In the Eye of the Storm / Catering to the CEO

by Samantha Chase

  Sighing with her decision, she relaxed into her seat and almost missed what was coming up ahead of her. The road was blocked. In the fierceness of the storm, a tree—or perhaps several—had fallen across the road. She could easily turn around on the street, but there was no way out on the other end.

  “This cannot be happening,” she heard herself moan. “For crying out loud, I decided to get the heck out of Dodge, and now I have to go back?” She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to wail. “Why is the universe against me?”

  With no alternative, Holly turned the car around and headed back in the direction she had come. She pulled back into the long winding driveway and as close to the front door as humanly possible—this time making sure that the driver’s side was facing the front door from the circular drive.

  Pulling her blasted hood back over her head, she was about to climb out when she remembered that she had a gym bag in the back seat. It had sat and mocked her for weeks because she never did get to the gym, but now she could almost kiss it! She would have clean clothes at least.

  Grabbing her bag, she hopped out of the car, ran up to the front door, and rang the bell. Stephen opened the door, one hand on the doorknob, the other holding his phone, his expression shocked.

  “Are you up for a roommate for one more night?”

  Chapter 3

  Stephen stood rooted to the spot, thinking that clearly he had conjured her up in his imagination. She’d only been gone five minutes, but it seemed much longer. When he noticed her raised eyebrows, he snapped out of his reverie and stepped aside to let her in. “Sure, no problem. What made you change your mind?”

  Holly toed off her wet sneakers once again and placed her gym bag beside them. “There are several trees down across the road. I couldn’t get out of the subdivision.”

  “Oh, well,” he began as he closed the door, “the storm must have taken a phone line down, too, because I don’t have a dial tone.” He gestured to the cordless phone in his hand as if he needed to give her a visual aid.

  “Have you tried your cell?”

  “Not yet. I had just found out about the house phone when you knocked on the door. Come on in.” He waved his arm in a sweeping motion as if to gesture for her to precede him farther into the house. Holly headed back toward the kitchen.

  Without conscious thought, she started another pot of coffee before sitting down at the table and looking at Stephen like “now what?” He put the cordless phone back on its cradle and then went in search of his cell phone. Holly chuckled because during the day at the office, his cell phone was practically strapped to him or he used his Bluetooth.

  Taking the time to look around the place, Holly couldn’t believe that she had missed how spectacular the room was. Cherrywood cabinets that went to the high ceiling, glass doors, stainless-steel appliances, granite countertops as far as the eye could see except on the butcher block–covered center island—it was a chef’s dream! She smiled at how her family would have loved to have this much space in their kitchen while she was growing up. The view of the property from the bay window was amazing; there was a large, multilevel deck right outside with the largest grill she’d ever seen! One whole wall of the kitchen contained a stone fireplace that separated it from the living room. Walking around the wall, she found that the fireplace opened on both sides. How lovely.

  She was about to turn back into the kitchen when Stephen came down the stairs, cell phone in hand. “Any luck?”

  “I’ve got service. Not great service, but at least something. I tried calling Will, and it went directly to voicemail. I’m going to try Derek next. Make yourself at home while I make this call.”

  Holly cringed. The last thing she wanted to do was hear what was being said about her or perhaps have to bear witness to an argument. Stephen walked away from her and down a short hallway. Holly heard a door close and breathed a sigh of relief. Wandering back to the kitchen, she noticed that the coffee was ready and poured them each a cup.

  Taking a quick peek back down the hall, she saw that the door was still closed and decided to investigate the kitchen. If she was going to be here for any extended period of time, she was definitely going to cook something in this kitchen! Holly opened cabinets and was thrilled to find high-quality cookware that included everything a person would need to cook a feast. Turning to the pantry, she was surprised to find it similarly well stocked. If the man couldn’t cook anything besides breakfast, why have so much food on hand?

  But the most pleasant surprise came when she went to the refrigerator in search of cream for her coffee and found it fully stocked as well—fresh produce and cold cuts, colas, wines…she would have no trouble cooking here. Opening the freezer side, she found a wide variety of meats and quite the stockpile of casserole dishes. She pulled out a few, read the labels, and knew they wouldn’t starve.

  “My housekeeper does all the shopping and then takes pity on me and cooks so that I have some ‘real food,’ as she puts it,” Stephen said from the doorway, startling her.

  “I’m sorry, I was—”

  “Being nosy?” he joked. “It’s okay. But if you’re hungry, please help yourself to anything.”

  She laughed out loud. “Hungry? You made me a breakfast that could have fed a lumberjack! I don’t know if I’ll be hungry for the rest of the day!” She let her laughter die off and waited before asking about the phone call. “Any luck with Derek?”

  The fact that he started with a sigh could have meant a few things. Holly was hoping it meant that he didn’t get through. When he walked across the kitchen, grabbing his coffee that she motioned to along the way, she knew that he had. “Yeah, I talked to Derek.”

  “Was Will okay?” she asked worriedly.

