I pull out my own chair, and we sit. The hostess takes our drink orders. Miss Shaw orders water, and I ask for a beer. The hostess rushes off.
Miss Shaw looks down at herself. “I feel underdressed. I didn’t realize it would be this…fancy.”
Fancy doesn’t even begin to describe this place. I don’t like that she feels this way. I want her to enjoy herself. Thing is, Miss Shaw is completely underdressed. Most women here have primped and preened for days before their reservation. Brows have been plucked, teeth whitened, clothing carefully selected and purchased. Botox and fillers administered. Special occasion jewelry taken out of the safe and dusted off especially for tonight. Dinner at The Black Swan is an event. The waiting list is a year to get a table. “You look just fine,” I say. I can’t exactly tell her she looks gorgeous.
Fine.
Understatement of the year. Miss Shaw is fucking beautiful. She doesn’t need any of the bullshit window dressing. “I mean it,” I add, and I do mean it. I have to stop myself from letting my gaze drop to where a hint of cleavage is showing. Just the barest hint. The dress comes to just above her knees. I want to hike it up…I want to—
I stop my thoughts in their tracks. I watch as she tries to smile, but I can see she’s nervous. “Remind me why you need me here tonight. Are you sure I don’t need my laptop or a notepad?”
“The reason I need you here is two-fold. I want you to meet the executive board of my newly-acquired company. It’ll help if you can put names to faces. B&H will take up a lot of my time and energy in the coming weeks. They’ll be a big focus of mine. You need to understand the ins and outs of the organization.”
“Fair enough. So, I’m here to socialize?” I see tension written all over her lovely face.
I want to cup her cheek and reassure her. “Yes.” I nod.
She blinks a few times, looking nervous. “I think I mentioned that I’m not a good people person and that I’m shy.” She winces. “I’ll do my best, though.” I wish I could get her to loosen up. I want her to enjoy herself.
Our waiter arrives. “I’m Luke. I’ll be your server for the evening.” He puts my beer and a glass in front of me, and Miss Shaw’s water with a glass containing a slice of lemon in front of her, then he pours for her.
“Can I order a glass of wine for you, Miss Shaw?” I ask. “Champagne, perhaps?” I lift my brows.
She shakes her head. “I’m technically on the clock.”
“You’re not on the clock.”
“This is work.”
“It’s dinner. If you want a glass of wine…or a cocktail…feel free.” I pick up the wine list. “Can I order you something? We agreed to celebrate your appointment. No pressure if you—”
She pushes out a breath and smiles. “Okay.” She nods. “Wine would be nice.”
I order a bottle of champagne, and the waiter leaves.
“That’s an interesting beer glass,” she says when I lift it up to take a sip.
“It’s a chalice glass. This particular beer is brewed by monks, believe it or not.”
Her eyes brighten up. “Monks! I didn’t know monks brewed beer.”
“Do you want to try it?” I offer the glass to her.
She wrinkles her nose. “Does it taste like beer?”
I choke out a laugh. “It does…yes. It’s still beer, Miss Shaw.”
“I’m going to have to decline, then. Thanks for the offer, but I don’t like the taste of beer.” She turns serious. “You were saying that the one reason I’m here is that you want me to meet the B&H board members. What was the other reason?” She takes a sip of her water.
“The problem I’m facing right now is that I’m more interesting to the press since I got voted onto some ridiculous list as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors.”
Miss Shaw giggles. “Number three, I believe. You lost to a viscount and a prince.”
I give her a mock dirty look. “I thought you only googled me from a professional standpoint, Miss Shaw, and my number three position has caused me nothing but grief.”
She blushes. “I’m sorry. It came up when I searched you from a business standpoint.” She shrugs. “I couldn’t help but—”
“It’s fine. I understand. It’s everywhere.” I take another sip of my beer. “I’ve had a whole lot of bad press ever since that article was published a couple of weeks ago. Even more so after some celebrity mentioned me in a reality television show. She wants to get me off the market or some bullshit.” I make a sound of frustration “Now, the paparazzi are hellbent on getting dirt on me. On making me out to be some sort of playboy. They’ve published a whole lot of crap recently. If I stand anywhere near a woman and someone snaps a picture, I’m suddenly deemed to be in a relationship with her. It’s a mess.” I run a hand through my hair.
