Brightly Burning Bridges: A Bully Romance (Kings of Capital)

by Ivy Wild

  “I swear to God, if you are on Tinder right now, I will straight up murder you.” I didn’t know why I said it. I shouldn’t care if Silas was on Tinder or Grinder or whatever else people who had time used to hookup nowadays. Shields up, Sky, I reminded myself.

  He looked up from his phone, a smirk forming on his beautiful jawline. “We’re going to have to talk about the way you address your boss, Ms. Jackson.”

  I rolled my eyes at my new reality of Silas Jenkins being my boss. “Are you in or out?”

  “I’m simply waiting for your invitation,” he replied coolly.

  “I wasn’t aware I had a choice.”

  He tucked his phone into his pocket and fixed me with his chestnut stare. “We all have choices in life, Ms. Jackson. Talking to me is a choice. Opening the door was a choice. Accepting my offer was a choice. Deny it all you want, but every choice you make is a result of you balancing your desires against your disgusts. And in the end, your desires won out.”

  I felt sick. The way Silas made it sound like I desired him . . . hit far too close to the mark. Fucking shields UP, I had to remind myself again.

  “So, you’re saying I don’t have to invite you inside?”

  Silas sighed, his hands in his pocket, looking like a GQ model. “Of course not. But all choices have consequences. So, if we’re not able to sort out the details of your employment tonight, perhaps I meet someone else tomorrow I think would fit the job description better.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Someone who doesn’t threaten to murder me, perhaps.”

  I grit my teeth and looked down at the floor. “Won’t you come in?” I muttered.

  “How generous of you,” he almost mocked in response.

  He breezed past me and a fresh wave of Armani’s Acqua di Gio cologne surrounded me like a tornado of broken memories. It was the same scent he wore in high school. His signature, he’d claimed back then. I hated how much I loved the scent on him, even still. For most people, a scent like that, after everything that had happened between us and after, would probably make them want to hurl. But, for the past ten years, I’d been avoiding entering any mall through a Macy’s perfume department. Not because the scent made me sick, but because it made me weak.

  I closed the door and leaned against it, trying to keep as far away from him as possible. He was leaning against my kitchen counter, acting as if this was just another business meeting. And who knows? For him, maybe it was.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” I forced myself to ask. I reminded myself that I was about to be negotiating my salary with a man who had a reputation for driving difficult bargains off the sides of cliffs. The least I could do was not threaten to murder him—again.

  “No, thank you,” he replied, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “I didn’t plan on staying long.”

  I let out a sigh of relief and dared to move into the room, still trying to keep my distance from him and his scent. He moved towards me and I instinctively backed up. He chuckled and shook his head. “If we’re going to work together, you’re going to have to get rid of that habit of yours, Ms. Jackson. I expect us to be working together . . . intimately.”

  I couldn’t stop my face from scrunching at his words. A deep chuckle left his chest and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Silas, please don’t tell me this is all some joke.”

  He shook his head, his blond hair catching the low lights in the room. “It’s not a joke, Sky,” he said. “I’ve been told I’m very much in need of assistance and the universe just put you in my path.”

  I twisted my lips, opting not to say anything about that. Because if I did say anything, it would probably be something along the lines of wondering why the universe would decide to put me in the path of a runaway freight train.

  Silas rounded the sofa and took a seat, crossing one long leg over the other. He fixed me with his chestnut stare and gestured that I should sit, as well. Somehow, he seemed more comfortable in my own apartment than I did. I complied, begrudgingly, sitting as far away from him as the sofa would allow.

  He gave me his award winning smile before leaning back and resting his hand across the back cushion. “Have you ever been an assistant before?”

  I smiled coyly. “Yes.”

  “Care to elaborate?” His voice was light, but I knew Silas too well to let that put me at ease.

  “I previously served as an Assignments Assistant,” I explained and he raised an eyebrow.

  “And what were your responsibilities in that role?”

