The Alpha's Assistant & The Dom Next Door

by Michelle Love

  “How are you so sure?” Claudette, an elderly board member, who’s been here forever and three days, asks as she looks at me as if I’m a stupid child.

  I turned twenty-six last week. I am far from a stupid child and have more education than any of these people have. I earned my Master a few years ago and am finally through with school and ready to move on to running the company my father started and has entrusted to me. But this, old as hell, board fights me on every last thing I want to change.

  Standing up and picking up my briefcase, I answer her, “Claudette, you may not have aspirations for political greatness but some in this room do. While I don’t care for politics, per say, I am a true American who has tremendous respect for those who have fought a war that’s gone on far too long. I will not make money for or take money from any enemy of the United States. That said, I will be ending this week’s meeting as it’s eight in the evening and my father is hosting a lovely party you are all invited to.”

  Claudette looks at me as I walk out of the board room. Her frown is evidence she’s unhappy with me cutting the meeting short, in her opinion. But I am the CEO and I can do such a thing.

  My body is weary from the many struggles I’ve gone through this week. It’s been past eleven each night before I’ve seen the comfort of my bed. I have worked so hard and the knowledge pretty girls are waiting in the ballroom at the mansion is just too enticing for me to stay and argue with the old battle-axe any longer.

  A chill runs through me as I hear the click of her one-inch heels as she comes up behind me.

  “Cyprian, this is not over.”

  “Oh, but it is, Claudette. How I wish you could join us over here in the real world. You are from an ancient way of thinking. One that’s dangerous now,” I let her know. “In this time of such upheaval, we need to form a solid stand to make sure we remain the country we’ve always been. Helping that Iranian company make more money is a crime, in my opinion. Let it go. Next week, I’ve got a fantastic company in Hawaii to look at. And we’ll all get to go to the resort owned by the huge company. It’ll be fun, relaxing, all expenses paid, you’ll love it. You should bring that granddaughter of yours along. What is her name again?”

  Suddenly, her icy demeanor changes. “Margie is a wonderful young woman. She’s your age and such a prize. The right kind of women to marry such an eligible bachelor as yourself. She’s well-educated and helps out at all of the church functions. She’s a great young woman!”

  I’m afraid she lost me at the word, marry.

  “Send her to the party tonight.”

  “Heaven’s no!” she says as she shakes her head. “Cyprian, she’s a nice young woman. But I could give you her phone number and you could take her on a nice date. A fancy restaurant, some wine, and good conversation. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

  It sounds like pure hell. “Maybe another time. I’m really wrung out from work this week. I need to relax and I’d make awful company for such a nice young woman. Another time perhaps.” I hurry to get on the elevator and find Claudette right at my side.

  She’s rubbing her palms together, quite obviously trying her best to come up with another wonderful date idea. “Our church is having a social after the morning services. You two could meet there. It would be fun. You’re such a patriot, aren’t you a God-fearing man as well?”

  “Church? I’ve never gone. We go to the track on Sundays. You know that,” I say and find myself relieved when the elevator doors open and I can finally get rid of the old woman.

  It’s my fault and I know it, that she’s hooked onto me, as I’ve made the mistake of asking about the woman I’ve seen in pictures around her home when I’ve been there on other occasions.

  “Which one will you be at this Sunday?” she asks and I see it all there in her beady little eyes. She’ll bring the good woman there and expect me to court her.

  “You know what,” I say as I act as if I just recalled something. “We aren’t going to the track at all. I’m going to my mother’s club in L.A. for a visit. I completely forgot. Some other time, Claudette.”

  My driver pulls the car to the curb and hops out to open the back door for me. My long black limousine is spacious, with a full bar, and lots of seating. Tons of room to have fun while getting to another place to have more fun.

  I find a flashy platinum blonde with her long legs stretched out, waiting inside of it for me. Claudette does too. “Who is this?” she asks.

  With a shrug of my shoulders, I ask, “What’s your name?”

  “Lola,” she answers. “Your father sent me to accompany you home after a hard week of work, Cyprian.”

  “How, lovely,” I say as I slip into the black-cherry leather seat. “See you next Friday, Claudette.” My driver closes the door as Lola finds a sweet spot on my neck to nibble as she rubs me in all the right places.

  I love my life…

  Chapter 4

  CYPRIAN

  “The walls in here are a decadent shade of yellow,” the real estate agent tells me as I follow her through the home on the estate I’m looking to buy.

  “I’ve never heard yellow called decadent before,” I say as I look at the walls I would describe as canary yellow. “Good try, though. I do like the ten bedrooms and the theater room that’s in the basement. I bet the sound would be amazing down there.”

  “I’m sure it is. Would you care for a demonstration, Mr. Girard?” she asks as she seems about to bend over backward to make this sale to me.

  Her commission will probably be more than most people make in a year. Time to haggle a bit, I think. “My father said I needed to get myself a home. It’s a good investment. I’m looking for a place that needs some help getting back up and going. I can use the repairs and reconstructions as write-offs. But I’ll pay no more than what I believe this place is worth right now.”