“I saw an article online where they mentioned you dated an underaged girl just the other day. The pictures looked—”
I feel my blood fucking boil. My PA must see my reaction because she stops and licks her lips. “I’m sorry. As I said, it came up. I didn’t dwell on any of that nonsense. I was only interested in finding out information from a business perspective, I swear.”
I believe her. I nod. “It pisses me off because I haven’t dated anyone in a while. It’s been months.” Has it been that long? “That article was a load of bull. I have a reputation to uphold, Miss Shaw. I’m not a Rockstar or an A-list celebrity. In other words, I’m not someone who can get away with being a player. I broker major deals regularly. Trust and reputation mean a lot in this game. I can’t be seen in compromising situations. I need to lay low for a while…until the dust settles. As in, I can’t be seen to be dating anyone, or in any kind of a situation that can be misconstrued or taken out of context. The paparazzi will eventually lose interest, particularly if there isn’t much to see. I need you at my side to do that.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see our waiter approaching with the champagne. I hold up my hand and signal for him to wait a second.
“I’m still not sure how I can help.” She frowns.
“My PR manager will release a statement tomorrow once the pictures of us are published. It will soon be general knowledge that you’re my employee and not my latest fuck.” I see her pupils dilate as she pulls in a breath. I get the distinct impression that she isn’t put off by my bad language. That maybe she’s a little turned on by it. I love the idea of that. Miss Goody Two-Shoes might have a little naughty streak. I hope so.
She puts her tongue into her cheek. I can see she’s thinking it through. “You might need to spell it out to me. I’m your PA. I can’t change the public perception of you.”
“You could help my cause. You see, I plan on laying low as much as I can, but if that’s not possible, on occasions such as this, I want you with me to shield me from…this is going to sound crazy…but from women, like the hostess at the door. I can’t…have them near me. Touching is out of the question.”
Her eyes widen. “What if you want to actually date someone?”
I shake my head. “Not going to happen! I only plan on attending business meetings and events…like this. Events and meetings you will have to attend anyway.” I shrug. “I could hire a bodyguard, but I can imagine the bad press if some goon was pictured manhandling some poor woman who was just trying to say hi, or who was planning to show me to my seat. I can already see those headlines.” I pause. “The problem is that plenty of women get handsy with me all the time.”
“I have noticed.” She winces. “It can’t be easy dealing with that, even though they’re all gorgeous.” Ashley Shaw has no idea how gorgeous she is. “I can see how the press twists everything around,” she goes on. “I guess I could help, since I’m going to be with you anyway.” She gets up and sits next to me. “I’ll make sure a man gets that seat.” She points to the chair to my left.
“That would be great,” I say. “All I need is one of the board members’ wives, or the B&H Accounting Director, who happens to be a woman, to sit ne
xt to me to start up the next scandal. You’d be shocked at how many of the general public take pictures, which they then sell to gossip websites.”
“It must be awful!” She’s looking at me in that strange way again. It’s not the sort of look I’m used to getting. Pity. No one looks at me like that. Except maybe my mom, at times. “You shouldn’t have your reputation ruined when you’re a good guy.”
Not!
“I ultimately don’t give a shit about myself. It’s my mother who gets hurt every time.” Now I’m thinking about my mom, and that just came out.
“Your mom?” Her brows go up.
