Rich People Problems

v | the not-so-nice chains

KIMBERLY

I DON'T KNOW why I was expecting doomsday when I entered the office.

The thought of having to marry someone filled my head with images of chains, and not the good kind. Reluctantly, I let out a heavy breath I didn't realize I was carrying as I walked in.

Not much changed, in terms of decor.

The familiar ceiling-to-floor windows lined two sides of the office and the rest of the walls were slate gray with minimal decorations.

The only difference was the lack of pictures or certificates of achievements lining the walls as they once did when this was Alex's office. You couldn't take two steps without pictures of Alex's two girls smacking you in the face.

As my feet carried me inside, my mind drifted to how comfortable I used to feel in Alex's office, which was—I'm assuming—at the other end of the floor.

The black leather sofas looked particularly inviting and I just wanted to plop myself on them.

It would be a realistic way for me to make a first impression, but I don't think it would be as effective as I was imagining it to be. My eyes wandered up to make contact with an unknown silhouette that was standing behind the desk.

Damn.

It was at this moment I was thankful that I was very good at hiding my emotions or reactions, unlike Savannah. I could call him handsome, gorgeous, or even stunning, but it would still not do justice to the fine man in front of me.

His skin was so beautifully tan with subtle olive undertones. Sharp, angular features paired with soft, pink lips to create a face that was sending butterflies to my stomach. And maybe other places. A clean, trimmed beard decorated his face and I found myself suddenly attracted to facial hair.

The dark brown hair—slightly long on the top and short on the sides—was messy, like he was constantly running his fingers through it.

From the get-go, I could see the similarities between him and Alex, but there was something so rugged and harsh about the beauty of the man before me.

For one second, Kimberly, can you stop thinking with your vagina and use your head.

How could I think... period.

If he was curious as to why I was staring at him for so long, he didn't let it show. In fact, he didn't let anything show. Not a single emotion was betrayed by his face. Something Alex definitely did not have.

I was so used to guys turning into pretentious assholes and smirking when they caught me staring at them for a second too long.

But not him.

If Jace Kingston was even the slightest bit satisfied that someone—that someone being me—was checking him out, he did not show it at all.

"I see what Savannah was talking about," his deep voice commented, bringing me out of my thoughts.

This is so unfair. He looks like that and sounds like this.

What. The. Hell.

"What?" I managed to let out in a steady tone.

He shook his head and chuffed quietly. "What can I do for you, Ms. Astor?"

"I think our current relationship status allows for you to drop the formality and just call me Kim," I snorted lightly at his formal verbatim. You would think that your future fiancé would call you by your first name, but apparently not.