  “Understood. This is an excellent property for you, Mr. Girard,” the woman says as she points out how out of date the crown molding is. “All of this should be replaced.”

  As I look around at the massive home that sits on one hundred acres, I contemplate all the people I’d need to hire and the money I’d have to pay them to take care of the place. I’d also have to hire contractors to make the renovations. With the work it needs and the write-offs I can take, it seems like the perfect home for me.

  It sits just outside of Clemons, South Carolina. The office is only thirty minutes away on the other side of town. The drive out each night might be relaxing.

  I open the door off the kitchen and listen to the crickets chirp in the cool evening air. “Nice, peaceful, relaxing. This will be perfect for me.”

  “And all this room is great for a man who’s thinking about marriage and family soon,” she says as she looks past me, at the vast backyard.

  I laugh at her idea. “I’m not about to get married. Ever.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says as she looks down at the clipboard in her hand. “Your birthday shows me you’re 35. Surely, you want to settle down pretty soon. I mean, you can’t wait forever.”

  “I can and I will. I’m not the marrying type. I work hard. I have no time for the bickering that goes along with having a wife and kids. No, thank you!” I step outside and smell the fresh air and look up at the sky where stars are already beginning to show with no city lights around to hide them. “This is great. I’ll take it.”

  Her words of marriage and kids are put behind her as she sees dollar signs and hops up and down with excitement. “Fantastic!”

  I am about to become a homeowner. A thing I’ve never been. I will be the lord of this castle. Ruler of the many it will take to keep this place running like a well-oiled machine.

  Turning around to go back inside, I find myself laughing. “I’ve never overseen servants and groundskeepers and people like that. I hope I’m good at it.”

  “I’m sure you will be, Mr. Girard. Now, when would you like to meet to sign the papers and set up financing?” she asks as we walk toward the fron
t door.

  “I’ll be paying in cash. If the seller accepts my offer.” I take her clipboard and write in the amount I’m willing to pay for the place. “I’ve managed to squirrel away a few dollars.”

  The fact is, with no bills, and making the money I make as CEO now, I’m a multi-billionaire. There never was any doubt I’d meet my goal to become one. I set that goal when I was a child and it took a little over twenty-five years for that to come to fruition but I made it happen.

  The other goal I have is to make sure my life stays happy and carefree. Well, carefree as far as women go. Women and children have limited roles in my life.

  Do I like kids?

  Sure, but on a limited basis.

  Do I like women?

  Again, sure, but on a limited basis.

  I don’t consider myself a user of women. I do consider myself a man who knows himself and knows what he wants. Am I capable of having a real relationship?

  Of course, I am.

  Do I want one?

  Of course, I don’t!

  Women are beautiful creatures. Their bodies come in all shapes and sizes and that’s wonderful to me. Why settle on one when you can have so many?

  My father is still reaping the benefits of bachelorhood. My mother is a very happy single woman. I think I’ll be fine as a single man who has fantastic weekends with women who expect nothing from me, other than amazing sex.

  I can deliver that two nights a week. Work has me exhausted the other five, anyway. I never realized how hard my father actually worked until I took over his role in the company. It’s a huge job. It takes forever. And so many people depend on me now.

  With all that responsibility, why on Earth would I add in a wife and kids?

  Why would anyone?

  It makes no sense to me. I have tons of beautiful women at my fingertips two nights a week and all day on Sunday. Who could ask for more?

  I’m not greedy. I’ve seen men who are married and have families and still dabble with the women at my father’s parties. They’re walking a tightrope. If they ever got caught, they’d lose half of everything they’ve managed to gain.

  I, on the other hand, have nothing to fear. I’ve watched men run and hide when their wives have shown up, unexpectedly. I’ve helped many to dash out secret doors and get to cars their wives knew nothing about while making sure those women were treated well while they looked for their errant husbands.

  I don’t want that. I don’t want to look over my shoulder for the one woman who wants to hold me down. I don’t want to change into a man who is a hypocrite. Telling the woman, he’s made a life with, to be faithful, while he whores around.

  That’s just mean. Why do that to another person? Why hurt people like that?

  You don’t have to if you keep it all real. Don’t make false promises, like I love you and I will always love only you.

  If it’s not even possible!

  I see no reason to lie to a woman. I see no reason to lie to myself. I like women. I always will. But I will never see fit to cage myself or any woman into a life of dread, deceit, and anarchy.

  Yes, some call it love. Is it really something so easily captured with one word, though? Is it really so easily done?

  ‘I do’ can turn into, ‘I can’t’ in the blink of an eye. Why put myself or some poor woman through that torture?

  Not a thing I’d like to do. Not a thing I have a goal to do.

  Not a thing I want!

  “I know the owners will go for this amount. So, how about tomorrow then?” the real estate lady asks me. “I can have you and this house together before you know it. I just know you’ll treat her well, Mr. Girard. Give her that tender loving care, she’s been needing. You’ll have this estate blossoming in no time. I can’t wait to see her with your hand on her.”

