Her Red-Carpet Romance Read Free

“It hasn’t learned to open itself.”
    She laughed. “I was surprised that you have a house in Newport Beach,” she confessed. “You’re not all that far from where I live.” Initially anticipating a long commute for the interview, she’d been relieved when she was told that he would see her in his Orange County home.
    â€œThings are a little chaotic here,” he admitted. “I haven’t finished getting all the furniture yet. I think of this as my home away from home. Don’t get me wrong, I love Hollywood.” Entering a first-floor bedroom he’d converted into an office, Lukkas crossed to his desk, took a seat and gestured for her to take a seat on the opposite side. “But sometimes you just have to get away from the noise just so you’re able to hear yourself think.”
    â€œYes, sir,” Yohanna responded.
    The smile on her lips was almost shy. He was amused but also somewhat skeptical about whether this petite, attractive young woman was equal to the job he needed doing.
    â€œI noticed on your résumé that your last job was with a law firm.” He raised an eyebrow as he took a closer look at the dark blonde sitting before him. “Are you a lawyer?” He was aware that most law school graduates had to begin at the bottom of the heap if they were even lucky enough to land a position with
any
firm.
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œDon’t do that,” he told her.
    She hadn’t a clue what he might be referring to. “Do what, sir?”
    â€œCall me sir,” he specified. “You make me feel like my father—not exactly a feeling I cherish,” he added more or less to himself.
    Even so, she’d heard him. “Sorry, si—Mr. Spader.” She’d managed to catch herself.
    â€œEven worse,” he told her. “My name is Lukkas. Think you can manage that?” Yohanna nodded vigorously. “Good,” he pronounced.
    Letting her résumé fall to his desk, he moved his chair in closer and leaned over, creating a feeling of intimacy. “So tell me, Yohanna with-the-unpronounceable-last-name, just what makes you think that you can work for me?”
    As a rule Yohanna had a tendency toward modesty, but she had the distinct impression that the man interviewing her didn’t value modesty. He valued confidence. She’d always had people skills, skills that allowed her to read others rather accurately. Lukkas Spader didn’t strike her as a man who had the patience to work with meek people.
    However she had a feeling that he respected—and expected—honesty. “Mrs. Parnell—”
    He held up his hand, stopping her right there. “Who’s Mrs. Parnell?”
    â€œShe’s friends with Theresa Manetti, the woman who—”
    He stopped her again. “I know who Theresa Manetti is,” he told her. “Go on.”
    Yohanna picked up the thread exactly where she had dropped it. “She said you needed someone to organize your schedules, your notes and keep up to the minute on all the details of your projects.”
    He studied her for a long moment. She couldn’t glean anything from his solemn, thoughtful expression. “And that would be you?” he finally asked.
    Yohanna detected neither amusement nor skepticism in his voice. He was harder to gauge than most. Not to mention that the man was definitely making her nervous. Not because he was so good-looking but because she really wanted to get this job. She wasn’t good at doing nothing.
    Yohanna pulled herself together. She was determined not to let the producer see how nervous he made her. His world was undoubtedly filled with people who fawned over him. She wanted him to view her as an asset, not just another fawning groupie or “yes” person.
    â€œThat would be me,” she replied, silently congratulating herself for not letting her voice quiver as she said the words.
    The