He grins as he walks back to the workstation.
“And don’t you have a shift that starts soon?” I ask Charity, moving my eyes to the clock and back to her.
“Is it that time already?” She pouts as she grabs her bag. “This isn’t the end of this conversation. Shawn, see what you can find out from this one. Remember, she says nothing, but those cheeks of hers reveal everything. If anything with this attorney turns romantic, I want to be the first to know.” She blows air kisses to the two of us as she closes the door behind her, shouting, “Happy chocolatiering!”
I’m filling the pot with cream as Shawn changes the music to play jazz. Not only does it relax me, but it’s also the only music I’ll cook to. The fact that it’s the best way to get my mind steady before I meet with Mr. Blake tomorrow is a plus as well.
Chapter Four
As I enter the high-rise where the law offices of Blake, Fields, and Moore are located, I get this overwhelming sensation of wealth and power. In a city that is mostly historic buildings, the tiered skyscraper that’s distinctly hued in red granite stands out like a modern marvel.
I step inside and immediately look up and around. Large glass windows let the rays of the setting sun into the lobby of sandstone porcelain and gold accents. There’s a glass elevator that overlooks the vast lobby.
I’m staring in awe of the mosaic design on the far wall when a woman behind the front desk asks, “Who are you delivering to?”
Walking up to the desk, I smile. “I’m here to see Sebastian Blake.”
“You can leave the food here.” She nods to the bag of Chinese food in my hand that I picked up on the spur of the moment.
I glance down at my clothes. I wore jeans with a silk top and blazer. The outfit is moderately casual, but I didn’t think I looked like a messenger. Between the impressiveness of the building and this woman’s assumption, I’m feeling way out of my league.
“I have an appointment with him. I’m Amy Morgana.”
Her eyes widen as she flips her hands up to the keyboard and starts typing. Then, she picks up the phone. “My apologies, Ms. Morgana. I saw the bag and thought you were the delivery driver. One moment. I’ll ring Miles.”
“I’m here to see Sebastian,” I correct.
“Miles is his assistant,” she answers before speaking into the phone after someone appears to have picked up the other end. As she hangs up, she says, “He’ll be right down.”
I smile to myself at how different Sebastian’s office and mine are. Where he has a rotunda, I have a back alley and a sweaty gym. There are security guards here while I have a Ring doorbell. Sebastian’s assistant comes down to escort guests. I’m lucky if Shawn, who is the closest thing I have to an assistant, answers the back door when Charity knocks.
“You must be Amy.” A gentleman, who I assume is Miles, walks up to me. He has on khakis, a white button-down, and black-framed glasses. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll bring you up to Mr. Blake.”
I adjust the tote bag on my shoulder and grip the plastic takeout handles with both hands in front of me as I follow him to the glass elevator.
We step in, and he hits the third floor before standing to the side and waiting patiently. I fidget with the bag, hating the awkwardness of being enclosed with a stranger in an elevator.
“You’re Sebastian’s assistant,” I muse.
He nods in a professional manner. “I’ve worked for Mr. Blake for five years.”
Glancing at my watch, I take in the time. “You must put in some late hours.”
“When there’s a big case, Mr. Blake has been known to pull all-nighters. The man is incredibly dedicated, and I’ve learned so much from him. He’s one of the best attorneys in Philadelphia,” Miles boasts with a raised chin.
I smash my lips together and giggle. “It’s okay, dude. I’m not a personal friend or anything. I’m not even a paying client. You don’t have to show off for your boss for me.”
Miles swivels his head toward me and stares like I have three eyes. “No, I’m serious. The man is the nicest and most generous guy I’ve ever met.”
My brows furrow. Not because I’m disappointed in that news. I’m actually surprised. Everyone has something negative to say about their boss. Not that I necessarily expected this man to word-vomit about his boss to me, but he didn’t have to go above and beyond to say nice things. His response was natural.
The glass walls of the elevator take us up, and the doors open to a waiting room with the law firm’s name emblazoned on the wall. All of the awards the firm has won line the back wall like they’re gold albums sitting in a record label’s office.
“Give me a second. I’ll let him know you’re here.” Miles picks up a phone at the front desk while I take the opportunity to look at the photos on an adjacent wall.
Sebastian is in many of them, all with various charities around the city. Each photo is labeled with the organization’s name and the amount the firm has donated to them.
Miles hangs up the phone and comes around the desk. “He said I can bring you back.”
I follow him down a long walkway that overlooks the main lobby of the building. It’s funny how it feels so different from this angle. Downstairs, this space felt out of reach, like only the elite belonged up here. And now that I’m here, it still feels as elegant and opulent, but I don’t feel like such an outsider.
“He’s meeting you in conference room number two.” Miles points to a set of double doors and then opens them to escort me inside.
“Thank you,” I say, and he nods with a smile before walking away.
I enter the room and see Sebastian standing by the long mahogany conference table. He’s in suit pants and a button-down that’s rolled up to his elbows.
His face ignites in a huge grin as he splays his hands out to his sides. “You’re going to love me,” he says.
I stop in my tracks, his enthusiasm catching me off guard, as is the way his impressive physique is on display under the thin white shirt. Sinewy muscle makes him look larger than his over six-foot frame.
“I do.” I pause and then correct myself. “I will.” I try not to smack myself in my head for sounding so dumb. “I mean, I am?”
“Yes. Here, come in.” He motions for me to join him where he has a few different papers laid out on the table.
I place my bags on the table, dying to know why I’m going to love him.
“Do I smell Chinese?” he asks, pointing to the takeout bag.
“Oh. I thought you’d be hungry since it is practically dinnertime. I wanted to thank you for helping me with dinner. I figured you can’t go wrong with General Tso’s chicken, lemon chicken, and chow mein. I hope that’s okay.”
His face morphs from confusion to surprise to wonderment. “Wow, yes. What a great offering. Thank you.”
I open the bag and empty the contents, including paper plates and chopsticks.
“Do you want me to get you real plates, Mr. Blake?” Miles asks from the doorway.
I look up at Sebastian. “These plates are just fine for me unless you want something nicer. Don’t go all formal on my account.”