by Jagger Cole
All He Wants
Jagger Cole
Contents
A Special Present
All He Wants
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Afterword
Also by Jagger Cole
About the Author
All He Wants
Jagger Cole © 2020
All rights reserved.
Cover by Plan 9 Book Design | Editing by MJ Edits
This is a literary work of fiction. Any names, places, or incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Similarities or resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events or establishments, are solely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal and a violation of US copyright law.
Created with Vellum
A Special Present
Grab this billionaire romance for FREE when you sign up for my newsletter!
All He Wants
Julia:
Evan Danforth is a man who has it all – wealth, power, insanely unfair good looks, and his pick of the litter when it comes to women. I know I’m invisible to him. I know I’m just the barista that makes his usual ridiculously complex latte order. That is, until the day he tells me he needs me to save his billion-dollar empire.
Now I’m in way over my head as personal assistant to the hottest, youngest billionaire in New York. But the deeper I sink into Evan Danforth, the more I see there might just be one last thing on earth he doesn’t have, and wants.
Me.
Evan:
She’s the girl I can’t look away from—the gorgeous barista at my usual spot that takes my stupid latte order and takes my breath away. I know all she sees is another obnoxiously rich finance bro. But all I see is the one thing I can’t have.
She tests everything I am, and everything I have—my patience, my resolve, my sobriety. But right now, I’m a man at war. A rival has launched an assault on the empire I’ve built from scratch, and Julia Summers might just be the one addiction I need to save it all.
She might be the one thing I need to save myself.
1
Evan
Today has gone from bad to worse, and it’s well on its way to abysmal. I snarl and glare at my phone as the elevator descends into the lobby of the building which has my name emblazoned across it. The stock ticker on the phone app shows the stock price for Olsen Holdings climbing. My blood pressure rises with it, and I swear violently as the doors slide open.
Out in the lobby, the attendants and doormen avoid my glare, which is wise. I’m not a cruel man, and I’m not one to lash out at innocent people, especially my own employees, when I’m angry at something else. But they can basically see the steam rising from my ears. I think we can all agree that letting me blow through like a storm is the best option for everyone.
I’m sure by now the whole building has heard the news of the morning. Not only is my four-billion-dollar acquisition of Olsen Holdings going to hell in a hand-basket. But then Veronica, my secretary of almost five years since I started this company, walked. Not only that, but she walked with half my fucking client list, proprietary documents, and a head full of every goddamn password I have.
The clients I can woo back, probably. My legal team is already putting together the world’s most terrifying legal letter for her to return the documents under penalty of prison time. The passwords I’ve already mostly changed. What puts me over the top though is the loss of trust. I put my faith in Veronica. I gave her access to parts of my life no one has had before. I’m notoriously closed off, and I opened the doors for her to be able to run both my professional and personal lives.
But now, it appears a rival of mine made her an obscene offer to head-hunt her away. Petrov Valdiski is another huge player in the private equity world of New York. He’s been gunning for me for years, too. I doubt he even needs a secretary or has any use for Veronica. He just wants what she knows, even if it breaks the mountain of NDAs she signed when she was hired. He mostly just wants to make me suffer. And right now, he’s succeeding, in spectacular fucking fashion.
I storm out of the building and turn to walk down the street. Every New Yorker has their “New York” walk—the head down, eye’s slightly frowning “don’t fuck with me” walk. But mine even makes the most hardened New Yorkers scurry to the side for me. I’m like a bull surrounded by thunderclouds stampeding down Wall Street.
My first instinct is to go to a bar. I want to drink, and I want to drink hard. That gives me pause. I stop where I am, and I grit my teeth. I shove my hand into my pocket, and I finger the sobriety medallion there. No bars. No drinks. Five years sober is not going to be ended because of fucking Veronica and Petrov.
Instead, I divert down a side-street. I know exactly where I’m going. The blue awning is familiar, as is the stupid smiling blue fish with sunglasses logo. But Blue Fish Coffee has become my new bar. Instead of getting wasted off of premium single malt scotch and whatever drugs I can get my hands on, I drink triple vanilla soy extra shot extra foam oat milk with a sprinkle of almond powder lattes. A lot of them.
I all but kick down the door to get inside. A few patrons scurry aside for me. Others at their laptops look up like a demon has just barged in to harvest souls. The ringing in my ears hits a fever pitch. The rage is about to boil over. But then, I see her, and I can breathe again.
It’s as if someone’s turned the volume down. The thundering in my ears subsides, and my jaw begins to slowly unclench itself. My hands uncoil from fist, and I actually take a breath. All of it is because of her.