  “Yes, he’s fine. He had come to by the time Derek got him to the car. He’s got a black eye and possibly a broken nose.” He muttered a curse. “What the hell were we thinking?” He looked at Holly and then down at the mug in his hand. “Derek apologized for razzing me and provoking me, and I apologized for being the first to throw a punch.” He took a sip of his hot beverage. “How did it get so out of hand? I mean, we’re fairly civilized grown men, and we were in a dirty roadside bar, brawling like teenagers!”

  Holly stood leaning against the center island, sipping her own coffee and listening. She knew he wasn’t really asking her the question; he was truly perplexed about what had transpired and was trying to work it all out.

  “Derek and I both agreed that we had no idea what made us behave like that. Apparently Will isn’t speaking to either of us, and I can’t say I blame him. I’m thirty-two years old, for crying out loud. I haven’t been in a brawl since I was seventeen!”

  “Maybe you were all a little on edge over different things, and though it does seem a little weird that you’d all blow at the same time, it’s not unheard of,” Holly offered. “You have been working a lot lately to get the Gideon project prepped and ready. Maybe you’re under more stress than you think. You never do take any time off for yourself, and I know for a fact that you have not taken more than a weekend off since I came to work for you.”

  “It hasn’t been that long, has it?” Stephen denied, but it didn’t take long before he realized she was right. “Well, I’ve been working to build this company up. When things get to a level I’m happy with, I’ll take time off.”

  “Will you?” she challenged. “Because I don’t believe you. I don’t think you’ll ever get to that place where you have reached a level that you’re happy with. You’ll always be striving for something more, one more project, a bigger client, newer technology… Face it, Stephen, you are a workaholic.”

  He grimaced at the word. His father had been a major workaholic and was never at home. He died young and left Stephen and his mother with nothing much to show for all his work. All the hours that the elder Ballinger spent away from his family had amounted to nothing. For years
after his father’s death, Stephen’s mother had worked day and night to make ends meet.

  Stephen swore he would not repeat his father’s mistakes. He loved his work, and he was good at it, and so he knew that this was the path his life was to take. That was why Stephen avoided getting too deeply involved with anyone or thinking about marriage. He was married to his work. He grew up witnessing that you could not put energy into having both; his father had shown him that. Stephen knew he was successful at what he did, but it took all his time and energy. He glanced over at Holly and knew that she was a large part of why his company had achieved so much in the past three years.

  An idea began to form in his mind. Maybe it was time that he leaned back a little and lived. If he could convince Holly to stay and take his promises seriously and cut her hours, he’d have to cut his own. He simply couldn’t work without her.

  As much as he still wanted to tackle that discussion, Stephen knew how to negotiate a deal. Holly was going to be there with him for the entire weekend. He’d have to force himself not to bring up work or the Gideon project—though he had a million things to do for it that he had planned to tackle this weekend—and focus on getting to know her. Once he knew what made Holly tick and became that “friend” they’d talked about the previous night, he was confident that he would be able to convince her to stay on as his personal assistant.

  He smiled at his own genius.

  Sensing that Stephen no longer wanted to talk about last night—and, quite truthfully, neither did she—Holly switched topics as she walked over to the window. “I cannot believe how hard it is raining! I couldn’t see beyond the nose of the car. I’m kind of relieved not to be out in this. Who knows how many other trees have fallen between here and my house and how many detours I’d have had to take.” She turned and smiled over her shoulder. “You’re sure you don’t mind if I stay?”

  He returned her smile easily. “If memory serves, and I believe it does, I was the one who told you not to leave in the first place. You were the one running for the door. I’m glad you didn’t have to be out in this for more than an eighth of a mile!”

  Sitting back down across from him at the table, she chatted with him about the weather, current events, nothing of any particular importance. They were comfortable with one another, and Holly told herself that it was nice to talk about something other than work with him.

  “Tell me about this house,” she prompted. “I mean, from what I’ve seen of it, it is magnificent. This kitchen is a fantasy!”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it described that way.” He chuckled. “I’m still getting used to it. It’s weird to have bought a place this size already furnished, but everything was made for this house, so I couldn’t imagine bringing any of my things from the other house here.” Remembering that Holly had decorated the last house, he made sure to explain himself. “The other stuff was beautiful, don’t get me wrong…”

  “Uh-huh…”

  “But you have to admit that the other place was a bit more contemporary than this one.” She nodded in agreement, but she didn’t like the fact that after all her hard work on making the other house a home, he not only didn’t take anything with him, but he purchased this house completely furnished.

  “You have excellent taste, Holly, and I loved what you did with the condo, but this house is so…different. This is the house I always dreamed of.” He sighed. Holly never thought she’d live to see the day that Mr. Business-Ballinger would sigh when describing something as personal as his home. This was a whole new side to him that was both attractive and a little unnerving. “Care for a tour?”

  There wasn’t anything else to do, and she was curious, so she agreed. “Sure.”

  For the next hour, they toured the 10,000-square-foot home. It was much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside. Besides the six bedrooms and eight bathrooms, Stephen had a state-of-the-art office that rivaled the office he had in Raleigh. There was a formal living room plus the more casual one with the stone fireplace she had seen earlier. The dining room had a table that seated twenty without the leaves in it, and she could have parked her car in the laundry room!