I shouldn’t say anything more, but I can’t help myself. Miss Shaw leans forward. “I keep disappointing my mother.” I can’t believe I’m saying all this, but it’s the truth. I haven’t admitted it to anyone else. I’m not sure why I feel the need to tell her, but I keep going. “All this bad press is affecting her, and I hate that. I hate that every time she picks up the paper or a magazine, there are pictures of me with a different woman. Women I mostly don’t even know. Smear campaigns that…” I pull in a deep breath. “I haven’t been a saint over the years, but I’m not the bastard they’re making me out to be either. It’s affecting my mom. Her wellbeing. Her mental health. Her view of me. It’s making her unhappy, and I hate that. As far as I’m concerned, everyone can go to hell and say whatever they want, but my mom…” I shake my head. “She raised me on her own. I owe her everything.” I force myself to stop talking because I’ve said too much already. I want a physical relationship with this woman. I want to ultimately use her. When the time comes to put my cards on the table, I won’t mince my words. I don’t plan on telling her about Gabby. It would be too complicated. I will lay it out for her, though. I shouldn’t be going down this road…or any road, for that matter, but I will. I feel I must! It’s the only way. I’m going to use her, and she will use me in return.
Win-fucking-win.
Then we’ll walk away and never look back. Done deal! Hopefully, I’ll be able to go back to how things were before the harpy fucked me up. Back to being myself again. That’s all I want and all I need.
“I completely understand. I mean, not completely…” Her eyes widen. “My folks are still together, and I’m not under the scrutiny of the world, and I…”
She’s so adorable. I chuckle. “You get it, though?”
“Yes.” She nods her head and smiles. “I do.”
“I’m glad that’s out the way. Enough of all this negative talk. The others should be here any minute.” I look at my watch. I specifically got here a little early to make sure everything was ready. I wave to the waiter who has been hovering nearby. He gets a distinct look of relief as he rushes towards us with the champagne. A few minutes later, the wine is poured into crystal flutes. The bottle is in a silver ice bucket to the side of our table.
“I can’t believe you ordered real champagne,” she murmurs, her eyes on the glass.
“This is a celebration. Only champagne would suffice.” I see our hostess walking towards the table with a couple, more than likely one of our party, so I talk quickly. “Congratulations on your new position with The Zeus Group. I sincerely hope you will be happy and fulfilled in your role as my personal assistant and…um…bodyguard.” I hold the glass out to her.
She laughs, and we chink glasses.
I certainly plan on working hard to make that happen. Especially the fulfilled part. I want Miss Shaw fulfilled in every way.
“Thank you,” she says. We sip just as the couple reaches our table. I stand, and Miss Shaw follows suit.
“Bolt,” the man says. “Good to finally meet you in person. I’m Teddy Standerton, and this is my wife, Kelly.”
I shake both their hands. “This is my personal assistant, Ashley Shaw. She’s my right hand. She handles everything for me,” I say to them.
“It’s so lovely to meet you.” Miss Shaw also shakes their hands.
“Ted,” I say. “I’m glad you’re still with us. It was touch and go there for a while.”
“It’s been tough,” he says. “I won’t lie. This has been the toughest week of my career.” He starts going over some issues he’s been having with senior management.
“Are you already talking shop, dear?” his wife asks, but she’s smiling, which takes the edge off her comment.
“Why don’t you come and sit next to me, Kelly?” My PA suggests. “Teddy can sit next to Bolt so that they can catch up on work stuff.”
“Great idea,” Kelly says. “Oooh…is that champagne?” she asks.
“It is indeed.” Miss Shaw calls the waiter over. “Call me Ashley…” I’m listening to Teddy with half an ear. For someone who’s supposedly not a people person and shy, I think she’s already doing great. I need to get hold of Legal in the morning. The sooner I get that proposal in front of her, the better.
13
Ashley
It’s a little past ten, and we’re already en route back to the hotel. I’m tired. That was completely out of my comfort zone, but I enjoyed myself. I’m buzzing a little from the champagne. What a treat!
My stomach grumbles. I put a hand to my belly. I’m also hungry, even though we ate six courses. They were delicious but tiny. Two bites and they were done.
“Hungry?” Bolt asks, I hear the shock in his voice.
I don’t know what to say. He must have paid a small fortune for our meal, and the truth is, I am still hungry. It seems wrong, somehow. “I’ll grab a snack in my room.”
