One year ago…
I walk straight into the lobby of Wilson Pharma, clutching the box containing Dad's favorite turkey club sandwich.
"Good afternoon, Miss Wilson," the receptionist chirps with practiced cheerfulness.
I offer a distracted smile. "Hi Donna. Is my father in his office?"
"He is. Shall I let him know you're here?"
"No need," I say, already moving towards the elevators. "I'll surprise him."
Donna nods and looks down at her papers. She knows better than to argue. I have the free reign of Dad's company. I am, after all, expected to take it over once my father passes.
But as soon as I reach Dad's office, I freeze in the doorway, my breath catching in my throat.
A man is standing by the window, his tall frame silhouetted against the city skyline. Even from behind, the breadth of his shoulders and the confident set of his stance make my pulse quicken.
Who is this man? I've never seen him before.
As if sensing my presence, he turns. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the world blurs.
God, he is gorgeous. Devastatingly so.
Those dark, brooding eyes that seem to pierce right through me. The sharp angle of his jaw, softened by just a hint of stubble. His full lips, currently pressed into a hard line that speaks of barely restrained intensity.
I want to run my fingers through his thick, dark hair. To trace the strong lines of his face. To feel the heat of his skin beneath my palms.
My father's voice snaps me back to reality. "Sarah! What a lovely surprise."
I tear my gaze away from the man, plastering on a bright smile. "Hi, Dad. I brought you lunch."
As I move closer to my father's desk, I'm hyper-aware of the man's presence. I try to act casual, hoping he can't hear my heart thundering against my chest.
"That's very thoughtful of you, sweetheart," Dad says, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil. "This here is Matthew Jameson. He just started as the head of the finance department."
I turn back to Matthew, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Oh. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Jameson."
His eyes narrow slightly as he regards me. When he speaks, his deep voice makes my stomach tremble. "Nice to meet you too, Miss Wilson."
I hate the formality. I want to hear my first name come out of those beautiful lips, but I can hardly say that in front of my Dad!
Matthew clears his throat. "If you'll excuse me, I will head back to my office now."
With a nod to my father, Matthew strides past me. The scent of his cologne lingers, spicy and masculine. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to reach out and stop him.
As the door closes behind him, I release a shaky breath. My skin tingles when he brushes past me.
I want him.
God help me, I want him more than I've ever wanted anything.
I force a smile for Dad's benefit, but my mind is racing. That moment when our eyes met… there was something there. A spark, a connection. I'm sure of it.
"Sarah? Are you alright?" Dad's voice breaks through my jumbling thoughts.
"Oh, yes. Sorry, just a bit distracted." I laugh, aiming for nonchalance. "Actually, I was wondering if Mr. Jameson might be able to show me what he does here? I'd love to learn more about the…um…financial aspects of the company."
Please, god…don't let my father realize I am hot for his employee.
Dad beams, pride evident in his voice. "That's my girl, always taking an interest. I'm sure Matthew wouldn't mind. Let me call him and tell him you are on your way to his office."
As Dad reaches for the phone, my heart races.
And then, a few minutes later, I find myself standing inside Matthew's stuffy office.
I close the door behind me and walk in confidently. Matthew stands behind his desk, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. Those dark eyes bore into mine, and I feel stripped bare under his intense scrutiny.
What will be the expression in his eyes if I was standing in front of him, completely naked?
"Miss Wilson," he says, his voice low and controlled. "Your father said you wanted to learn about the financial aspects of the company."
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "Yes, that's right."
He gestures to the chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat."
I sit down on the chair and smile at him. His cold demeanor doesn't bother me. I can break through that tough exterior, I am sure of it.
Matthew sits down, not smiling back. "So, what exactly do you want to know?" he asks.
I lick my lips, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. "Well, I… I'm curious about your role here. What does being the head of finance mean?"
A flicker of amusement crosses his face, gone as quickly as it appeared. "It involves managing the company's financial health. Budgeting, forecasting, risk assessment. Ensuring that the numbers align with the overall strategy."
I have no idea what the hell he is talking about. I'm too focused on the way his lips move, the deep tone of his voice, the subtle flex of his forearms as he gestures.
"I see," I murmur. "And what made you be so interested in…um…all of that?"
He pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I have a talent for it. For seeing patterns, predicting outcomes. For making tough decisions when necessary. I wanted a job I will be good at. This is a great company so why not?"
"I bet you're very good at getting what you want," I say, trying to sound as smooth as I can be.
