by Emelia Blair
“Nearly ten years now.” I open the box that has the cutlery. “You can just start calling her Tracy. Especially since you’re eating with us.”
He sidesteps my statement with a question, “How did you two meet?”
I pause momentarily, memories flooding me, and I smile. “She was sent to the orphanage when she was seventeen. We just became friends.”
“I see.”
I glance up only to see him watching me with that odd gaze as if he wants to say something but something’s holding him back. I often find him looking at me like that, but I usually ignore it.
But today… a lot has happened today.
I lean back on my heels and study him for a few seconds before asking with a sigh, “What are you doing, Mr. Starr?”
He blinks at me. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“This…” I gesture around widely. “You’re supposed to be at a gala today. I RSVP-ed for you. And yet you’re here, in your assistant’s home, you’re bringing us pizza, you punched out my landlord—”
“—Ex-landlord,” my boss corrects tersely. “I’m your new landlord now.”
There’s something meaningful in the way he says it, but I can’t put my finger on it. I give a dismissive wave of my hand. “You know what I mean.” I give him a hard look. “I’m grateful for this job but do you treat all your assistants like this?”
Caleb gazes at me through half-lidded eyes. “I find you interesting.”
I grit my teeth at him, his words taking on a whole new meaning for me. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
He smiles now, a secretive curving of the lips as he murmurs, “You will.”
7
Caleb
“An article?” I steeple my fingers together and lean forward, watching Kendall as she stands across from me. “I don’t have the time.”
She’s looking lovely in that maroon blouse and black shirt, her hair tied in a high ponytail.
I want to run my fingers through the strands.
She stares at me, her hazel eyes steady. “This will be the fifth time this month I’ll be turning them away. It’s just an interview and the Heiman’s Charity Ball coming up, they’re very insistent. The Board of Directors also wants me to tell you to agree to this.”
“Since when does the Board go to you for these requests?” I ask, irritably, unlocking my fingers from under my chin and tapping on the wooden desk.
“Since they think throwing me in the lion’s den is much more preferable than getting their heads bitten off by you,” Kendall says calmly, her expression not even flickering.
Considering that I saw her shouting at Duke last night over the game, this composure almost makes me want to grin. “Do you see me as a lion?” I ask my assistant of three months.
“No.”
“What do you see me as?” I ask, curiously.
She gives me a sharp smile and carefully flicks of imaginary lint from her skirt, her tone ever so polite. “I’d rather not say for fear of losing my job.”
Kendall has become more confident since working here, having shed the persona she had come in with, that of a meek person. However, there is something always lurking behind her eyes. Since Lana’s return from her honeymoon, my HR Head has given Kendall a wide berth, ever since she and I exchanged words.
She doesn’t know Kendall and I have no desire to have my cover blown.
Not yet.
Kendall hasn’t had another panic attack since the day she signed the contract and that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about. She’s settled in quite nicely in her new apartment and her odd love-hate relationship with Duke is something I don’t hesitate to use.
She enjoys watching football and she and my Chauffer/friend like to watch the games together. However, since Duke usually prefers my big screen, Kendall sometimes ends up in my penthouse when a big game is on.
It’s always interesting to watch the two squabble like children over it.
Duke’s presence also brings Tracy and Max accompanies his mother.
Since the season is ongoing, my place is quite noisy on the weekends.
Oddly enough, I quite like it.
But while Kendall has acquiesced to treat me like a neighbor at home, she is nothing short of professional in the workplace.
“Either way, I don’t want to do an interview. I’m busy,” I say, reaching out to pick up a file.
“You have a two-hour slot tomorrow which is free.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m not doing the interview.”
“The board says you have to. Take it up with them.” Kendall doesn’t look bothered.
“Also, I need to confirm your plus one to the Heiman’s Ball.” She looks at me patiently.
For the past two months, ever since she moved into my building, I have tried to flirt with her, get under her skin, make sure she’s aware of my interest in her, but Kendall has shut me down at every turn. It’s not like she isn’t interested. I’ve seen the look in her eyes when she’s watching me sometimes, thinking I’m unaware, the heat in them. But she crushes her response to me under the heel of her shoe, determined to not let anything get in the way of this job.
And while I admire her for it, I need her to be wrapped up in me, in such emotional depth that when I finally reveal who I am, she’s unable to walk away from me.
So, I just give her an appraising look. “You’re my plus one.”
The pen nearly slips from her fingers as she gapes at me. “Excuse me?”
I give her an innocent look. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Kendall looks both baffled and stunned. “I can’t go with you. You’re expected to show up with a date.”
“And you’ll be my date,” I inform her, pleased by her reaction.
“No.” She lifts a hand facing me, as if to stop me in tracks. “I’m your PA. If I show up in a dress under the guise of date, people will talk.”
Now, I lean back, satisfaction emitting from me. “I’m not going with someone to one of the most interesting events of the year only to be bored to death. I like your company. So, I’ll take you.”
“There’s no changing your mind?” Kendall asks weakly.
