Resisting the CEO: Office Second Chance Romance (Dirty Hot Resistance Series Book 2)

by Emelia Blair

  Resisting the CEO

  Office Second Chance Romance

  Emelia Blair

  Copyright © 2020 by Emelia Blair

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Caleb

  2. Kendall

  3. Caleb

  4. Kendall

  5. Caleb

  6. Kendall

  7. Caleb

  8. Kendall

  9. Caleb

  10. Kendall

  11. Caleb

  12. Kendall

  13. Caleb

  14. Kendall

  15. Caleb

  16. Kendall

  17. Caleb

  18. Kendall

  19. Caleb

  Epilogue

  1

  Caleb

  “Are you serious about this?” Lana rifles through the papers on the desk. “There are better applicants out there.”

  I meet her gaze, evenly. “I’m aware. She’ll learn what she has to.”

  Lana, with her dark hair and green eyes, persists, “But why her?”

  This is starting to get annoying. “Don’t you have to start packing for your honeymoon?” I ask rudely.

  She brushes off my attempts to get rid of her with another question, “She’s from some small-scale school, Caleb. She doesn’t even have proper credentials and you want her for this job?”

  There’s a note of derision in her voice that I don’t take to kindly. My frown grows and my voice is slightly cold as I reply, “Considering she’ll be working for me, she’s not your problem.”

  Lana scowls now, a thunderous look on her pretty features that usually intimidates people, but not me. “It is my problem if the only reason you’re hiring this girl is to sleep with her!”

  I purse my lips, studying the woman before me with a narrow-eyed glare. “Do I look like someone who would hire a woman to simply sleep with her? Have I ever done something to portray such an intent? Or am I so lacking in female companionship that this is what I would resort to?”

  Lana falters with a, “N-No.”

  “Then, you have no grounds for such accusations,” I cut her off, coldly. “Go make the call, Lana.”

  Lana hesitates, and then asks me, her tone softer, probing, as her eyes search mine, “Who is she, really?”

  “Someone I’m responsible for.” My gaze doesn’t waver.

  She swallows her annoyance, before walking away, knowing she has pushed me enough for one day.

  I watch her leave, feeling a certain numbness inside of me. Once the door closes behind her, I swivel in my chair, my thoughts running a mile an hour. Oliver, the Crisis CEO that I had hired a few months ago, has done a fantastic job of turning things around here. But there is still work to be done. But before all that work, there’s something else that takes precedence.

  I open one of the cabinets of the desk and draw out a large dossier that for the past few years ‒ ever since my release from prison ‒ has been empty. Opening it, I stare at the picture of a young, unsmiling woman.

  “Damon took my bear, Caleb.” She lets out a child’s whimper, filled with despair. “He said he’d tear off its head if I tell anyone.”

  A pair of arms wrapped around my torso, “I love you forever and ever and ever.” Pretty eyes filled with happiness as they gaze up at me, adoringly. “You’ll never leave me, right?”

  “Never,” I say aloud as I run my finger over the picture, a strange emotion rolling over me. “Now that I’ve finally found you, I’ll never let you go.”

  The words may have sounded ominous to someone standing in the room, but to me they’re the answer to a promise made more than seventeen years ago.

  I flip through the other documents in the file, studying the resume with a casual interest. It is simply a piece of paper that holds no meaning for to me. It could have been empty as far as I’m concerned. What interests me is the information that I’ve gathered over these past few months.

  Housing, bills, debt.

  Hearing the door to my office open, I glance up and close the dossier. “Oliver.”

  Oliver is a tall man with sandy brown hair, blue eyes and Lana’s new husband. He’s also a senior consultant at Starr Enterprises. “What the fuck did you say to my wife? She looks ready to bite my head off.” Oliver folds himself into the chair across from me, scowling, his British accent somehow taking the bite out of his words.

  “I told her to mind her own business,” I reply, calmly, not surprised to see him ready to defend the woman he adored. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought your new business was keeping you busy.”

  Oliver’s also started his own consultancy firm which has already amassed gathered clients before it had even started up. He’s a busy man but organized enough to not neglect his duties here. “Lucas showed up for lunch and I don’t even know how I got here,” he grumbles.

  I’ve seen him at social events where he’s all blunt charm but here, he’s as surly as a bear. Probably why I enjoy his company. He’s calculating, sharp and yet, honest to a fault. “Did you bring me something?” I look up in interest, suddenly reminded that I’ve missed lunch.

  “What am I, your secretary? Get your own damn food.” Oliver bares his teeth at me.

  I reach out and call Lucas’ line.

  When he answers, I demand, “Did you bring me something from lunch?”

  Oliver rolls his eyes at me but stretches his legs out, intent on getting comfortable.

  Two minutes later, Lucas walks in, a half-eaten bagel in his hand.

  I give him a pointed look.

