Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
The merger was originally set to go through a year after the contract was signed, but legal issues kept it delayed. Random audits and deals that fell through. Something was clearly wrong, but it allowed my duty to Alana to stay on the back burner.
And for five long years, I’ve had to live with this secret. A lie that haunts me. An obligation to a woman I despise. I may have signed that contract, but it didn’t stop me from searching for the truth. I spent time and money trying to find video footage that didn’t exist, and credit card receipts that showed zero hotel charges. All for a night that never happened but had images that claimed it did. I was wild in college, fucked around and drank, but I never would have messed with drugs, let alone taken advantage of a woman. But there was no evidence to prove otherwise. Only the word of the scheming Alana Hill.
And now, after five long years of warding off that lying bitch, the merger is going through.
I look at my father, and his stare is anything but friendly. “Everyone will be in attendance at Thursday’s dinner. Assume it will be a celebration dinner. Don’t be late.” He exits my office, and I toss the paper in my drawer. My fingers grip the underside of my desk. I want to flip it over and burn that contract to ashes.
A knock sounds on my door, and my head snaps up. “What?” The knob turns, and Amy, my receptionist, sticks her head in. “Not now.”
“I have—”
“Dammit, Amy. Not—”
She pushes the door open, and my cock swells and thickens in my slacks. Beside her is the most captivating woman I’ve ever seen.
“Hi, sorry. I thought you said seven sharp. I can wait in the lobby—”
“No. Thank you, Amy.” Amy nods and smiles at my new assistant before closing the door behind her. I adjust my cock to hide my arousal and stand. Fire her. Fire her. Fire her. “Have a seat, Miss Evans.” I point to a round worktable, loving how her name rolls off my tongue. When she turns her back to me, my eyes land on her perfectly shaped ass. What the hell am I doing? I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to reset. Opening them, I walk over to the table.
My gaze lingers on her long chestnut hair, itching to run my fingers through the silky strands. I want to reach out and touch it. Bring it to my nose and inhale her scent. Jesus, I sound like a creep. She’s twenty-three. I’m nearing thirty. I have no business fantasizing about her—or anyone else, for that matter.
Taking the seat next to her, I pull the agenda Amy prepared and place it on the table. She takes it and offers me a smile. My damn dick jerks against my slacks. Fuck, her smile is perfection.
“I’m going to be real honest. I have no idea how to be an assistant. I’m a professionally trained chef. If this doesn’t—”
“If you’re done, can we start discussing my schedule?” Making coffee is the only experience she has, but she isn’t going anywhere. “You’re not a chef here. I expect you to learn my daily agenda and complete tasks before I even finish requesting them. Do I make myself clear?” Her smile falls, which I’m thankful for.
“Yep. Got it.”
“You will oversee my meetings and learn who my clients are. These are fiscal reports. Are you familiar?” I toss one in front of her, already knowing her answer.
“No—”
“Demographic reports?” I toss another one.
“Yeah, nope—”
“Miss Evans, are you even aware of what we do here?”
Her smile returns, and I want to kiss it off her. “Sure. Fortune 500 investment firm that buys land and sells it for a ton more.”
My frown deepens. “I expect you to do your homework, Miss Evans. When clients come in, I need you to know exactly what we do, not the Google version. Now. . .” I stand, needing the space, “I have a meeting. You need to familiarize yourself with these reports by the time I return. I have a stack that needs to be proofed for my afternoon meeting. Oh, and Miss Evans?”
“Yes?” she asks, less pep in her voice. She doesn’t like me. Good.
“Consider this your only warning. My coffee. I expect it first thing.” Her eyes narrow on me, and I turn, exiting my office.
Why the hell am I entertaining this? I know better. She’s a bad idea, and I have zero room for failure.
Chapter three
Fay
“He what?”
“He told me to study the reports, then left! Didn’t even come back! Total asshole.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I sat there all day trying to read those reports, and I still don’t know what half of it means. I was too afraid to leave to find the cafeteria, so I ate a smashed granola bar from my purse.”