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Stepbrother, Sort of... Page 7
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Page 7
PRESTON
I lingered in the doorway of my office, watching Mirabelle as she took in the sights and smells of her new office. I remembered those days. The way the scent of the leather chairs filled my lungs. Running my hands along the freshly polished wooden desk. Pulling out smooth drawer after smooth drawer. Testing the keyboard on the computer to make sure the keys clicked just right.
She stood in the middle of the room, hands folded and grasped behind her waist as she took in the Manhattan views outside her window. The natural light almost seemed to illuminate her and she seemed to radiate from within in return. She was alive and completely in her element.
Mirabelle was the luckiest intern in all of Manhattan. I’d never done anything like that for any other intern before, but there was something different about her. It wasn’t because she used to be my stepsister. I hated nepotism. That wasn’t my thing. She showed promise. Hunger. Dedication. She wasn’t like most of the other college kids who walked in here like they owned the joint and went crying home the moment I put them in their place. If I had a dollar for every intern resignation that landed on my desk after just two weeks on the job…
Mirabelle was a different story, though, and with the right guidance, she could take over the world if she wanted to. Underneath my cold façade, buried underneath my iron heart and caged emotion, was a man who just wanted to be needed. Mirabelle needed me. She didn’t know it yet. But she needed me.
“Preston,” she said with slight embarrassment, startling me out of my moment. Her sweet, southern drawl nearly knocked me off my feet. “How long have you been standing there?”
I cleared my throat. “Not long. How about that view?”
She parted her full lips as if to answer, but I slammed my office doors before she had the chance. Our interactions needed to be limited and impersonal or else she’d never become the shining star she was destined to be. I needed her to fear me. I needed her to walk on eggshells around me. I needed her to want to please the hell out of me. It was for her own good.
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