  The company lawyer shrugs. “I got hungry on the way. Don’t worry though. I ordered you something. Elise will let the guy up.”

  “Then, why’re you here?” I frown.

  Lucas takes the seat next to Oliver.

  “That was not an invitation for you to sit,” I state.

  Lucas chews thoughtfully, before saying, “Lana looks mad. I just ran into her on my way here. She told me to tell you that your head is stuck up your ass and you’re a little bitch.”

  “She said all of that?” I study him blandly.

  Lucas shrugs, once again, unrepentantly. “I added the last part, but it was in her eyes.”

  “Amusing,” I respond with a deadpan expression. “Now, what do you two want?”

  “Information.” Lucas raises a brow, an effect that s lost on me due to the cream cheese sticking on the side of his chin.

  “About what?” I ask, reaching out for some papers. “I’m a busy man.”

  “He’s lying,” Oliver says with a malicious look. He glances at Lucas. “He’s lying. I know for a fact that all his paperwork is done for this week.”

  I wonder if it’s possible to ban my top consultant and my lawyer from the building.

  “There are four ladies in the lobby and yet, Lana says you’re set on only one of them to be your PA. Why?” Lucas’ eyes gleam with interest.

  I lean forward.

  He instinctively shifts towards me, believing that I must be about to impart the truth.

  “None of your fucking business,” I say. The words are said with a faint smile.

  Lucas looks irritable. “You know we’ll find out, eventually.”

  I smirk. “As
long as you steer clear of her, I don’t care.”

  Oliver studies me with an intent look, his calculating mind probably drawing conclusions. He finally says, “You know her.”

  I choose not to dignify that with a response.

  So he continues slowly, “You know her but she doesn’t know you, does she? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be going through this whole charade of interviews.”

  My intercom buzzes and a male voice says, “Mr. Starr, Miss Renald is here for the job interview.”

  My eyes don’t leave Oliver’s as I arch a brow, arrogantly. “I think it’s time you ladies left.”

  Three interviews later, I fix my tie and smooth my hair out, anticipating the arrival of the final candidate, the one I intend to hire. My hand reaches for the polished stone in my pocket and I roll it between my fingers, idly, a force of habit now.

  “Mr. Starr, should I let Miss West in?”

  I release the stone. “Yes.” I turn to face the window, not sure whether she would recognize me or not.

  The clicking of heels on the marble tiles and a hesitant voice that has only grown so much sweeter over the years says, “Mr. Starr?”

  I close my eyes, feeling the sense of familiar wash over me and have to school my features lest I betray the thrumming of anticipation in my chest.

  Will she recognize me?

  The thought circles in my mind as I turn around, slowly. “Miss West.”

  Kendall West looks even lovelier in person than she did in her photograph. That ashen hair of hers, which has always set her apart, is longer, reaching the dip of her waist, tied into a neat braid. Her caramel skin along with her hazel eyes with specks of gold in them, now on the face of an adult woman are so striking that I have to force myself to organize my train of thought, not having prepared to be faced with this.

  She’s beautiful.

  And she has no idea who I am.

  The lack of recognition in her eyes shouldn’t have hurt as much as it does but I swallow the bitter taste and gesture with my hand. “Take a seat.”

  She’s wearing a faded pencil skirt and a navy-blue blouse someone has clearly spent hours scrubbing the stains out of. The blazer covering the slim set of shoulders has clearly been worn to hide the large protruding stain on the back, a part of which is still visible from where I sit, and the blazer itself is a size larger.

  She has borrowed her clothes, and something churns in my gut, a dissatisfaction that she doesn’t even own something decent to wear to an interview while I’m drowning in wealth.

  Well, that’s going to change.

  When she leaves the office today, she’ll have more than enough resources at her fingertips. I plan to make sure of that.

  Kendall is clutching onto a slim file, so tightly that her knuckles are white.

  I give her a few seconds to settle herself and I watch her, taking in the way she’s fretting over her lower lip. It amuses me to see she hasn’t gotten out of this habit.

  “I…” she starts and fades off, before suddenly thrusting the thin file at me, nearly smacking me with it. “My resume!”

  She looks so nervous that I feel the urge to soothe her and my tone is uncharacteristically gentle as I take the file from her, while lying easily, “Thank you. I needed this. I seem to have misplaced the one I had.”

  The relief on her face is paramount at doing at least one thing right.

  I pretend to look through the resume as if I don’t already have it memorized, and then ask, “How did you hear about this job opening?”

  Kendall blinks, and to my surprise, the prospect of answering a question actually steadies her, and I can’t help the rush of pride as she sits up straighter. “I got a call from the job center I sent my resume to. They said they accidentally sent my resume among some others and your HR department got in touch with them.”

  Well, that is the official story anyway, I muse, hiding my smirk. “Do you have any experience working as a private assistant?” I ask, trying to keep the questions relevant.

