by Vivian Wood
Cam smiled, pretending she didn’t notice the other woman’s tone.
“Yeah, I’ve worked for three high-level CEOs, so we’re probably good.”
Lucy started to say something, but just then the door behind them swung open.
“We’ll see what the market does,” said the first man to exit.
The man had a posh British accent. He talked to someone inside the office, but Cam couldn’t see who without seeming rude. Gray-haired and well-dressed, he stopped when he saw Lucy and Cam.
“Ladies?” he asked.
Lucy stood up straighter, grabbing and raising Cam by the arm.
“Mr. Calloway,” she said, nodding politely. “This is Cameron, Ingrid’s replacement.”
“Ah! Spencer Calloway. A pleasure to meet you,” he said, shaking Cam’s hand.
“You too, sir,” Cam replied. She noticed that he was tall and broad, probably quite the ladies man in his day.
Was this her boss?
The man gave her a once-over, then turned back to the office.
“Smith! Your new assistant is out here!” he called.
Cam had about three seconds to turn the name over in her mind before its owner came out of the office. She only put it together half a second before he was in her face.
It was the same Smith from last night, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself. Only now he was dressed in an expensive suit, not punk rock gear.
Her mouth opened in shock.
“Hello—” he said, then paused. He looked at her, taking in her black business dress. She saw the moment of recognition, then saw him blow past it. “Uh… what was your name?”
“Cameron,” she said, blinking. She held out her hand. “I’m your new executive assistant.”
He took her hand. The moment they touched, the skin-to-skin contact caused the fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. Their eyes caught and held, the moment stretching a bit too long.
“All right, then. It was nice to meet you, Cameron,” the senior Calloway said. “Lucy, why don’t you walk me out? We should let her get settled in.”
“Yes, sir,” Lucy said, throwing a look over her shoulder as she escorted her boss down the hall.
She was busy trying not to eye fuck the hell out of her new boss. It was just… he wore the hell out of a suit, and she happened to know what was underneath.
Cam and Smith were silent until they were out of sight, then he turned around and picked up the phone.
“Who are you calling?” she asked.
“Stephanie,” he said, looking at her as he dialed the phone. “No need to discuss what happened last night. I’ll just have you transferred.”
“Stop!” she said, stepping over and pressing the switchhook to disconnect the call. “Wait.”
He frowned. “Why?”
She knew her best shot at finding out about financial matters would be in this office. If she let him transfer her, she was blowing an amazing chance. She scrambled for something to say.
“Look, I need this job,” she said, throwing her head back. “I really, really need this job. Without it, I’ll be thrown out of my apartment.”
“So? You can have this job and work for someone else,” he said. That British accent was so smooth, it gave her chills.
“But—” she started, then put her hand on his wrist. The contact was shocking, like licking a battery. He looked up at her, making eye contact. “I was recommended to this job by someone that works here, okay? If I’m making trouble and getting transferred all over the place, it would be… let’s just say it would be bad for me. Really bad.”
Smith grimaced, pulling away from her touch.
“So what, then? What is it that you want?” he asked.
“Just give me a week,” she said, trying not to let her excitement show. “We both pretend nothing ever happened, and you try me out for a week.”
For a moment, she wasn’t sure he was going to go for it. He ran his hand through his hair, looking annoyed. Still, he couldn’t hold last night against her, could he?
“One week,” he said at last. “You’ll be here when I’m here, yeah?”
“Yes! Thank you. You won’t regret it, I promise!” she said.
“Just… do your job, and don’t bring up my activities outside of here,” he said, shaking his head.
“I won’t,” she replied.
With one last uncertain look at her, he turned and vanished into his office. Her phone rang, and she jumped to answer it, allowing herself to get pulled into the swirl of everyday duties.
3
Damn, but Smith was in trouble.
He’d worked late into the night yesterday, distracted by Cameron’s presence. She was out of sight, but certainly not out of mind. He’d almost had a heart attack when he figured out who she was. The redheaded beauty from Circle Bar with the wicked smile and curves that wouldn’t quit.
Hell, he was hard the moment he saw her. Who wouldn’t be?
When his father introduced her as his new assistant though, Smith’s world had been turned upside down. His life outside the office, which he fought very hard to keep separate from his life as the company’s heir, had come crashing down.
It wasn’t that he wanted to judge her for taking a risk. Obviously he’d been there too, had done the same thing.
It was just… since he’d agreed to leave the military a year ago and come join the family business, he’d been walking a fine line. The world of privilege he’d grown up in, of yachts and private schools, seemed so far away from who he’d become during his time in the military. Stepping back into the role of prodigal son was hard.
