“Are you ok, Miss…um”,

“Evie, call me Evie”, feeling like a moronic fool. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. His muscular body pressing against mine aroused a sensitive throbbing between my legs. He was gorgeous. How I wish we could just lie like this forever. Pressure lifted from my chest, the release instinctively allowed air to fill my lungs. He was standing, in front of me. Not a single dark hair out of place. I couldn’t compose myself quite so eloquently. My body felt like a quivering mass of female hormones.

Mr tall dark stranger held out his hand, “Take it.”

I obeyed and slipped my slender fingers into his firm palm. With a swift single movement he had pulled me up to my feet. It took me a moment to process the intensity I was feeling for this tall, dark stranger. He was a vision of perfection.

“What floor?” The realization that I was still pulled into his chest made me instinctively step backwards. I felt the blush warm my pale skin. His eyes warmed to me and a sinfully good smile crossed his lips.

“What floor did you want Evie?”

“Oh um”, I glanced through my papers, “twelve please”.

We travelled up the climbing elevator in silence. I tried to distract myself and think about the impending day of work I had. Designing and making real jewellery that people would buy. I was now worried I had just destroyed my opportunity before it had even begun.

My thoughts were broken by the noise of the lift coming to a halt. I looked up and here I was, the number twelve glowed against the dark screen set above the lift doors. I glanced over to my tall, dark stranger, offering a nervous smile as I gathered my composure and left the lift. As the doors closed behind me I exhaled deeply.

Looking around me I headed in the direction the reception desk. The hall was bright, white, with high ceilings which allowed the light to reflect off of the huge mirrors which hung seamlessly from the walls. Directly in front of me was a sleek glass table. I ran my finger along the contoured edge. Behind it sat a beautifully presented woman. Perhaps Mid -40’s, but glamorous none the less. She had jet black hair cut into a short sharp bob. Surely that could not be her natural colour? I found myself thinking. I stood there taking in her polished appearance and bright red lipstick. I was waiting for a reaction from her but she kept her eyes pressed firmly to her computer screen. After a couple of minutes which seemed like an eternity I cleared my throat hoping this would gain her attention. It worked. She glanced up at me giving me the once over. I had never felt so self conscious in my life. I started to question my choice in clothing, no, I shouldn’t. I looked smart, or so I thought. I had my black pencil skirt on which clung to all the right places. It accentuated the curve of my lower body and pulled me in at the waist. With it I wore my white blouse tucked into the skirt with a little silver belt and a pair of nude stilettos. No I will not let her intimidate me, I look fine. Don’t I?

I smiled softly, “I am here for Karen Alboni, I am the new Goldsmith”.

She looked amused. “Oh the Goldsmith, I will just call Karen up”.

I couldn’t quite understand her need for sarcasm and the hostile tone in which she spoke to me, but in all honestly, I couldn’t care less. As woman’s figure approached from the distance my anguish began to subside. Karen was a kind and pleasant woman. Firm but fair. She was very short, petite. With waved auburn hair. A streak of metallic silver ran through the front of her fringe, adding a distinguished edge to her. Her glasses sat comfortably on the end on her nose giving a clear view of her warm grey eyes.

“I am so sorry I am late.”

“At least you are here now, but do not, under any circumstances be late into the office again. Understand.” I nodded continuously, making myself look like one of those ridiculous nodding dogs whose heads bob up and down in the back window of a car.

“I will show you to the workshop.”

“Okay, Thank you.”

I couldn’t help it when my mind started to travel to dark corners of my mind. I fantasized about my tall, dark, stranger resting pressing his body into mine again. I half smirked and removed it when I realized Karen was still looking at me.

Could this day get any worse?

We walked behind the reception desk and took a left into a long narrow corridor. This area had a more comforting architectural feel to it. Ox Blood red textured paper lined the walls.

Along the corridor there was a running line of doors to private offices. Between each door there was a sepia photograph of a variety of different faces framed with a crisp bronzed edge.

Karen noticed me looking at them intently. “They are all of the Webber family” she offered.