  “Isn’t this all a bit much for one man?” she finally had to ask as they reentered the kitchen. “I mean, it’s wonderful and it’s gorgeous, but unless you’re planning on having, like, a dozen kids, why get such a big house?”

  He laughed at her observation. “No, I don’t plan on having a dozen kids. I don’t plan on having any, as a matter of fact.” Holly turned to him in surprise. “I don’t plan on getting married either. I wanted a home that has everything I ever wanted.”

  “So what you always wanted was a big house to live in by yourself?”

  Well, when she put it that way, it didn’t sound palatable. “No.” Yes. “I like the location, I love the property. Everything in this house is state-of-the-art. I can entertain here. I can bring clients here and not have them feel like they are in a bachelor pad.”

  “Ah.” He was trying to sell her on the idea. She had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to this than he was saying but decided to stay quiet. “I guess I can understand that. And, hey, if things don’t work out for you with the company, you can use this place as an upscale resort and charge for the rooms.”

  There was amusement in her voice that made him chuckle. “And why would I want to do that?”

  “Well, for starters, the bedrooms are larger than any hotel room I’ve ever stayed at. The bathrooms are spa-quality. You managed to provide everything a stranded traveler could ever need.” She thought quietly for a moment before adding, “Well, almost everything.”

  “Only almost? What did I miss?”

  “There were no chocolates on my pillow.” With that simple statement, she sat herself down with all the properness of royalty, and Stephen knew he had never seen anything as delightful. He walked over to the pantry, opened the door, and stepped inside. A minute later, he was standing next to Holly with a square of foil-wrapped dark chocolate in his palm and bowing to her butler-style.

  “I’ll be sure to remedy that tonight, madame,” he said in a deep, serious voice that had Holly cracking up.

  “Now that’s more like it.” She smiled as she took the chocolate from his hand. “Can I request one for each pillow?”

  “Aren’t there, like, forty pillows on that bed?”

  Shrugging, she replied, “A girl can get hungry in the night, can’t she?”

  Placing the bag of chocolate that he had behind his back on the table between them, he sat back down. “So, what do you usually do on a rainy Saturday afternoon?”

  “Laundry. Food shopping. Pay the bills. Rain or shine,” she answered.

  “Sounds exciting. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have any laundry that needs to be done. We could watch a movie,” he suggested.

  Holly remembered the media room he had downstairs in the finished basement. He had a mini-movie theater with deluxe seats that resembled recliners. Yes, she could definitely see herself curled up in one of those buttery-soft leather chairs watching a movie and…

  “Okay, I know you’ll think I’m crazy, considering my earlier comment, but…”

  He arched a dark eyebrow in response.

  “Can we make snacks to bring down there with us?”

  He laughed out loud. Honestly, Stephen could not remember the last time he had laughed this much with anyone. Since waking up this morning or, rather, since Holly came back this morning, he felt lighter than he had in a long time. Maybe there was something to be said about relaxing once in a while. “Snacks? Aren’t you the one who said she ate as much as a lumberjack at breakfast and wouldn’t be hungry again for the rest of the day?”

  Blushing, she turned her head away and mumbled, “Maybe.”

  Pulling her up from her chair, he led her to the pantry and gave her a little shove. “Go ahead, ha
ve at it. What should we have?” He watched her inspect each and every shelf and then go to the refrigerator and snoop around there and in the freezer.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what,” she began. “You go and get the movie and whatnot set up. Give me forty-five minutes, and I’ll have everything ready. Deal?”

  “It’s going to take you forty-five minutes to open some chips?”

  She rolled her emerald eyes at his naïveté. “Do I look like the kind of woman who would merely snack on chips?” At that moment, Stephen really looked at her. She was adorable. With her hair loose and wavy, barely a trace of makeup, and dressed in black yoga pants and a blue hooded sweatshirt, she should have looked plain, unappealing. But she didn’t. She looked like temptation. Stephen almost found himself telling her to skip the snacks because he wanted to feast on her.

  “Hello?” she sang. “Earth to Stephen.”

  He cleared his throat. “Sorry, my mind wandered for a moment. And to answer your question, I honestly have no idea what you like to snack on, so I’m going to step aside and wait to find out. I think I’ll go grab a shower and get changed while you run amok in my kitchen.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Holly was relieved when he finally left the kitchen because now she could play. This was where she felt most at home. She grabbed ingredients from the pantry, the refrigerator, the freezer, and the cabinets; she pulled out pots, pans, and baking dishes. She had things baking, sautéing, simmering while she chopped and prepared plates.

  Right on cue as the timer went off, Stephen walked into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. “What in the world have you done?” There were platters of food of every kind all around him, yet there was no trace of it having been prepared. There were nachos, cheese and crackers, fruit and vegetable platters; there were potato skins piled high with cheese and bacon and sour cream. Stepping closer he noticed mini hot dogs wrapped in pastry and a tiny bowl of popcorn. He looked at her quizzically.