Free Three Nights in Greece by Ciar Cullen Page B

lack of response, she shrugged and began preparing her coffee.
    “Let me do that.” To her astonishment, his voice actually sang in an Irish lilt. He took the sugar packets from her hand and ripped off the tops, pouring them in and stirring. He threw in a dash of cinnamon without asking if she wanted it. Weirdo .
    “Well, thanks, very kind. Gotta go.” Layla started toward the door and stopped cold. She could feel his stare, the sensation prickling her back between the shoulder blades. She walked back to him, pulled a pen from her portfolio, and wrote her number on a napkin. How could you be so stupid ? A stranger, and in New York. It’s a wonder I survived two months despite my training. Maybe he slipped something into my coffee. Nah, I would have noticed . She held out the napkin.
    He warded it off with a raised hand and a shake of the head. “No need. I already have your number.” He grinned slightly before turning to the counter. Layla watched as he placed his order, ignoring her completely as he did so.
    Okay, so he’s gorgeous and odd, and either attached or gay, probably an actor or model. A shame .
    Layla sighed in regret. “Have a nice life,” she cheerfully called over her shoulder, meaning it, as she left the coffee shop. After checking her watch again, she ran the remaining three blocks to the office. “Go time, Layla!”
     
    ***
     
    “Mr. Colin should be here shortly.” The secretary smiled and idly tapped his pen on a pad. This one is definitely a struggling actor, Layla thought. He was young, maybe twenty-two, handsome in an all- American kind of way, with a bright practiced smile. He ran his hand through his short blonde hair and Layla imagined he was constantly aware of how he appeared to others.
    She smiled back and took a seat, hugging her portfolio to her chest. “Have you worked for Mr. Colin long, Mr.…?”
    “Spencer. Tristan Spencer. This is my third month. Made it past the probationary period.” He looked a trifle embarrassed. “Not that there was really any question.”
    “Oh, of course not. But I’m sure it’s a challenging job. I mean, talking to important clients, making travel arrangements, ensuring things go smoothly…”
    Poor kid, she thought. He doesn’t do a thing all day except watch Colin come and goes. Sarah does the real work. The kid’s window dressing and he doesn’t even know it.
    Tristan nodded uncertainly. “Yes, it can get busy.” He rearranged the few items on his desk, folding a newspaper and shoving it into a drawer. “Kevin—he has me call him Kevin—depends a good deal on me to keep things rolling.”
    “I imagine you have to do personal errands, too? Most assistants get pulled into around chauffeuring the kids, picking up gifts for the wives…”
    “Oh, well, there’s only Molly, and she’s in daycare. Kevin takes her before work.” He looked at the clock. “That’s why he comes in a little late.”
    Layla made a mental note. Molly—daycare. Single dad? Probably overworked, maybe a workaholic.
    Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
    “Oh, here he is, right on time.” Spencer smiled as Kevin Colin opened the door, briefcase and latte in hand.
    Layla felt color flush her face, and the veins in her head began screaming. “Oh, fuck me.”
    He smiled. Yep, those eyes actually twinkled. “Told you I had your number.”
    “Oh, excuse my language. It’s just…you know. Well, of course you know. You’re the one who knew the whole time. The least you could have done was pay for my coffee, seeing as you’re my boss.”
    “At least I fixed it for you. You must be the one person in my employ who hasn’t bothered to look me up on the net.”
    “Never seemed to matter what you looked like. Until now.” Layla shook her head in dismay, but she felt a bit more relaxed at Colin’s obvious good nature.
    He laughed and motioned for her to join him in his office. “Nothing for two hours, Tristan.”
    “Well, you don’t need another grande, Ms .