my way to the elevator. Whatever he wanted, I was going to face it now. No use in dragging out my torture. I held my breath as the elevator doors shut.

  Chapter 2

  On the way to Jordan’s office, dread creeping up my throat, I grabbed a blank notepad and pen from my desk in the off chance he didn’t fire or murder me. I grabbed the edge of the desk in an effort to get a hold of myself—I didn’t really believe Alice, did I? I took a deep breath and stepped briskly to Jordan’s office. I had to force my fist to knock on the closed door.

  “Come in!” I held my breath and pushed the door open. Jordan looked up from a dossier and beckoned for me to come forward. “Close the door and have a seat,” he said, snapping the file shut. I sank down into a soft leather chair, feeling a modicum of relief. If he was going to fire me, wouldn’t he have just thrown me out? Hope wove through my trepidation. “Do you have any idea why I asked you to come in here?” He stared at me intently.

  I gulped and decided to go with the truth. “Is it because you saw me sitting with the office gossip at lunch?”

  He cocked his head quizzically and chuckled. “Alice in accounting? Harmless.” He waved his hand. “Anything juicy?”

  Relief flooded through my body, relaxing the tension in my shoulders and making my joints feel hot and loose. “Nothing worth repeating. I’m not really the gossiping type.”

  “That’s good to know,” he said, his mirth trailing away from his face. “In fact, that’s excellent to know. The reason you’re here is because I wanted to ask you some questions about your qualifications for this position.”

  Was there something wrong? I frantically thought over my resume and what I’d said during the phone interview. Nothing was a lie; I had been open
and honest.

  “I’d be happy to help you with anything you need to know.” I pulled on the mantel of professionalism. This was where I thrived.

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, his eyes never leaving my face. “As you know, you’re currently employed with the understanding that this is a trial position.” I nodded. The fact that my job might not even work out weighed on me when I applied, but the chance to make a fresh start pushed me to go for it. “You had positive evaluations from the company recruiter and Susan, whom I trust as an excellent judge of character. She tells me you’ve been working hard since you arrived and you follow directions well...”

  All good things so far, I waited anxiously for him to get to the bad part.

  “...But what I need to know is if you’re the right fit for my brother and me. If you can prove to me that you’re what we need in a personal assistant, I’ll approve your job as full-time.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant exactly, but being approved to be a full-time PA for the brothers would virtually assure that I’d stay in New York City.

  “I would do anything to prove myself to you,” I replied. “What exactly are you looking for in a PA?” I flipped open my notebook, ready to jot down the specifics.

  “I need someone I can trust. You must be both available and discreet.” His eyes smoldered—I wouldn’t have been able to break eye contact even if I wanted to. The way he was gazing at me aroused me in a strange, almost hypnotic way.

  “Tell me,” he began, pressing his fingers together, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Pinpricks peppered the back of my neck. Why was my boss asking me this? But for the first time, I thought about Eric without a pang of regret. Maybe my roommate was right—I just needed to put myself out there to move on with my life without him. Was Jordan the reason?

  “I don’t,” I replied ignoring the personalness of the question. “I used to, but not anymore.”

  “That’s for the best, I think. Most men wouldn’t understand why you’d be devoting so much time to us.” His gaze held me transfixed. “What’s your life like away from work? Do you have any outside obligations that would prevent you from working long and hard hours?”

  Despite myself, my mind lingered on “long and hard.” I could only imagine what he was packing, but if the rest of him was any indication, his would be impressive. Fingers of desire fluttered down my front and I could feel a hot flush spreading across my chest. “I would be able to do anything,” I said automatically, as if in a trance. “Anything.”

  He stood up from behind his desk and started pacing. It was a blessing—his eyes had a way of extracting everything from me.

  “How flexible is your work style?” He walked around behind me. “Are you able to adjust to any demand I’ll make of you?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I resisted turning around. I felt that he was very close. Was I imagining it, or was that his breath on my ear? I licked my lips, entertaining the idea that he would kiss me right here and now. How would I respond? How could I do anything but kiss him back?

  “I’m extremely flexible,” I said softly, breathing a little faster. “I’m at your complete disposal. Anything you want. Anything you need. I’ll make it happen.” He continued to saunter slowly around the room, but I had the impression of a circling shark, homing in on prey. With each step, I could see his muscles ripple beneath his shirt.

  “Anything implies a lot.” An edge of warning was in his voice. “Anything implies everything.”

  “I mean it. All you have to do is ask.”

  He rested his strong hands on my shoulders. His touch sent the same electrical jolt through my body as it did earlier this morning. I wondered if he could feel my racing pulse through my skin and hoped he couldn’t tell how turned on I was.