He made it work by having a private life completely outside the office, and by keeping them separated.
So when he’d gone last night, leaving the office without a word to her, he secretly hoped he’d seen the last of her.
But when he arrived in the office this morning, and spotted that bright red hair when he got off the elevator, he hadn’t been excited. He was pissed off.
She stood when she saw him, looking strangely determined. He walked up to her desk, ignored her pale blue eyes and the scattering of freckles that intrigued him, and threw his coat and briefcase in her arms.
“I’ll have coffee in my office,” he said as he moved past her. “No calls until nine.”
He closed the door in her fairly surprised-looking face. He went to the floor to ceiling window in his office, staring out at the busy downtown area.
“Fuck,” he said aloud. “How the fuck am I supposed to deal with this?”
The city skyline wasn’t answering any of his questions, so he turned to his desk. All chrome and glass, his desk was massive in size and had cost a ridiculous amount. He sat down in his chair, his fingers pressed to his temples.
Smith had a lot of responsibilities, a lot weighing on his shoulders. He didn’t have time for a distraction like Cameron, not at work.
The door opened, and Cameron came in with coffee. She was wearing a lacy yellow dress that stretched when she moved. It was all too easy for him to imagine what she wore beneath the dress, probably a tiny white thong.
He shook his head to clear it. This was the problem, right here. He needed to be involved in his work, not fantasizing about his assistant.
“I didn’t know how you liked it,” she said, setting it down on the desk. “So I brought some cream and sugar.”
She held up packets of sugar and tiny creamer cups.
“Black,” he said, keeping it simple.
“Okay. You have a meeting at nine thirty in the conference room upstairs,” she said. “And then a whole list of phone calls to return.”
“Fine,” he said. He picked up a pen from his desk, wanting to look like he was working. “That’s all I need from you right now.”
“Alright,” she said, seeming uncertain. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
She turned and made her way out of his office. He had to rip his eyes away from staring at her ass.
The door closed, and he sighed. The fact was, when he saw her at the club, he was immediately attracted to her face and body. Ass, tits, legs… all fucking amazing. The angelic face and red hair were just icing on the cake, the cherry on top.
And what she’d done with that body…
He could still picture her writhing beneath him, legs spread, mouth open as she cried out for more. Fuck, it was sexy.
Smith shifted in his chair, aware that he was getting hard again. He gave himself another shake and turned on his computer. Answering some emails was something he could do right now, at least.
He sank into the task, sipping his coffee. There were several messages in his inbox about the company’s financial statements. Mostly it was a lot of accountants talking about how there were irregularities in the statements, but they weren’t sure what the irregularities were.
He felt like he had barely skimmed the surface of the important emails when Cameron knocked and came in again.
“It’s time for your meeting upstairs,” she announced.
He sighed and stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Us?”
His brow rose. “Unless you plan on me taking my own notes.”
She flushed. “Of course not. Let me get my things.”
She disappeared from the doorway. He spent a couple of minutes getting his laptop and a few papers together, then got up and headed out the door.
Cameron fell in step with him, shuffling papers and her laptop. He strode to the elevator, letting her hurry to match his steps. He got in with her on his heels.
As they rode up, he tried not to inhale too much of the gently perfumed air around her. She smelled like the perfect combination of vanilla and spice. It was too much.
The second the doors opened, he stormed out, leaving her to keep pace. She struggled to keep up in her heels, falling behind.
“Smith!” his father called the second he entered the conference room. A huge conference table dominated the room, and half a dozen of the company’s upper-level suits were also present. “It’s about time!”
He shook hands with his father, keeping his face blank in the face of his father’s exuberance. “I’m here.”
“Yes, yes,” his father said. “Let’s get settled in, shall we?”
They all moved to seats at the table. Smith noticed Cameron hesitating, trying to decide where she should sit. He pointed to the seat next to his, raising a brow.
She flushed and hurried to sit, opening her laptop to take notes.
“Smith, I wanted to have you here so the accountants can have their day in the sun,” his father said. “They’re all determined to fuss, so I said we’d both hear them out. Let’s just get it all over with.”
“I see,” Smith said, looking at the worried faces around the table. “Well, let’s hear it.”
One of the accountants cleared his throat and stood, prepared to begin lecturing the room.
Smith slid a look over to Cameron, who was already typing up a storm. Her brow was puckered, little frown lines making themselves known. He almost smiled at that, but caught himself in time.
This was the problem, this exactly. He should be worrying about whatever it was that had the accountants worried, not thinking about his assistant’s cute facial expression.
He glowered at the table, knowing that he was missing whatever the talking heads were saying, and feeling angry about it.