  “Oh, you know, managing my client’s assignments, tracking due dates, ensuring quality work was submitted in a timely manner to the proper party.”

  He was smiling. “Well, then it sounds like you’ve got the requisite experience. What a great opportunity you were given.”

  I brought my lips together and nodded. “Given my extensive experience, I’ll expect adequate compensation.”

  “I can assure you that the compensation package I offer is more than adequate.” He paused. “It even comes with extra benefits, should you desire them.”

  His innuendos weren’t lost on me and neither was his use of the word “desire.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Feel free to elaborate.”

  “You’re no fun,” he said in a chiding voice, obviously disappointed I hadn’t taken the bait.

  “I wasn’t aware salary negotiations were supposed to be fun.”

  He shook his head. “They are. Getting to see people squirm and fluster over something as simple as green paper? How could that not be fun?”

  I closed my eyes and tried to calm the rage that was building inside of me. When I felt like I could finally trust myself to respond, I fixed him with an exasperated stare. “Some people squirm and fluster over green paper because they didn’t fall into a giant pile of it at birth.” I scrunched my face. I hadn’t meant to say that last part.

  He shrugged. “So, what about you, Sky? How much green paper do you think you deserve to be my Executive Assistant?”

  I snorted. “All of it.”

  He laughed. “You just might be right about that.”

  I fought the urge to smile at his admission. It was good to know he understood he was somewhat of an asshole.

  “But seeing as I don’t have all of it, we’ll have to compromise. What’s your offer?”

  I hesitated. “Are you really going to make me quit the Pancake?”

  He looked me up and down and I tried to repress the shiver that ran through me. “Why? Do you like it there so much?”

  Of course I didn’t. No one my age liked serving bratty Northwest teenagers breakfast at 3 p.m. But it was a steady job I’d been able to rely on no matter what. “I’d rather not give it up entirely,” I finally admitted.

  “Why?”

  I rolled my eyes at him and he smirked. “I’m just curious why you’d want to keep a job you don’t particularly like.”

  “I never said I didn’t like it,” I pointed out.

  “No, but you never said you did like it. And if you did like it, that’s something you would have said.” He looked entirely pleased with himself. “So, why do you not want to give it up.”

  “Fine,” I huffed. “Because when whatever-this-is,” I said, gesturing wildly to the space between us, “inevitably dissolves, I don’t want to be left with nothing.”

  “Were you planning on quitting on me?”

  I shook my head. “Not planning on it, no.”

  “Then there’s no need to worry about being left with nothing. I’m not going to fire you and you’re not going to quit. So, you’ll have something. Leaving you free to exit the Pancake.”

  “Are you really going to make me?”

  Silas was starting to look bored and that was a bad sign. When he got bored, he turned mean. “I can’t make you do anything, Skyler. I told you that before. Life is all about choices. Your choices. So choose.”

  “Fine. But, if I’m not going to be able to work at the Pancake, I’m going to need a higher salary fro
m you to make up the difference,” I pointed out.

  He waved my comment off. “Yes, yes. Please dispense with your paper thin attempts to extort me and just name your price.”

  I tried to think of what would be reasonable for a position like this, plus at least a twenty percent misery tax for having to deal with Silas. “I want sixty thousand a year,” I said, trying to be as firm as possible. “And two weeks paid leave.”

  “You’ll get one hundred thousand a year, thirty days of paid leave, and you’ll be moving into the condo below mine free of charge. I don’t want to have to traipse my way to Northwest every time I need something from you.”

  I nearly choked on the air around me at his offer. There was no fucking way I was going to live beneath him. Being beneath Silas—period—was not something I would agree to. And as tempting as it was to accept so much money, I also didn’t want to be his indentured servant—again.

  “Eighty thousand and I stay here. I like this place. It’s been my home for a long time. Besides, I’ll need separation from you. That I know.”

  His lips twisted and I couldn’t tell if he was getting bored, angry or having fun. Probably a combination of all three. “Buck ten and you move to an apartment I own in Georgetown.”