  “Excellent.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s all I wanted to know. You may leave now.” As if waking up from a long dream, I stood to go, utter gibberish scrawled across my notepad. “Oh, and Lori,” he called, making me turn just before reaching the door. “Watch out for my brother.” He reopened the dossier and took out a few papers as if he had only said “goodbye.”

  “Watch out for your brother?” I repeated slowly. “What do you mean?” The glow I had felt throughout the meeting was being swiftly replaced by shock.

  Seated back at his desk, Jordan frowned. The expression scared me a little—it looked like thunderclouds brewing across his forehead. “Just watch out for him. He’s a little…different.”

  Bewildered, I pushed open the door and left. It couldn’t have just been my fantasy. Our interview had been so rife with innuendo that I had to consider the possibility that my boss was hitting on me. Not that I’d complain, I mused to myself. I found myself genuinely looking forward to all possible contact with Jordan. I was desperate to impress him and vowed to do everything in my power to do so. But what did he mean to watch out for the other Bishop? I could only imagine.

  I turned my thoughts away from Jordan’s cryptic warning about his brother and flipped open the notepad to see if I could decipher anything I wrote during the meeting. “Trust” was the only clearly legible word. After that, “available” and “discreet” were the only things I could make out. It almost read like an advertisement for a call girl. You could ask prostitutes to be “available” and “discreet.” I rounded the corner to go back to my desk, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth as I eyed the scribbling on the notepad, when I bumped into someone. I looked up just in time to see the mystery swimmer scowl as steaming coffee splashed onto his pristine shirt. The collision made me drop my notepad and pen.

  “I’m so sorry!” I blurted out, falling to my knees to retrieve my things and to avoid looking at the man I’d been looking for all day. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. I really apologize.” I grabbed my pen as it continued to roll back and forth across the floor and stopped. The swimmer hadn’t said a word. Slowly, I looked up and shivered. He was standing so still. An ugly splatter of coffee speckled his white shirt. Not knowing what else to do, I apologized again.

  “I’m really, really sorry.” I wished he’d say something. I remembered the promise I’d made to myself on the bus yesterday evening and, despite the situation, mustered a smile. “My name’s Lori. I’m personal assistant to the Bishops.”

  The swimmer’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a fact.” I wasn’t sure what to say or do. He tore his eyes away from me and looked behind me in the direction of Jordan’s office. Something seemed to click into place for him and he smiled.

  “Of course, Lori,” he said. “I’m Trevor Bishop.”

  He held out his hand and I stared at it like I’d never seen it before. I felt like fainting. It now seemed painfully clear that this amazingly gorgeous man was Jordan’s brother. Why hadn’t I made the connection when I saw them both at the gym? Why hadn’t it dawned on me when I met Jordan, or when I had stumbled into Trevor yesterday before leaving? I shook his hand weakly and made no move to get up and he made no effort to pull me from my feet. I let go of the shake, feeling defeated. Jordan’s warning to watch out for Trevor reverberated within me. Was I about to find out why?

  “Seems like I keep running into you while you’re on your knees,” he said finally, a flicker of amusement darting quickly across his face.

  A blush exploded across my face and I found it hard to breath. I became hyperaware of just how close my face was to his crotch in this position, but found myself frozen, completely unable to move.

  “What an impression I must be making on you,” I managed to say.

  Just when I thought everything was going so well with Jordan and the job, I was wrecking it with Trevor. In spite of my despair, and in spite of everything, the desire between my legs since leaving Jordan’s office hadn’t waned in the slightest. The subject of my recent fantasies was standing right in front of me. I couldn’t help but recall Alice’s statement at lunch—that most people couldn’t decide which bro
ther they’d rather have. I hadn’t understood what she meant at the time, but now I grasped the concept perfectly.

  Gathering my courage, I stood up, clutching the notebook and pen to still the shaking in my hands. I was surprised to notice a flash of dark lust in his eyes, the color so different from Jordan’s but the intensity was the same—no, it was even greater. I could only guess what feelings my own face was betraying. I was never good at hiding anything, and the last thing I needed was for one of my bosses to realize how attracted I was to him. Once I stood up, Trevor seemed to come to some sort of decision.

  “Follow me to my office,” he commanded.

  My legs moved of their own accord as I tried to swallow my desire and anxiety. I followed a few feet behind him and as he led us to the door to his office.

  The office was decorated with Eastern art and artifacts. Richly colored paintings that I was certain weren’t reprints adorned the walls. A stone statue of two bodies entwined was featured prominently on Trevor’s desk. A massive and intricately dyed rug covering the wooden floor tied everything together.