Consumed by You (The Consumed Series, #1) SAMPLE

Sneak Peek

Excerpt to Consumed By You:

"Miss Fontaine?"

I glance up at the intimidatingly stunning receptionist hovering a few feet away and raise my hand neurotically, my distressed nerves getting the best of me.

Why are you raising your hand like you're in middle school?

I immediately drop it like lightning into my lap, glancing fleetingly to the scattered individuals waiting in the enormous lobby as I have been. "That's me."

She smiles politely, showcasing a flawless set of pearly white teeth. "Right this way."

I stand and proceed to follow her down the long white hallway. I look around in awe at the innovative architecture of the building; the immaculate marble floors, the high-end sculptures that resemble nothing of consequence, the pungent smell of genuine leather furniture circulating in the air.

Everything is so clean. This place practically screams new money. My throat is already tight from nervousness. I don't think I've ever stepped into a business this arresting, this elevated.

Another stunning raven-haired woman dressed in all black is sitting behind a sleek desk of the same color, typing away on her computer. She notices me approaching and another Stepford smile blinds me.

Okay, now I'm uncomfortable.

I don't fit in here at all. These girls are like supermodels. Were they picked up at a runway show or something? I take in the semi-casual outfit I stupidly picked for this momentous occasion with distaste. It's a light gray dress, but I'm starting to think flats were maybe not the best choice. The woman's Louboutins clink against the shiny marble floor and I groan inwardly.

How does she afford Louboutins?

They must be paid really well here. The thought comforts me for a fleeting moment until she stops at a lofty doorway.

"Head right in, Miss Fontaine. She is expecting you."

"Thank you." I turn the brass doorknob with shaky fingers and flash a smile at the elderly woman perched behind another black desk, just like the one in the lobby. She is sporting a navy blue pantsuit and looks impeccably groomed, her silver hair smoothed back into a tight bun, not a stray strand out of place. She regards me cordially, finding me fidgeting at the threshold of the room.

"Come in. Take a seat." She gestures to the plush leather seat in front of her. "No need to be shy."

She continues typing as I sit, patting down my ironed dress. The room is bright and beautiful, the New York skyline in the window taking up a whole wall behind her. I can already imagine they pay their decorator a fortune.

"That's a gorgeous orchid," I observe conversationally, checking out the violet flower on her desk.

"They are my favorite," she states. "I'm sorry I'm being so rude. I'm almost finished. I have to get this to Mr. Scott within the hour."