Chapter 2: The Call Back

*Daphne*

Daphne felt her stomach churn. Her bottom lip started to tremble as the sound of Blackwood’s silken, honeyed voice rumbled through the speaker of her phone. All of the air had seized up in her lungs, causing her mind to fall blank.

“Miss Sullivan?”

She quietly cleared her throat and forced the words out of her mouth. “M-Mr. Blackwood?”

“Please, allow me to apologize for my behavior earlier today,” he started.

Daphne’s mouth fell open. “Mr. Blackwood, that’s really not—”

“Yes, Miss Sullivan, it is completely necessary,” Alistair insisted firmly. He sounded dejected and utterly defeated with himself.

“I had spent an entire morning filled with nothing but gawking adolescents who’ve never heard of the word ‘lancet’ before. And when I’m finally graced with someone who actually has the knowledge I want...I practically throw her out of my office,” he bit out angrily.

She couldn’t keep herself from smiling over the sardonic tone that echoed in her ear. It wasn’t everyday that a man of Alistair Blackwood’s standing was willing to own up to his unpleasant behavior and be so willing to apologize as well.

Daphne was somewhat impressed. She fought to remain as professional as she could even though there was a laugh that threatened to escape her throat.

“Well, as I recall, you did not ‘throw me’ out of your office, Mr. Blackwood. I walked out on my own accord,” she pointed out.

The sound of Alistair’s distressed tone shifted when he let out a deep, heart-stopping chuckle. Another round of goosebumps came rolling down Daphne’s arms.

“That you did, Miss Sullivan,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Look, my reason for calling you was not just so I could apologize for my conduct this morning; but, mainly because I want you to come back to the office tomorrow.”

Daphne felt a shameful tinge of pink cover her cheeks when all her mind could process were those three words. ‘I want you’.

Good Lord, what was wrong with her?

The girl had practically fought tooth and nail to prove to the man that she wasn’t like everyone else who he had interviewed that day. Now all of a sudden, her mind was making her remember just how fine Blackwood appeared sitting at his desk. How quickly her mouth had gone dry when she saw the sinful dark features of his sculpted face accompanied by his stormy blue eyes.

It was almost enough to make her forget that she was already, in fact, engaged to someone else. Daphne became washed with guilt as soon as her gaze dropped to her left hand to glance at the ring. The same ring that Alistair couldn’t seem to keep from glaring at.

“Mr. Blackwood, I...I’m not sure if that’s—”

“My office, Miss Sullivan. Nine o’ clock sharp.”

And with that last thought, Blackwood ended the call, leaving Daphne gaping without a chance to politely decline the man’s request.

She lowered the phone from her ear and hissed under her breath. “What the hell just happened?”

She heard her friend chortle in the background. “I think you just got a second interview.”

Daphne turned to look at Brianna in complete bewilderment. “And I must really be out of mind to even consider going back there,” she muttered. “The man basically accuses me of wanting to get into his pants and then suddenly freaks when I flashed my engagement ring.”

“Ah, yes, speaking of the mysterious fiancé, where is Rowan on such an eventful night like this?” Brianna asked with heavy skepticism.

Daphne’s brows drew together. Normally, she was always quick to defend Rowan’s lack of attendance. According to what she’s been told, his job was considerably time consuming and it was all in spite of providing a future for the both of them. However, in moments such as this, Daphne wished that Rowan was there for her this morning and right now.

She had attempted to call him twice before her fingers scrolled to Brianna’s number. Not that she wouldn’t think to call her best friend, but Daphne wanted to hear Rowan’s voice. She wanted him to be the one to calm her nerves and give her support. But hell, even now the man was proving difficult to get a hold of.

“Rowan has just been really busy with work lately,” Daphne said loosely with a shrug. “I’m sure he really wants to be here right now.”

Brianna peered at her over her wine glass and merely shook her head. Daphne had tried telling her fiancé about the interview, and was hoping to hear a few words of encouragement. But all Rowan managed to come back with was the question ‘why?’.

“Why ‘that’ company?” he had asked bitterly.

After attempting to explain her desire for wanting to potentially work with someone as talented and unique as Alistair Blackwood, Rowan ended up dropping the conversation. Daphne realized quickly that when it came to work endeavors, the two of them existed separately.

. . .

Nine AM came faster than Daphne would have liked.

And, once again, it was yet another sleepless night. Instead of losing sleep over her anxiety of getting through the interview as she had before, Daphne had become plagued with just the thought of having to see Alastair Blackwood again.

She climbed out of bed to the sound of her alarm and hastily got ready as she had done so the day before. Having chosen a different set of business attire, Daphne tied her hair back and opted for a gentler usage of makeup.

She waved herself off to Brianna who lazily poured a large mug of coffee and yawned. “You got this!” her friend shouted.

Daphne plastered a fake smile on her face before dragging her feet to her car. Before she knew it, she was standing right back where she was yesterday. Standing awkwardly in front of Blackwood’s office, Daphne proceeded to curse herself until finding the courage to walk through the door.

“What the hell am I doing back here?” she asked herself.

Daphne hadn’t allowed herself to become swept up in the overstimulating grandeur of the lobby as she had before. She was on a clear mission to heart Blackwood out and potentially never see the man ever again.

“Miss Sullivan,” Alistair called out smoothly.

Daphne was truly beginning to hate the way her heart stammered in her chest whenever Blackwood said her name. For whatever reason, the man always spoke it with a clear tone of ownership. As though she, herself, was one of his many projects that he had created and pieced together.

“Mr. Blackwood,” she acknowledged with a short tilt of her head.

“Please, sit down.”