Her gorgeous hair is pulled back from her pretty face. But a loose strand hangs across her cheek like it always does. Full, innocent blue eyes, pouty, pillow-soft lips, and curves that make my cock swell. I watch as she smiles at the customer she’s helping when she slides him his coffee. For a moment, anger flashes inside of me as her hand brushes his. It’s like this asshole has touched something priceless of mine—something that belongs to me. But I take another deep breath and try and calm myself. He walks away, and I move towards the register.
I’ve watched her for months. It’s rare that she’s here when I come. She probably works the night shift or something. But when she is, I want to forget the goddamn coffee. When she’s here, she’s all I want to drink and consume. We’ve barely spoken, and they don’t wear name tags here so I’ve no idea what her name is. But this girl has invaded my fantasies. She’s the reason I still haven’t gone back to dating, even though my sponsor thinks I should. Because no other woman on earth is her.
Before I can get to the counter to order, my phone dings again. I look down, and the fury rises once more. Olsen Holdings’ stock is surging, and I know it’s Petrov screwing with me by making huge buy orders. If the price goes higher, my takeover is tanked, and he knows it.
My other cell goes off, and I yank it out and answer it curtly. “What,” I snap.
“Sir, bad news.” It’s Barry, my lead financial analyst. His tone sounds like he’s about to give a eulogy.
“Tell me,” I growl.
“It’s our pharmaceuticals sector,” he says quickly. “It’s flatlining. Every compa
ny in our portfolio is dropping like flies.”
“Son of bitch!” I roar. The patrons of the coffee shop gasp and look up from their laptops. I pay them no mind. “Get the boards on the phone, now!”
“Sir—”
“All of them, Barry! God fucking damnit!” The call waiting beeps, and I glance at the phone. It’s my legal department. Shit. “Barry, hang on. Keep me on this line while you arrange sit downs. Do it now.” I switch to legal. “Yeah?”
“Have you seen it?”
“Seen fucking what!?”
Susan, my chief counsel, sighs. “She’s suing us. Veronica, I mean. And it’s bad, Evan.”
“Mother fucker!” I roar loudly. A woman quickly ushers her kids out of the coffee shop, shooting me a horrible look. “She’s suing us? She quit!”
“Harassment suit, against you,” Susan groans. “Evan, I know it’s hogwash, but it won’t just go away. And the damage to your reputation…”
My first phone rings, and my fury rises. “Hang on, Susan. Yes?” I bark.
“Mr. Danforth, yes, this is Shannon Arthurs with the FTC. We’ve been following some irregularities with your company, and we’d like to request that you—”
“Am I being goddamn audited?”
“Indeed, you are, Mr. Danforth.”
My second phone buzzes; it’s Susan texting me to get the heck back on the phone. Everything starts to blur together, and I can feel my heart racing. I pick up the line. I’ve got Susan screaming about lawsuits in one ear, the FTC threatening to audit me in the other. The stock ticker for Olsen Holdings is still going up, and the med companies in my portfolio are tanking hard.
My vision swims, and there’s a ringing in my ears. I start to wonder if a guy as healthy and young as me can have a heart attack. I’ve got my laptop case slung over one shoulder. Right there in Blue Fish Coffee, with a phone on each ear, I sling it off and pounce on the nearest free table. I shove the laptop open while my chest contracts and my visions swims. I’m barking orders and profanities, when suddenly, a hand rests on my arm.
I whirl, and my eyes are stunned to see her standing there. Her big blue eyes hold mine, and her soft, full lips purse tightly. For a moment, I forget the fact that my entire world is collapsing around me, until she opens her pretty mouth.
“Let me,” she says softly. She reaches for one of my phones, and I frown in confusion. What the hell is she doing? “I can help,” she says gently and nods slowly. “Let me help you.”
She reaches for my phone again. This time, I let her take it. “Susan, hang on. My assistant is going to take notes on this. Here’s…”
“Julia,” she says with a small smile. “My name is Julia.”
She takes the phone, and suddenly she’s all business. She expertly starts speaking to my head counsel. I watch her yank the pen out from behind her ear and a napkin from the holder on the table. She starts to take rapid notes on it as she nods into the phone.
I go back to listening to Shannon’s FTC threats. Before I even know it, Julia’s slipping into the chair next to me and swiveling my laptop in front of her. She switches to Word and starts typing notes. My company’s internal messaging system pops up with frantic messages from Barry. Julia doesn’t even blink. She just starts typing a reply that this is Mr. Danforth’s assistant and to proceed so that she can relay information.
I’m spellbound. The girl is sitting there talking to the head legal for a multibillion-dollar company. At the same time, she’s flawlessly taking notes and also chatting to someone else concerning about forty billion dollars in put options. She does this all while looking freaking gorgeous, too.
Shannon lets me go. I end that call and reach for my phone. But Julia turns and flashes me a warm smile. “I’ve got it,” she whispers. She nods with her chin at a large to-go cup on the table that I haven’t noticed yet. And fuck me, it’s my usual order. Christ, who the hell is this girl?