  “Ninety and I stay here.” I crossed my arms and tried to give him my best attempt at a serious face.

  His brown eyes twinkled with mischief. “Careful, Ms. Jackson. Keep arguing with me and I’ll insist that you live with me for nothing less than one-twenty.”

  I chewed on my nail in front of him, trying to debate what to do. I had no idea what Silas had been up to this past decade, but I very much doubted I had more negotiating experience than him. Even if I agreed to live in one of his buildings, there was nothing forcing me to give up the loft. And at the paycheck he was claiming he’d pay me, I’d have enough to still cover the rent. And if mom never managed to find a place, I could always move her in here to hold her over.

  “Fine,” I said, meeting his intrigued gaze. “Eighty and I move into one of your apartments in Georgetown.”

  He smiled and nodded his head. “Excellent. It’s settled then, a buck even and you’ll live in Georgetown.”

  I shook my head. “Silas, that’s not what we agreed.”

  He gave me a confused look. “Why are you refusing a higher salary?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

  “I don’t want to feel like I owe you anything,” I said proudly. “One hundred grand to be an Executive Assistant—” I started to say, but he cut me off.

  “Is perfectly reasonable in Washington, D.C. I know paralegals that make that and don’t do half the work. Honestly, Skyler. Stop devaluing yourself.”

  I bit my lower lip and folded my legs under me. Silas’ eyes darted to my inner thigh and before I had a chance to ream him for it, he spoke.

  “It looks like even your wardrobe has seen better days.” He cocked his head towards the rip in my leggings and I curled in on myself further. “And patterned leggings went out of fashion around the same time people stopped wearing LIVESTRONG bracelets. It might be time for an update.”

  I glared at him and stayed silent. I wasn’t going to respond to his taunting.

  He shrugged off my mood and stood. “Take the money, Skyler. Consider it a signing bonus.”

  I pursed my lips but made the smallest of nods. Another victory for Silas over me. The score was heavily one-sided at this point.

  “Well, I’m glad we got that settled,” he said, standing up. I followed him with my eyes as he made his way to the door. “Be at the address on my card at nine tomorrow morning.”

  My eyes widened. “On a Saturday?”

  “Problem?”

  I blinked my eyes a few times. I don’t know why I assumed working for Silas would be like a normal office job. “Uh, no. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” The words were heavy but I forced them out.

  “Good night, Skyler,” he said, turning to leave before I had a chance to respond.

  * * *

  Skyler continued to surprise me. I’d thought for sure she was going to call at the eleventh hour on Friday and tell me to fuck off. It’s why I’d been hanging out in her parking lot last night like a freaking psycho stalker. Because when she made that call, I wanted to be able to convince her she’d made a mistake in person.

  But she’d agreed. And she’d even fucking agreed to move to Georgetown. I’m a persistent bastard, but I really thought she’d dig in on that. I couldn’t tell if she was the same old Skyler I knew from a decade ago, or if she’d changed. Just when I thought I had her figured out, she went and did something to throw my conclusion in the air.

  She’s the only woman I’d ever had to work at, then and now. I’m not sure what it said about me that I kept coming back for more.

  I took a sip of whiskey-spiked coffee and flipped the page to the Financial Times. I was a total hipster about still ordering a paper. I looked up at the clock above the sink and began a sixty second countdown in my head. If she was anything like she’d been in high school, she was going to run late. And I was going to have a bit of fun before lunch. I’d even had the dogwalker take King out because I didn’t want him interfering. He was pretty senior these days but I had no doubt he’d remember Skyler.

  Five minutes after the appointed time, the elevator finally opened and a timid “Uh, hello?” rang out in my condo.

  “In here,” I responded sternly.

  I turned towards the foyer to watch Skyler inch her way out of the elevator uncertainly. I smiled internally at her outfit. It wasn’t what I would call “professional,” but it was a good deal better than ripped Christmas leggings in February. She had a pair of navy cropped dress pants on and was wearing a flowy blouse that was so bright it looked like a Teletubby had vomited on it.