There was not a trace of arrogance nor exhausted anger to be found on him. In fact, Daphne hadn’t expected to hear such a gentle tone coming from such a self-assured man of his stature. It was hard to believe that she was sitting in front of the same person as she was the day before.

Alistair Blackwood sat back in his chair, wearing a dark navy blue jacket over a simple white dress shirt. His hair was styled with ease as the sides were combed back while he let the stunning silver streaks wave through the front.

Daphne quickly sat down as she mentally shamed herself for wanting to reach out and run her fingers through his hair. Her heart skipped several beats until Alistair broke his gaze from her.

He casted his eyes down to his desk. A small smirk played on his lips. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if you would actually come back.”

Her nerves coiled from the tenderness in his voice. Daphne shifted in her seat and fought to ignore the warmth that settled in her lower stomach. “Well, I’ll be honest with you. I never thought that I would be back here either,” she mused.

Alistair’s smile deepened, sending dozens of startling goosebumps down her arms.

“I’m pleased that you are,” he stated roughly. “You see, Miss Sullivan, in the midst of my misjudging you yesterday, you’ve demonstrated that you are more than capable of standing your ground. And that is exactly what I need.”

Blackwood went on to explain. “There are times when I’ll be in the middle of a project and I tend to let myself become carried away. I lose all sense of time and sometimes end up drowning in my own mess. I need someone who won’t be afraid to remind me when it’s necessary to stop.”

Daphne felt a blush creep over cheeks. She reached up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear and forced herself to look him in the eyes. Everytime she stole a glance at his remarkable features, her heart would flutter like some hopeless teenager fan-girling over their favorite idol.

“How long do you usually stay in your office for work?” she asked.

Alistair blew out a long breath and rolled his shoulders back. “Truthfully, it tends to vary throughout the year. If I’m in the middle of a project that has a set deadline, then I could be working well over twelve hours a day.”

“I see.” Daphne nodded. “And would I be expected to stay on as long as you’re in the office?”

“Yes,” he answered without missing a beat. “Granted you’ll mainly be filling in for Erica with her secretary responsibilities but, based on your architectural knowledge from your studies, I may have greater use for you.”

“By all means, use me,” she said mindlessly.

Daphne’s heart stalled in her chest while her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. She could feel her face heating up by the second.

‘Oh my God,’ she thought angrily. ‘Did I seriously just say that?!’

The bigger question was, was her mind seriously envisioning him taking her over the top of his desk?

Alistair’s expression in that same moment was one that Daphne would carry with her for the rest of her life. Not only did he look like the cat that caught the canary, but he possessed the look of a man that wanted to take her up on her sweet offer.

She hastily cleared her throat and shook her head in sheer embarrassment.

“What I mean is, I didn’t think that I would have a chance to actually work with you on projects,” she clarified weakly. “At most I figured I would just be answering calls and scheduling meetings.”

“I saw the way you looked at the room when you first entered it yesterday,” he noted smoothly. His honeyed voice rolled over her body like a cooling wave. “Your eyes scanned nearly every corner. Even when I was looking over your resume, you continued to look around like you couldn’t stop yourself.”

“It’s true, I couldn’t.” Daphne bit the inside of cheek. “Not many designers use a classic, Georgian interior style anymore. Even the main lobby, although designed to reflect the renaissance era, is still not commonly used. A lot of them prefer more modern looks.``

“Exactly,” he hushed under his breath. A devious knowing smile curved his mouth. “Were you as intrigued by the lobby as you were about the office?”

Daphne laughed. “I almost missed our first scheduled interview because I couldn’t stop staring at everything.”

Hearing Blackwood chuckle again was like hearing a long forgotten song that made her feel nostalgic. It kept rubbing her in all the right places and left her wanting for more. Daphne was honestly afraid of moving from her seat, knowing fully well that she was wet between her thighs.

As shameful as it may have been for her body to be reacting in such a way, Daphne was beginning to recognize something oddly familiar about Alistair’s features. It was like she had seen him somewhere before, prior to their meeting each other...

Her thoughts were swiftly cut when Blackwood stood up from his chair. “Well, Miss Sullivan, I would be deeply honored and grateful if you were to take over Erica’s position here,” he said firmly.

Daphne slowly rose from her seat, clenching her thighs together while mindlessly reminding herself that she does have a fiancé and cannot be having any sort of inappropriate thoughts about the man that was about to become her new boss.

She shoved her train of thought to the side and offered a genuine smile in return. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood. I will happily accept the position.”

Her body was buzzing with excitement. Good lord, she got the job.

Alistair reciprocated her enthusiasm and gracefully held out his hand to her. Just as Daphne lifted her right hand, Blackwood stopped her.

“Your left hand, Miss Sullivan,” he pointed out with a gentle smile. “If I may, I’d like to see that engagement ring of yours again.”

“Oh. Of course.” She lifted a slightly shaky left hand to rest into his open palm. Her stomach fluttered as she felt the intense weight of his eyes inspecting her ring.

“Your fiancé...” His voice was thick with reverence, causing Daphne to feel deeply uncertain of his meaning. “...They have very fine tastes.”

An old chill ran down her spine, however she refused to let herself think anything of it. She’d gotten the job ‘and’ Alistair was willing to let her voice her opinion on certain projects. The girl was utterly elated and couldn’t wait to get back to her apartment to tell Brianna, as well as Rowan. That is, of course, if the man was willing to answer his phone.

Blackwood blinked back the grave look in his eyes before gracing her with that million dollar smile of his. He lowered Daphne’s hand and leisurely walked her over to the door.

“I will have Erica forward you all the important documentation late today,” he told her. Alistair leaned against the frame of the open door and peered down at her. “I’m very much looking forward to working with you, Miss Sullivan.”

Something in the back of her mind told Daphne that she was about to become way in over her head.