“No.” I open the file in front of me and start going through it.
“It’s just a pretend date,” she says, mostly to herself.
I keep my head down, my lips curving at the conviction in her words. “You can tell yourself that if it helps you feel better.”
When she slams the door behind her with a snarl, I chuckle.
Little spitfire.
“So, what, you just told her?” Duke stares at me through the rearview mirror.
We’re driving back from a meeting and I look out the window, my tone dry as I reply, “Well, I wasn’t going to ask her. She’d never have agreed.”
Duke is silent for a few moments as he turns the car around a corner and then he says, “I’ve known you for a long time, man. I’ve had your back since we shared a cell together and I’ve gone along with all your shit, but this, it’s been three months, the longer you delay telling her, the worse her reaction will be.”
“She’s not ready yet,” I murmur. “In her mind, I abandoned her. She won’t stay. And if she does, she’ll pull away from me.”
Duke looks doubtful. “I don’t know, man. In my opinion, pull it off like a band-aid. She’ll come around.”
I chuckle humorously. “You don’t know Kendall, like I do. She’ll cut her nose to spite her face.”
“She doesn’t seem the type.” Duke pulls in front of Starr Enterprises. “But whatever you say. She seems to be warming up to you.”
If keeping me at arm’s length is warming up to me, I muse as I slide out of the car.
Entering the building, I’m not surprised to see Lucas standing there at the reception desk, involved in a discussion with Elise.
“Elise.” I walk over to them, studying the tired-looking woman. “How are you feeling?”
She’s the one friend that Kendall has made in the company and they often have lunch together. Kendall isn’t exactly liked by the female staff, rumors of her cohabitation having flown around. I’m determined to encourage this friendship, giving the woman I love more reason not to leave this firm.
Heavily pregnant, Elise looks wan, but gives me a small smile. “Like I’ll be needing to go on that maternity leave as soon as I can.”
“Stay off your feet,” I tell her firmly, “And whatever you need, you let Lana know.”
Surprised but happy, Elise nods.
Lucas studies me. “I hear you’re taking Kendall to the Heimens Ball.”
Elise’s eyes brighten and she glances in my direction.
I fix the cuff of my jacket. “Yes. We have meetings in the city the next day and I don’t see why she shouldn’t attend. Apparently, she’s getting along well with most of our clients and they’ll be there as well.”
“Is that the only reason?” Lucas fishes for information.
I give him a blunt look. “It’s the official reason. Now keep your nose out of my business and stop harassing my receptionist,” I order curtly, my tone washing over my lawyer’s head.
“Thank you for the bread rolls.” Elise pokes at the inconspicuous looking box sitting on the marble counter, an uncertain smile on her face as she looks at Lucas.
“It was my pleasure.” Lucas smiles at her, genuine happiness on his face.
He follows me to the elevator and as we ride up, I tell him. “You know she’s sworn off men, right? She told Kendall.”
Lucas looks dejected. “She told me too.” Then he brightens up. “But who knows? She might change her mind.”
I drop him off at his floor and give him a hard stare. “Only you would think to use food to win her affection.”
Lucas gives me a sly look. “Like you’re one to talk.”
My eyes narrow but before I can ask him what he means by that, the doors close.
I feel a pang of hunger as I walk into my office and wonder if Kendall has had lunch. She’s worse with her eating habits than I am.
When she first started working here, she would often skip lunch and if I ordered for us, she would only eat half and take the rest home. It was only later that I found out that since she hadn’t been paid her first salary, she and her little family was living hand to mouth. Something that stung me to no end, knowing that even with me, she still saw the need to sacrifice her hunger for the grinning boy she had helped raise and her friend.
Of course, then her salary had been paid in advance, quietly, and I ensured she no longer needed to only eat half of her meals. But she kept forgetting to feed herself.
Not that it matters.
It only gave me more opportunity to do it.
I’m annoyed to see one of my senior finance executives, Jace Hunter, leaning against Kendall’s desk, talking to her.
My eyes narrow into little slits as I take in the cozy little scene with displeasure. More so because this isn’t the first time I’ve caught him here. “Mr. Hunter,” I say loudly. “Is your station too uncomfortable for you? Would you prefer that I ask Lana to provide you with a desk next to Miss West?”
‘Miss West’ gives me a nasty look.
Jace straightens up and has the grace to flush. His dark hair is slicked back.
It makes me wonder how much hair product he goes through per week.
“I was telling Kendall about this funny story about how one of the accountants misspelled fiscal year…” he trails off with a sigh. “And you’re not interested in hearing that.”
Kendall makes a snoring sound before suddenly expressing a fascination with her nails.
Jace glares at her.
She then grins up at him and uses the desk to propel her chair into a swinging motion. “It was the most fascinating story I’ve ever heard. Maybe you could record it for me, Jace. It’ll help with my insomnia.”
It annoys me that she’s so friendly and relaxed with him, bantering with him in a way she never does with me, no matter how much room I allow her.
