Chapter 5 Why you keep on staring at me

She entered the office and closed the door carefully before looking at the man seated behind the massive oak desk. 

Dark suit. Piercing blue eyes framed by dark eyelashes. Martin Milano.

Zoe swallowed.

“Hello, I’m Zoe Cavalier,” she said, her gaze dropping to Milano’s gray tie. A blue one would have suited him better, would have brought his eyes more. Not that a gray tie made his eyes unnoticeable; far from it. Milano’s eyes were strangely intense despite being completely unreadable. It was hard to look away from them, and Zoe found her gaze being dragged back to them, against her will.

She’d never seen eyes so intense. Derek Montreal’s black hawk-like gaze came close, but not quite.  

The silence stretched.

And the longer it lasted, the more unsettled—and curious—Zoe felt. Milano’s gaze definitely could be called a stare now, which didn’t make any sense. If she didn’t know better, she might think Milano was checking her out, and that makes her quite nervous, to be honest.

Zoe cleared her throat a little. “Is there something on my face, Mr. Milano?”

Still staring at her, Milano said, “You’re British, correct?”

“Whatever gave me away?” Zoe quipped before she could stop herself.

Milano’s dark brows went up a little, as if he couldn’t believe that some lowly intern dared to joke with him.

Zoe met his gaze unflinchingly. If Milano had a problem with it, he was welcome to fire her. Zoe actually wouldn’t mind being fired, because then she wouldn’t have to spy on anyone and could tell the Montreal with a clear conscience that she had tried, but alas, the guy was too much of a prick.

“Do you have any relatives in America?” Milano said, not taking the bait. His unnerving gaze remained fixed on Zoe.

It was making her feel weird. Self-conscious. And on edge.

“As far as I know, no,” Zoe replied, putting her hands behind her and trying not to fidget.

Milano made a thoughtful sound and finally looked away.

Zoe breathed out. She glanced around the room before returning her eyes to Milano’s face.

It was a good face, she had to admit. Strong and handsome, the touch of gray in Milano’s dark hair adding something distinguished to his looks. 

“Do I remind you of someone?” Zoe said at last, breaking the silence again.

Milano’s gaze snapped back to her. His brows drew together. “You do, actually.”

Zoe wondered if it would be rude to ask one’s boss who she reminded him of. She came to the conclusion that it would definitely be rude. But she asked the question anyway. “Who?”

Milano’s face was blank. “My ex-wife. You could have been her twin.”

Well, awkward.

Since Zoe had no clue how the man felt about his ex-wife, she couldn’t be sure if it was a good thing or not. But considering the fact that she was an ex-wife, it was unlikely that Milano got warm and fuzzy feelings when he looked at her.

A grimace crossed Milano’s face. “Are you sure you aren’t related? Regina Travers?” 

“Very sure. Born and raised in London, my entire family too. It’s actually the first time I’ve traveled overseas in my life.”

Milano eyed her in an assessing manner, as if he suspected Zoe of lying. 

Zoe almost laughed. You’re suspecting me of the wrong thing. 

Turning serious, she met the other man’s eyes and said, “I swear I’m not in any way related to your ex-wife, Mr. Milano. But if my presence bothers you, you should absolutely transfer me away. I’m just an intern.”

A strange emotion flickered in Milano’s eyes. “It doesn’t ‘bother’ me,” he said, his voice so cold it made Zoe a little uncomfortable. “I couldn’t care less about my ex-wife.”

Right. That’s why you’ve been staring at me since I got here.

But Zoe didn’t push. There were things no one liked to talk about, and ugly breakups were one of them.

“Then you still want me as your PA?”

“I still need an assistant, and my secretary assured me you can do the job adequately until my assistant can return to his job.”

Zoe nodded. “May I ask about my job responsibilities?”

“You will organize meetings and appointments. You will remind me of them—”

“There are apps I can download on your phone for that.”

The glare she received from Milano for interrupting him—and daring to suggest an entirely reasonable, modern solution—would have made anyone squirm. But after decades of being on the receiving end of Zachary’s stern looks, Zoe was kind of used already to bossy personalities. Maybe she should introduce them to each other, she thought, amused.

“Sorry,” she said, giving Milano her best innocent look. “Go on!”

“Your job is pretty easy as far as jobs go,” Milano said.

Right. That’s why your PA had a nervous breakdown.

“You will book and arrange travel, transport and accommodation. You will manage databases and filing systems. It will be your responsibility to make sure that the suits I keep in my office”—Milano motioned toward the door that presumably led to the closet—“are clean and unwrinkled. You will accompany me to meetings and take notes.” Milano paused, looking at her, as if daring Zoe to say that there were apps that could do that, too.

Zoe kept her mouth shut, her lips tightly pursed to stop herself from smiling. 

“There are hundreds of other small tasks you will have to perform. I have neither the time nor the desire to recite them for you. You job is to make my life easier; that’s all you need to remember. Your job is to follow my orders, as quickly as possible. You will do everything I say, exactly as I say.”

Zoe nodded, hoping she looked appropriately serious and earnest.

Judging by Milano’s narrow-eyed gaze, she hadn’t entirely managed to hide her mirth.

“Am I amusing to you?” Milano said.

“Not at all,” Zoe said honestly. “But the situation kind of is.”

Milano raised an eyebrow. 

Zoe was impressed. As a woman, she could never manage to raise a single eyebrow without looking constipated and ridiculous: she knew it because she had practiced the expression in front of the mirror but ended up laughing at herself every time. People who could do it and make it look effortless must be some kind of freaks. 

“The situation?” Milano repeated.

Heaving a sigh, Zoe nodded with a sheepish smile. “I kind of came to America to take a break from my bossy eldest brother, but now I have a boss who can give him a run for his money. It’s pretty ironic, isn’t it?”

Milano stared at her strangely, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of her. “You’re very odd.”

Zoe laughed. “Thanks. I think.” At least odd was better than boring.

Milano was still staring at her.

“Um,” Zoe said with a small smile. “So, am I hired?”

“Yes.” Milano’s gaze finally moved away from her. He stared at his computer, but Zoe got the strangest impression that he wasn’t really looking at it.

Zoe cleared her throat. “So, do you want me to do something for you right now, Mr. Milano?”

Milano shook his head to himself before returning her gaze to Zoe—and staring again.

It was starting to really weird Zoe out.

She moistened her dry lips with her tongue, unsure what the hell was going on. 

Milano looked away again, something irritated about him. “Make me coffee,” he said testily, nodding toward the unobtrusive door to the right. “Black, no sugar. You do know how to make coffee, right?”

“Of course not,” Zoe said with a straight face. “It’s illegal to drink anything other than tea in England.”

Milano gave her an unimpressed look. “Then let’s hope you’re a quick learner. I want my coffee within ten minutes.”

“Sure.” Striding toward the door, Zoe rolled her eyes. The guy needed to lighten up.

“Rolling your eyes at your employer is a fireable offense, Zoe.”

Zoe froze, confused, before realizing that there was a mirror on the wall and Milano must have been watching her through it. 

“Creep,” Zoe muttered under her breath.

“Calling your employer names when he can’t hear you is a fireable offense, too,” Milano said, his voice very dry.

Zoe looked over her shoulder and smiled. “You should fire me, then.”

Milano’s narrow-eyed gaze was the last thing Zoe saw before she closed the door behind herself.

She looked around the small room. It had a red couch, a table, a fridge, and a coffeemaker. A very fancy coffeemaker.

Zoe eyed it warily.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her phone and opened Google. She would be damned if she proved Milano right.

She was going to make the best coffee that prick had ever tasted...

Just wait you bastard!

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