His jaw clenches, his eyes darkening. "I am. You don't seem like the kind of person who would be interested in finance. Is there a reason for your interest in learning from me?"
I shrug. "I am expected to take over this company, so I thought I should start here."
Way to go, Sarah! I praise myself in my head for coming up with this great excuse to be close to this man.
"I see," he says quietly. "Well, I am kind of slammed at the moment. As a new employee, I am still working on organizing everything so I am afraid today is not a good day for me to teach you."
"Tomorrow then!" I exclaim and stand up.
Matthew furrows his brows. "Well, actually…"
"I will be here tomorrow," I say quickly and run out of his office before he has the chance to say no.
~-~
The next day, I find myself back at Dad's office. But before I can reach his office, I spot Matthew.
He's leaning against a desk, talking to a blonde woman. She's gorgeous, all legs and perfect teeth. One of those sexy professional types. Jealousy flares hot in my chest as I watch her touch his arm, laughing at something he's said.
I clench my fists, willing Matthew to look my way.
He doesn't.
"Focus on me," I whisper, as if I could command his attention through sheer force of will. "I'm right here."
The blonde says something, and Matthew's face softens. He almost smiles. It's an expression I've never seen on him, and it tears at me. That smile should be mine.
I turn away, unable to watch anymore. I walk out of the building and frantically make a call.
"Becca? I need you. Now."
An hour later, I'm curled up on my best friend Rebecca's couch, spilling everything.
"He barely looked at me, Bec. And then today, with that… that woman. You should have seen how she was fawning all over him."
Rebecca's eyes widen. "Wow, Sarah. You've got it bad, huh? You only met him once, Sarah."
I nod miserably. "I know that! But I can't stop thinking about him. It's like… like he's gotten under my skin."
"Well, honey, you know what they say. The best ones are always a challenge." Rebecca grins, nudging me. "So, what's the plan?"
"Plan?" I blink at her.
"Oh, come on. You're Sarah Wilson." She leans in, eyes sparkling. "You are going to make Matthew Jameson fall head over heels for you, aren't you?"
A slow smile spreads across my face. Rebecca's right. I'm not giving up that easily.
"Yes," I say, sitting up straighter.
I lean back into the plush cushions of Rebecca's designer couch, running my fingers along the soft fabric. It's the same brand my mother insisted on having in our summer home in the Hamptons. The familiarity of luxury soothes me, reminding me of my place in the world.
I am Sarah Wilson, and I always get what I want.
"Where do we start?" I muse, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against my chin.
"We?" Rebecca raises an eyebrow.
"Yes, we. You will help me get the man of my dreams. Daddy's always said that Wilsons don't wait for opportunities, we create them."
Rebecca nods enthusiastically. "Right! And you've never had trouble getting what you want before. Remember that internship at Vogue? You made it happen."
I smile, recalling how I'd convinced Daddy to make a few calls. It had been so easy. "You're right, Bec. Matthew's just another goal to achieve. And I always achieve my goals."
"That's my girl," Rebecca beams, reaching for her tablet. "Let's brainstorm. What do we know about Matthew?"
I close my eyes, picturing his strong jawline, those piercing eyes. "He is hot."
Rebecca rolls her eyes. "What else?"
"Nothing," I say, sighing.
"Seriously?" Rebecca gives me a disbelief look. "And you think he is your perfect man?"
"I have a feeling," I say, shrugging again.
Rebecca shakes her head. "Alright. A heart wants what a hear wants I guess. Oh, I know! What if we arrange some sort of business event? Something where you can showcase your connections, impress him with your influence?"
A plan begins to form in my mind. "Daddy's charity gala is coming up. Matthew will be there, I am sure. It's the perfect opportunity to show him what I bring to the table."
Rebecca's eyes light up. "Oh, that's brilliant! We'll get you the most stunning dress, make sure you're the belle of the ball. He won't be able to take his eyes off you."
I nod, feeling a surge of confidence. "And once I have his attention, I'll make sure he sees how great I am. I'm exactly what an ambitious man like Matthew needs."
"He'd be a fool not to see it," Rebecca agrees, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "And if he doesn't, well… there are ways to make him see."
I meet her gaze, seeing the fierce loyalty there. "You always have my back, don't you, Bec?"
"Always," she says firmly.
A familiar warmth spreads through me. This is how it should be. The world bending to my will, everything falling into place.
Matthew Jameson doesn't stand a chance.