  Staring at the woman, blankly, I shudder as she sounds as if she’s talking about a woman. Suddenly, owning a house sounds like a huge commitment.

  “I’m going to think on it,” I say as I walk out the front door.

  “I thought we had a deal,” she calls out to me, waving her hand, frantically.

  Ducking into the back of my car, I slam the door. “Drive away, Beau. That woman is trying to tie me down!”

  As he speeds away, I turn back and see her slumping as she walks to her car. I may have just cost her some of her time but she was about to trap my ass with that house.

  And I cannot have that…

  Chapter 5

  CYPRIAN

  “What do you mean, you don’t want to be tied down to a house, Cyprian?” my father asks me as he looks at me over his morning cup of coffee.

  “It sounds awful,” I say as I look over the stock report in the New York Times. “Have you seen the price of pork bellies, it’s atrocious?”

  “I have,” he says as he pushes the paper, gently down and looks over it at me. “You should stay away from them. About the house. You need one, Cyprian. Every man needs a castle to call their own.”

  “This place is great. Why move away?” I ask as I fold the paper and put it aside.

  “It’s not that I want you to move away,” he says as he taps the cherry wood table we eat breakfast at on the weekdays in the small breakfast nook just off the main kitchen. “It’s just that you seem a bit stifled. You haven’t made much progress in the last, say ten years. You took over my position and that’s where you’ve stopped. I love to watch you progress. You’re so good at it.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve made Libertine Investments billions in that amount of time. What’s not progressive about that?” I ask as I watch his eyebrows dance as he thinks about what I’ve said.

  “I mean you, personally, son,” he says then places his hand on top of mine as he looks into my eyes. “You have been a person who has moved rapidly through life. You make goals and meet them and then you make new ones. You haven’t made a new goal since taking the CEO position at the company. That’s what I mean by progressing. I think a home of your own and building it up to be what you want it to be should be your next goal. You’re so much happier when you have a goal to work on.”

  Looking away from him, out the window that looks over the large swimming pool in the back of the mansion, I think about what he’s said. “Papa, I have only had one final goal this whole time. It was to take over your position, so you could take an early retirement. And I’ve met that goal. I’ve seen that you have more money than you could spend in a lifetime and watch you enjoy your free time. And that’s my prize at the end of all of my hard work.”

  “Cyprian, while that is very noble of you, it’s not a goal for you, son. That was a goal for me. Now, it’s time to make one for yourself. A home will fill your mind with new ideas. It’s a great experience. When I think about the day I bought this place, it always brings a smile to my face. It was the biggest purchase I’d ever made and it was the one thing which was entirely mine.”

  My eyes fall to the table and I look at my clean plate that had been filed with strawberry crepes. “Then I was thrust upon you, taking some of your home away. And what you really want is your home back and me to find my own. I understand now. I’ll call the real estate lady and tell her the deal is still on. I didn’t think about you wanting your old life back, the one you had before I came along.”

  The weight of his hand on my shoulder has me looking at him. “Son, that’s not it at all. I know your mother and I call you our happy mishap but you were a true gift from above for me. I assume to your mother as well. I don’t know as we hardly converse at all. She and I never were conversationalists.”

  “So, that’s not it? Then why do you want me out so badly?” I ask as I don’t understand and I usually understand almost everything.

  “You need to make your own life. I’ve watched you following me and my life patterns and that’s not fair to you. You’re deeper than I ever was. Or your mother, for that matter. I feel as if you think there’s only one way to live life but there are many ways to live
it,” he says, making me wonder if he’s on to something.

  “I think I do want to live the way you and Mother do, Papa. I see your faces are always happy. I want to be like you two. I want to live the life you two have,” I say and watch a frown cover my father’s face.

  His hair has gone completely gray. But he’s still what people call a handsome man.

  He stills gets all the ladies he cares for!

  “Son, I am getting older with each passing minute. And it’s beginning to settle in with my retirement, that I have set myself up to live alone forever.” He looks around at the empty room around us. “The servants move about like ghosts to make sure I’m never bothered, the way I used to ask them to do. But that was back when I was a busy man with the weight of the world on my shoulders.”

  “Are you saying, you’re unhappy now, Papa?” I ask as he hasn’t seemed unhappy to me in the least.

  He nods. “I don’t know how to talk to women. I flirt with women I know I can or talk business with women who are in my business world. But I have no idea how to talk to one like she’s my friend. I don’t want that for you. I want more for you.”

  “You’ve told me, on many occasions, when you have a relationship, it means arguments, unhappiness at times, and putting people before yourself and what you want. Are you changing your mind, now?”

  “Not for me, no. I’m old and set in my ways. I couldn’t put up with that now if I wanted to attempt to. But you’ve led a life that’s been led by me and I think it’s time for you to follow your own heart for a while. See what you really want in your life. That’s why a home of your very own is the best place to start,” he says then looks out the window to watch a sparrow fly past it to a nest in the tree next to it.