  Kendall nods so enthusiastically that her braid spills over her shoulder, strands of unique colored hair glinting under the beam of abandoned sunlight streaking in from the floor-to-ceiling window behind me. “I was a secretary for six months at Flour Industries.”

  Now, I glance at her resume, curious. “You’ve not listed it here.”

  She swallows.

  I can see the way she reaches for her ear, her one tell for when she’s about to lie. I watch her with vivid interest.

  “It was a few months and I had to leave due to a two-hour commute.”

  I know where Flour Industries is. I also know that it’s fifteen minutes from her house by subway. However, there is plenty of time to get her to spill her secrets to me. “Did you like the work?”

  There is hesitance on her face which she’s struggling to hide. “The work wasn’t that much. I mostly handled all correspondence, had a sound knowledge of the contracts going in and out, arranged his meetings.”

  I actually hadn’t even been expecting that much from her but it pleases me to know that she knows most of how this arrangement works. I have never needed a PA before. Duke, my butler/friend/ex-con roommate usually handles all these details for me.

  “Do you know how to work a coffee machine?” I ask lightly.

  Now, Kendall’s face flushes. “No, but I can learn.”

  I make a considering sound and lean back in my chair, before drawling, my eyes on hers, “The thing is, Miss West, out of all the candidates, I feel you might be a good fit for me. But there are certain expectations that I have, ones I expect you to fulfill.”

  Kendall pales and I wonder at that, before saying smoothly, “My PA goes where I go. If I’m in the city, that’s fine. But if I’m traveling, they go with me. There is a required dress code. If I hire you, you will be, in essence, representing me. I expect you to be wearing your new status.”

  Kendall’s thin hand clenches into a fist on her lap.

  I continue, “Your living quarters will also have to be closer to mine. Your job never ends. I can ask you to be available at three in the morning and I expect you to be there, thunder or hail.”

  “I don’t…” she stammers out, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I don’t have—”

  “—Because this is such a demanding job,” I cut her off, smoothly. And it’s ridiculous to uproot you without compensating you, your wardrobe and your living quarters will be part of the contract. I’m a fair man but I’m in need of an efficient assistant. Your salary will also be quite handsome.” I name a figure that has her gasping and I feel a thrill of pleasure run through me at the stunned look on her face.

  She swallows, fails, and then tries again, croaking, “Are you – Are you offering me the job?”

  I feel surprised. “Well, of course. I did just say you best suit me.”

  “I…” Her eyes look wet as she tries to speak.

  My chest tightens uncomfortably at her expression.

  She lowers her gaze and clears her throat. “Are you sure?”

  Now, this response does surprise me. “Of course, I am,” I say shortly.

  “Oh…” She sounds faint. “I – when do I start?”

  I study her intently. “Your apartment will be ready to move into at the end of the month. You will receive a letter in the evening, including the contract. Hand in the signed contract tomorrow. Ask for Lana Hill. You’ll be given a company card with a limit of two hundred thousand. You’re to shop for your clothes in the meantime. Officially, I want you to start in three days.”

  The look on her face is disbelieving and warily hopeful, as if somebody who’s had her dreams crushed a thousand times and doesn’t trust something good being handed to her.

  You’ve suffered enough, I muse. Now, it’s my turn to take care of you.

  Kendall blinks rapidly, repeating, “Three days. I’ll be here.”

  I don’t want her to leave but if she doesn’t know who I am yet, then it gives me ample amount
of time to endear myself to her so deeply that when she does find out, she can’t leave.

  Regretfully, that means I have to act as her boss, and nothing more, for now.

  I give her a curt nod, and she understands she’s being dismissed.

  A glance at the wall clock tells me that this all took place in under fifteen minutes and I feel displeased. I could have drawn it out.

  However, as I watch her stagger out, a tendril of dark possessiveness curls around me.

  If I have it my way, Kendall West will never want for anything… ever in her life.

  2

  Kendall

  It feels like my whole life has been turned upside down.

  I stand in the metal elevator, my thoughts wild, and I try not to break down into tears of relief. The pang of hunger in my stomach is ignored.

  Seven jobs.

  I had been turned away from seven jobs, being told I didn’t have the necessary qualifications, or that they had better applicants. And now, this CEO, Caleb Starr, the man who has singlehandedly taken over multiple businesses, a mysterious man who walked in a few years ago and gripped the business world by the throat, has tossed me the job of a lifetime.

  Me.

  The girl who is definitely the least qualified person to be working as his PA. The other women in the lobby, waiting with me, had been dressed smartly, their hair coiffed, polite expressions on their faces, women with degrees from Harvard and Yale. Women, who made me look almost shabby in comparison. Caleb Starr chose me over all of them.

  And I still couldn’t process that.

  The elevator dinged and I stumbled out, trying to wrap my head around my sudden good fortune.

  “Oh, dear, are you okay?”

  On hearing the concerned voice, I realize that I’m leaning against the wall.