Let Me (O'Brien Family, #2)

“Do you really think they’re qualified?” she interrupts.

I open my mouth to argue and insist that they are―and to remind her I’m her superior, not the other way around. But Ann and Clifton are still fairly new. They’re not at the level I need them to be. However, they’re learning fast under my tutelage and the only ones from the original staff that I currently trust.

“Evan?” she presses.

“Maxine, Ann and Clifton will handle it. That’s my final word.” I disconnect then, swearing as I take the ramp and practically glide down sideways.

“Get a real car, fucker,” another proud Pennsylvanian hollers.

I rub my face again, both because I’m tired and equally frustrated. Three in the morning. That’s the hour I arrived home earlier today. It wouldn’t have taken me as long had I been driving a vehicle capable of enduring this ridiculous weather.

I glance up, releasing a tense breath when the sign from the Ford dealership I researched this morning comes into view. Saving iCronos will take me time. Time I can’t spare driving a Jaguar on roads better maneuvered via dogsled.

My car slows to a stop in front of the massive dealership. The combination of the vehicle I’m driving along with the expensive suit I’m wearing beneath my long wool coat commands attention. The moment I step inside, a young woman with short dark spiky hair hurries over. “Good morning, sir. Are you interested in acquiring a new vehicle?” she asks.

She seems young, but eager, a respectable attribute. Yet no sooner does she finish speaking than a man about my age steps in front of her, adjusting the jacket of his gray suit. “I got this, P,” he tells her. “Get us some coffee, will you?” He holds out his hand. “Hello. I’m Oscar Nelson. Welcome to Ford Nation.”

My frown bounces from his hand to the young woman whose face is now bright red with anger, humiliation, and possibly more. “Are you his secretary?” I ask her.

“No,” she answers. “I’m a car sales representative for Ford Nation―”

Oscar begins to talk over her, but it’s the stomping sound of quickly approaching footsteps that lures my focus. A woman with a pinstripe jacket and matching skirt storms forward, the quick motions of her long toned legs causing the edge of her skirt to brush above her knees and swing her hips seductively. Long hair flutters like a black silk sail behind her, revealing a face better suited for my wildest dreams. Sapphire blue eyes shimmer behind a thick layer of dark lashes, lighting her creamy white skin and full pink lips.

I spent the first two years following my completion of my masters in either a lab or boardroom packed with men in alternating stages of balding, and these last three months working eighteen hour days trying to rebuild an empire. I haven’t had the opportunity let alone the time to meet women. But if I knew women like her existed, I would have spared a moment.

Good . . . Lord.

I don’t realize I’m gaping until she stops directly in front of us and juts out her chin. “Problem?” she asks Oscar.

Oscar stiffens his posture. “No. I was just showing Mr. . .” He motions to me. “My apologies, what’s your name, sir?”

“Jonah,” I say, returning my full attention to the stunning young woman. I offer her my hand. “Evan Jonah.”

A smile eases along her face, revealing a set of perfect white and drawing more attention to her delicate features. “I’m Erin O’Brien, but I go by Wren,” she says, shaking my hand with a firm grip before releasing me and easing the smaller woman forward. “How can Penny and I help you today, sir?”

“I was looking for either an SUV or a truck than can handle this winter,” I answer, doing all I can to keep my eyes from trailing down her body.

“Then you’ve come to the right place. Penny, will you show Mr. Jonah―”

“Evan,” I interrupt, mentally kicking myself for morphing into a fourteen year old boy the moment my eyes locked on this woman.

“Okay, Evan,” she says. “Penny, please show Evan our latest members of the Ford family to get an idea what may fit his needs.”

“Of course, this way, sir,” Penny answers with a smile.

I reluctantly follow behind Penny. Only because it’s now obvious I can’t rip my eyes away from Wren. But as we reach a black Explorer my attention trails back to her and Oscar. They’ve moved away from the main showroom and closer to the rear offices. Yet that doesn’t stop me from hearing their exchange.

“What the fuck was that?” Oscar snaps.

My spine stiffens. I storm forward, ready to demand he apologize for using such foul language in front of a lady.

“You being a raging asshole,” Wren replies.