At the end of the corridor we reached two very grand doors, they must have been at least twelve feet tall. They had hand carved floral embellishments and looked aged, the kind of aged which added to the exceptionally high quality finish of furniture, somewhat antique. Not that I knew much about antiques, the oldest thing I owned was my three year old Swatch watch. We walked past the doors to the left and passed a compact kitchen. Further along was a glass fronted workshop.

Karen knocked on the door.

“Come in”.

As we entered I was distracted by the testosterone that filled the workshop. I was the only female and was now intensely nervous. Not only was I the only female, I was an exceptionally overdressed female. Glancing around the men wore sneakers, jeans, and t-shirts covered in dust. Bollocks. I looked like a complete moron.

“This is Evie” Karen introduced me to a small petite man. He seemed welcoming but he couldn’t quite hide the bemused smile from his mouth.

“Hi Evie, I am Dave. I am the manager of the workshop here at Webber HQ”.

“Nice to meet you”, I held out my hand and smiled at his decisive choice to ignore my lack of timekeeping skills.

“I will show you to your bench”. He walked me over to my working bench which sat between two other men.

“This is Martin” indicating to the older gentleman to my right. Shades of grey ran through his thick wiry hair.

Martin did not look up to acknowledge me. “Hello”, his voice was deep and raspy, his ignorance making a conscious decision to make me feel less than welcome.

“Hello Martin, very good to meet you”. I tried not to let his disposition deter me. This would have been the perfect time to think of a small witty response to lighten the mood, nope, nothing came to mind.

“This is Chris, He is my number two and will be here to help you getting into the swing of the working workshop”.

Chris looked over to me and gave me a welcoming smile, “Hi Evie, nice to meet you”.

“Likewise,” I returned feeling instantly more confident.

As I turned around I felt the air rush from my lungs. The hairs on the nape of my neck stood to attention leaving me breathless. There he was, my tall, dark stranger. His eyes looked instinctively into mine and the intensity increased. This feeling was inexplicable. I was speechless. He looked so calm and collected standing in the doorway of the workshop.

“Hello Evie, I am Henry Webber, a little late this morning are we?” His lips softened into a half smile.

I wanted the floor to swallow me up. I was mortified. I wanted to speak but my mouth just dropped open. My nerves resurfaced, making me fidget.

An agitated Karen nudged me. “Sorry, Mr. Webber, Everline really is a…”,

Henry mustled in, “It’s ok Karen,” a teasing smile crossed his face, “we have already met.”

I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I knew I was getting flustered and looking a shade closer to crimson every second I stood there. Sensing my embarrassment he pursed his lips as if he were going to say something. Karen was standing staring at us looking rather bemused. My heart was pounding.

“Enjoy your first day, Evie. I thought I would just drop by and introduce myself to the new Goldsmith.”

As he went to leave he paused after a step and turned to face Dave, “I need Evie to stop by my office at 9am.” His tone harsh and authoritative.

“Not a problem Mr. Webber, I will send her over.” Even Dave seemed intimidated by him.

I needed a second, I needed a minute, God I needed an hour. My legs felt so unsteady I leaned against the work bench to steady myself.

“What was that about?” Karen darted over at me.

“Um I just happened to get me heel stuck in the lift doors this morning, got pulled out by Mr. Webber and fell to the floor with him lying on top of me”.

Shock consumed Karen’s face. Her lips parted wanting to reply but she decided against it. I heard muffled laughter from Chris and Dave.

I put my bag on the coat hook and sunk into my softly cushioned black leather chair. It cocooned me. Thoughts flashed through my mind, falling…. his eyes… his body……… I gulped and wished for this day start over.

I began to go through my tools and placing them in order. I sat and pondered how this man, only five years my senior could be so successful. Henry was CEO of Webber Jewellers. A high end family jewellery chain that been passed down through the Webber family.

Although he had been fortunate to be born into this fortune his determination did not end there. He sourced new suppliers and new designers. He travelled all over the world to learn about his craft and ensure the company grew, which it had. Over the past three years it had grown from five small jewellery shops to having over three hundred boutiques worldwide. He campaigned tirelessly for the withdrawal of blood diamonds and wanted to make sure the materials his company used were ethically sourced and that the workers were paid a fair fee for their stones and metals. I admired him yet envied him. Wow, whatever I felt he was one hell of a man.