I hate feeling insecure and that makes my tone harsher. “Don’t you have work to do Mr. Hunter? And you’re supposed to be working on a report for me, Miss West.”
Kendall presses her lips into a thin line and her spine is stiff as a rod when she says, “It’s on your desk and I’m taking a lunch break.”
Her voice is cold, making me wince internally.
“That was mentioned in my contract, no? Or is there a slave clause that I’m unaware of?”
Jace glances at her and then throws me a look. “I actually came to talk to you. I was just waiting.”
Feeling guilty over my tone with Kendall, I push open the door. “Fine, come in.” However, I realize I’m still mad at Kendall being so friendly with a man when she can’t spare me more than a wary glance or flash of temper. I look over my shoulder, saying nastily, “If you’re quite done with your lunch break, I could use a coffee. Or I can make an amendment for that slave clause in your contract.”
From the flare of anger in her eyes, I have a feeling she’s more inclined to pour scalding coffee over my shirt at this point.
“I’ll get you a coffee, all right,” she mutters.
I silently muse whether I should be worried. I close the door behind us. “How can I help you, Mr. Hunter?”
And please give me an excuse to fire your ass while you’re at it.
Jace takes a seat across from me. “One of the clients that I’m working with wants to implement a more technical aspect to the project.” His tone is more businesslike now. “I can work with Excel and R programming but the kind of work he needs to be done, I don’t have that expertise or skillset. The client suggested that he outsource that aspect to one of our competitors.”
My eyes narrow at this. “You should be discussing this with your HOD, not the CEO.”
Jace scowls at me. “The recent cleaning of my department has people not very happy with me and Hashem doesn’t want to cooperate on anything.” He looks frustrated as he gets up and starts pacing. “I need a technical person on board with me, but my request is being denied.”
I tap my fingers on the desk, impatiently. “And what, you came running to tattle to me?”
Jace stiffens. “The Bernard account is one of the biggest accounts this company has. We lose it, it’s going to have a detrimental effect on our share price.” He stares at me. “Yes, Mr. Starr, I went to business school, too.”
I study him now, taking his words into consideration. “If we let one of our competitors sink their teeth into any part of this client, they’ll take the whole project from us. We’ll lose the entire account.”
“Exactly!” Jace finally looks relieved that we’re on the same page.
“You want me to approve a programming expert to work with you? You’re not bothered about how this will seem to your colleagues? Hashem won’t like it.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Hashem and his desire to control everything.” Jace looks vaguely annoyed now. “I’ve worked on this account for a few years now. If Hashem had it his way, he’d take this from me, just to prove that he can.” Jace walks over now, slamming his hands on my desk, growling, “I’m not tattling on my boss, Mr. Starr. But I know when I’m fighting a losing battle and all my attempts at explaining the urgency of this decision have been deliberately waved off. If I were to lose this account, I will not only be blamed but fired.” He straightens up and gives me a calm look. “Please, let me know your decision by the end of the week. Because if I have to leave this firm, it’s going to be on my terms.”
I admire the spark in him, the mixture of hot headedness and cool calculation.
Still wish I can fire him though, I grumble to myself. But the man is an asset. I’ve been through Jace Hunter’s files and I’m not going to let him slip away to some competitor. “I’ll consider it, Mr. Hunter.”
Jace fixes his tie and nods. “Thanks.”
“I haven’t ag
reed to it, yet,” I say warningly.
He grins at me, a shockingly, boyish look. “But you’ll think about it.” He starts to leave and then looks over his shoulder, his hand on the doorknob, a strange look on his face as he says, “I’m not encroaching on your territory.” He glances meaningfully towards the blurred figure of Kendall outside.
I give him a steady look, choosing not to respond, as he opens the door and leaves.
I hear a brief murmur of voices outside.
Kendall walks in with a cup of coffee. She gives me a polite look that borders on hostile and carefully places the cup and saucer before me.
I stare at her and then the coffee and then back at her again.
“What?” she asks, irritation in her tone. “I didn’t poison it.”
But she looks too gleeful for my comfort and I know she’s done something to the liquid. I warily study the cup, before lifting it to my lips and taking a sip. The bitterness is so heavy on my tongue that I nearly gag.
She watches me with sadistic satisfaction. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. We ran out of sugar just now.”
I watch her prance out, and growling, I push the cup away.
I know I had it coming, I concede silently.
8
Kendall
Giving Caleb a cold shoulder for the next few days wouldn’t be a hardship if he didn’t sulk like a child.
I have a feeling that no one would believe me if I told them that. The boss they fear and respect so much just threw a temper tantrum and broke his fifth phone in these past two weeks.
“I’m getting you an android if you insist on breaking every phone I give you,” I scowl as I scribble something furiously on the notepad in my hand.
Caleb glowers at me. “Get me the same model.”
I wish I could tell him to go fuck off.
“You have an interview at two, today,” I tell him, placing a new phone on his desk. “Try not to break this one before the day ends. Also, Miss Hill wants to meet you regarding an expense report.”