“Room service?” he asks.
“Either room service or, I noticed some snack items in the minibar.” In my room. I have a fully stocked minibar in my huge hotel room…which happens to be fabulous. Huge. Beautiful and utterly fabulous! I noticed that the cashews cost a small fortune. I wonder what actual room service would cost. More than I’m willing to spend. I shouldn’t even have the cashews, but I’ll make an exception just this once and treat myself before bed. I shouldn’t, but I will. “I saw some nuts in there.”
“You like nuts?” He sounds amused and flirtatious. I swear, he’s too good-looking for his own good. That’s why everything the man says sounds like an innuendo.
I need to get over myself. “Um…yes…I like them. I guess I am a tad hungry, and they’ll fill the gap nicely.” Now I sound flirtatious. I don’t mean to.
“If you want, we could stop and pick something up?”
“I’m happy to eat nuts.” Did I just say that? I didn’t mean to say that. Or, I didn’t mean to say it like that. “We could stop too,” I quickly blurt out, trying to cover up all this nut-eating talk.
There is silence for a few very long seconds. I think I see his shoulders shake for a second or two, but I could be wrong. Then Bolt leans forward. “Is there somewhere around here we could get a takeout?” he asks our driver, sounding completely together.
We happen to be driving under a streetlight, so I see the driver nod. He names a well-known takeout place. A burger franchise joint. “Or I could take you to a local restaurant. It’s small and would be quiet at this time of night. I know they would do a takeout for you…no problem. Much better food – I’m hoping you like authentic Italian – and you would be supporting our local community.”
I prefer that idea. “Yes! I love Italian food. Did somebody say garlic bread? I mean, if you don’t mind, Bolt?”
I hear him draw in a breath, and even that sounds sexy. “I must admit, Miss Shaw, I could eat something. And a local restaurant sounds better than a burger joint. You sure you wouldn’t prefer those nuts?” Again, he sounds flirtatious.
“The local restaurant sounds perfect,” I say, even though I have several nut responses all lined up. I need to remind myself that although Bolt has shared more than I thought he ever would, he also made it quite clear that we’re not actually friends. It’s that NDA, and the fact that he literally can’t share with many people. There will be no more joking nut references. There definitely won’t be any flirtatious nut ref
erences, lest I make a fool of myself.
“Let’s go, then.” Bolt’s voice seems deeper, sitting here in the dark.
“Okay.” The driver activates his indicator and turns. A few minutes later, we’re pulling up outside a laundromat. Why are we outside a laundromat?
“Are we at the right place?” Bolt asks.
“Yes, we are.” The driver sounds excited.
I put my hand on the handle to open the door, but Bolt shakes his head. “Sit tight, Miss Shaw.”
As before, the driver opens for him, and he walks around the vehicle, moving impossibly quickly, and opens for me. He puts out his hand and I take it. His much bigger, much warmer one envelops mine. I can smell a hint of expensive cologne and, man…I feel this zing of awareness move through me. I ignore it flat. As I pull myself to my full height, I’m reminded of how big he is…how small I am…okay, a bit of both.
He lets me go.
“You should go through there. You won’t miss it.” The driver points down a dimly lit alleyway.
Now that I’m outside the car, I think I can hear music. I can definitely smell garlic. I’m still wary. We’re in a strange part of town. There are no other restaurants or bars around.
Bolt must sense my hesitation because he says, “You’re safe with me, Miss Shaw,” his voice deep. I’m instantly at ease because I don’t doubt that for a second. Even if I were armed, I wouldn’t mess with Bolt.
“I could walk you down?” the driver offers.
“We’re all good,” Bolt says, and we start to walk. I’m half expecting him to put his hand to my back again, but he doesn’t.
We walk down the alleyway. It’s clean and neat, as far as alleyways go. I can see light spilling out of a doorway up ahead. The music is coming from there. It’s very Italian-sounding, putting me even more in the mood for pasta and garlic bread.
Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods Book 5) Page 10