  “Are you aware of the time, Ms. Jackson?” I asked, folding the paper. I didn’t look up at her.

  She huffed and turned her wrist over. “It’s not my fault your doorperson wouldn’t let me in.”

  In the back of my mind I knew that was a valid excuse. But I’d already paid the deposit on ruffling her feathers this morning and that bitch was nonrefundable.

  “I don’t need excuses, Ms. Jackson. I need you to be on time. Do we understand each other?” I used that moment to look at her. Her pale lips had been smeared with a bright red gloss and they were currently pursed together in a way that made me want to bite the lower one and hear her gasp. “Use your words,” I said when she failed to respond.

  “Yeah. Okay,” she snapped and I raised an eyebrow. She was going to be a handful, that was for sure.

  I nodded curtly. “Good. I’m glad we understand one another.” I folded the newspaper and walked over to her. I smirked as I saw her eyes dart up and down my body. Try as she might, and she was trying hard, I could see the want in her eyes. My goal was to turn that into a need, hopefully without too much effort.

  “Shall we?” I asked, breezing past her and pressing the elevator button. I could see her try and peer in further to my apartment, surprised that we were leaving already. “Were you expecting a tour?” I asked with a sly smile.

  She blushed, the pink staining her cheeks against her pale complexion beautifully. “No!” she said all too quickly. “Where are we going?”

  The elevator chimed and we both stepped inside. Her lilac and vanilla scent filled the space quickly and I clenched and unclenched the fist in my pocket to try and distract myself. This is why I generally didn’t play games with women I had a history with. Because I was in danger of getting caught up myself.

  “I’m going to show you your new place.”

  “Oh,” she said, surprise coating her voice. “I didn’t realize you had it set up already.”

  The doors opened and we made our way through the lobby. “Morning sweetheart,” I said with a wink to the receptionist as we made our way out the door. I didn’t hang around for her response.

  “Do we need to take the Metro?” Skyler asked, which was
a laughable question.

  “I don’t take the Metro, Skyler,” I said, looking left and then right at the street in front of us. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her make a face and I added, “and now, neither do you.”

  She huffed. She was exceptionally good at it. “How do you expect me to get around, Silas?”

  “Come on,” I said, indicating for her to follow me across the road. “Take a cab and expense it.” When we made it to the other side, I opened the door to the building in front of us and she furrowed her brow, giving me a confused and slightly pissed off look.

  “Silas,” she said slowly, not walking through the door. I shrugged and walked inside, letting the large pane of glass close behind me. She caught it at the last moment, slipping in and quickening her step to catch up to me. “Where are we going?”

  “I told you, to your new place.”

  Her eyes widened. “I told you I didn’t want to live—”

  “Under me. Yes, I do recall the specific phrase you used. Noted. You’ll be living beside me.” We stopped in front of the elevators and I pressed the button, my exterior as calm as ever. I knew she’d be pissed about this. But she’d agreed to live in an apartment in Georgetown. And I just so happened to own the top floor of the building next to mine because, quite frankly, I didn’t like the idea of anyone being able to peer into my apartment. So, I’d decided not to sell that particular unit.

  I suppose I should have wondered more about why I was okay with Skyler living next to me. But I rationalized it away that Skyler wasn’t some stranger.

  The elevator opened and I stepped inside, not waiting for my bratty assistant to follow. The doors began to close and she yelped and slipped inside for a second time. I pressed the button for the top floor and glanced at her.

  “You know, when you open and close your mouth like that, you look like a fish out of water,” I chuckled.

  She shut her jaw with a click and crossed her arms over her chest. “This wasn’t what we agreed.”

  I laughed. “Oh yes. Yes it was. Just say thank you, Ms. Jackson. If you fight me on every single thing, our working relationship is going to suffer.”