Five minutes later, she closes the chat with Barry, professionally ends things with Susan, and types a final note. She hangs up the phone and closes the laptop. Then we both realize we’re sitting there in total silence. She turns to me, and her face turns bright red.
“I’m—I’m so sorry, Mr. Danforth,” she says quickly. She stands abruptly, almost falling out of the chair. “You just… you looked like you were having a hard day, and I—”
“It’s fine,” I say slowly.
“I’m so sorry!” She blurts out again. “My goodness, I-I had no right to just look at your private—”
“It’s completely fine,” I growl.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe I… Mr. Danforth, I am so...” Her face reddens and she starts to back away. “I sort of just went on autopilot! I’m so sorry that I just—”
“Saved my ass?” I growl with a lopsided smirk. “I’m not.”
She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. Her face reddens deeper. “I’ll let you get back to—”
“When can you start?”
She blinks in surprise. “Pardon me?”
“My assistant just quit today. When can you start?”
Julia frowns. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean I’m hiring you. Today, right now, as my new assistant. When can you start?”
Her mouth falls open. “Mr. Danforth? I-I have a job.”
“This one pays better, believe me,” I growl. I pack up my crap and shoulder the bag as I stand. My eyes hold her sweet blue ones. “Much, much better. That building over there?” I point, and her face reddens.
“The one with your name on it?”
I smile. “That’s the one. Come tomorrow at nine, give your name to the front desk. They’ll bring you up.”
“Mr. Danforth,” she frowns. “I appreciate it, but I have a job.”
“Then I guess I’m still looking for an assistant. But it’s you I want,” I growl. She’s all I want, actually. For several reasons that don’t at all concern work. Her face reddens like she’s just read my mind. Part of me hopes she has. “Come tomorrow, Julia. Or don’t. But I hope you do.”
I drop a hundred on the table, and she wets her lips. “The coffee is on me, Mr. Danforth.”
“And I appreciate it. That’s for the help.”
“I typed notes for like five minutes,” she laughs nervously.
“You’re right.”
I drop four more hundos on the table, and her jaw drops a little more.
“Now imagine what you’ll make an hour with me,” I grunt. Her eyes swivel back to mine, and my dick fucking swells even harder. What am I doing? She’d obviously make an incredible assistant. But hiring her as mine is an awful idea. Not when she looks like this, and not when she does what she does to me without even knowing it.
“See you tomorrow, Julia.”
“I just told you—”
“Then I guess I won’t,” I shrug. “Have a good night, Julia.”
I walk past her and out the door. Something tells me, I’m going to have a very, very hard time doing a goddamn thing though until I see her again.
2
Julia
“Um, what the heck was that?” Mateo, my coworker, stares at me when I step back behind the counter.
“Sorry, I just… he’s a regular,” I shrug. I know it’s a lame explanation for what just happened. I just hope he doesn’t push it. But I wish in vain.
“Girl, this whole place is regulars. But you don’t see me out there filing any of their tax returns.”
Mateo’s not wrong, obviously. Some of the regulars are real assholes, too. Finance guys aren’t exactly known for being cordial to service industry workers, I guess. But some of them go above and beyond. There’s this one young guy who yells his order from the doorway, over whatever line is already queued up. I mean, God complex much?
Then there’s the older Russian or maybe Ukrainian guy. The man snaps his freaking fingers in your face while he rattles off his order, as if you’re impaired. He never tips, and he makes a mess of the cream and
sugar station and then barks at us to clean it up on his way out.
I blush. “He looked like he was having a rough one. That’s all.”
“No, he looked like he was about to explode.”
“Exactly. I couldn’t just not help.”
Mateo rolls his eyes. “Do you know who that was?”
It’d be impossible not to. You don’t have to be a finance wiz or even have anything to do with Wall Street to know who Evan Danforth is. The man is basically a household name for God’s sake. He’s one of the world’s youngest, self-made billionaires. Ten years ago, he was working construction as a brick layer. Then he taught himself to code and wrote some kind of financial algorithm. Now, his name is on a building on Wall Street two blocks from where I work.
He’s also absolutely freaking beautiful. I mean model beautiful. It’s actually common knowledge that Versace and Armani have both approached him to literally model for them. But he’s turned them both down, repeatedly.
“Yes,” I blush. “I know who he is.”
“He just offered you a job.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I laugh. But when I look back at Mateo, he’s not laughing. “I mean I’m not going to take it.” I frown.
“Um, why the fuck not?”
“Because!”
“Yeah, do better than that.”
I smile. “Because he was just being nice.”
“No, girl, he wasn’t. And you just rocked that! Have you done secretary work before?”