The accountant droned on about corporate accounts, which didn’t help things. He kept glancing over at Cameron, thinking illicit thoughts about the other night, and then forcing his gaze away.
He wondered whether she had really been that good in bed, or if the situation was trapping them both in a bubble, making their night together seem much more magical than it really was.
If she wasn’t right underneath his nose, their night together would fade into the background. The fact that he couldn’t get the noises she’d made out of his head, the breathy little ohs to the shouts of pleasure… before he knew it, the meeting was over, though he'd be hard-pressed to admit that he hadn't retained most of what he'd heard. He hoped Cameron had taken good notes. They returned to his office without speaking to one another, and he got back to work, glad for the distraction.
After a long series of conference calls, Smith rubbed his temple, thinking again exactly how fucked he was.
His intercom beeped, drawing his attention. He pressed the button.
“Yes?”
“The senior Mr. Calloway is on the line for you,” Cameron said. “Should I transfer him?”
He let go of button for a second, sighing. Then he pressed it again. “Go ahead.”
After a moment, the phone started to ring. He picked it up.
“Father,” he said.
“Just calling to see how the new executive assistant is doing,” his father said. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”
He gritted his teeth. Of course his father would have an opinion on his assistant. His own assistants changed every few months because he couldn’t stop sleeping with them.
“She’s fine,” Smith said, keeping his voice calm.
“Well, that’s good. I was wondering if you wanted my lake house for the weekend. Take her there, show her the ropes.”
Smith wished he hadn’t expected this phone call, he really did. Unfortunately, his father was constantly encouraging him to misbehave, egging him on. Yet another reason for his strict rule against not combining work and pleasure.
“No, I don’t think I’ll need it,” he said. “Miss Turner and I will be too busy to be running around, I should think.”
“She’s not resisting your advances, is she?”
“There’s nothing to resist,” he said. Nothing now, anyway.
“I’ll fire her, if you wish.”
Smith hesitated. Although it was coming from entirely the wrong place, his father’s words did have merit. He could let his father take care of Cameron. He’d never have to see her again.
Too bad that wasn’t the kind of man Smith thought himself to be.
“No,” he answered firmly. “She’s fine where she is.”
Even though I can’t stop staring at her ass when she walks away, or thinking about what’s just underneath her skirt, he thought.
“All right, all right. Your loss. I’ve got calls to make. Talk to you later.”
His father hung up without preamble. He exhaled and leaned back in his chair, unsure what he was supposed to do.
4
A few days later, Cam straightened her stockings beneath her dress and shifted in her seat. She was looking through page after page of scanned financial documents, and coming up with nothing. And the damn stockings she wore took some getting used to, not that Erika cared.
After telling her editor a little bit of the drama — namely that she’d flirted with Smith at a bar prior to working for him — she’d gotten a stipend to go shopping.
She had plenty of dresses for work, and said so… but that didn’t stop Erika from giving her the stipend.
“Get some stockings, and the matching garters… and don’t forget panties,” Erika said. “Men love matching panties.”
Cam wasn’t sure what to say to that. She should turn red and stammer about how Smith was never going to see her panties, but he already had. She wasn’t sure how far she could go with her lie about whether or not they’d gone home together, so she bit her tongue and let it pass.
Now she was sitting in the office, staring out the window at the gorgeous view, and wondering if Smith had even noticed her lingerie. It was stupid to worry about, seeing as how he’d been hellbent on ignoring her the last few days.
She looked at the clock on her computer. It was almost noon. Time for Smith to go to lunch, and for her to clean his office.
It turned out that Smith had a compulsive streak of tidiness. Every day, he put all his trash in the trash can, and then sat the can next to the door. When she hadn’t noticed it the first day, he’d took h
er aside and showed her that the trash went into a bin downstairs.
He also showed her the cleaning closet, a sleek chrome panel in the wall of his office that opened to show a dazzling array of cleaning products. Every day at noon, she was expected to vacuum, dust, and polish everything in his office.
And she’d learned to be quick about it; the first time she cleaned, she took the whole lunch hour, trying to be perfect. She was alarmed when he came back from lunch as she was finishing, and then launched into composing a letter, expecting her to transcribe as he dictated.
Her stomach had growled all afternoon that day, until she could sneak away for a couple quick bites of her lunch. Smith Calloway was a little more than particular, that was for sure.
She sighed. Picking up her purse, she rummaged around inside and pulled out a necklace. The necklace had a locket, a little gold one, its etching worn smooth from being touched. She rubbed the outside of the locket now, comforting herself.
The phone rang at her desk, and she answered it.
“Hello?”
“Yes, this is the senior Mr. Calloway’s office calling,” a nasally older woman responded. “Mr. Calloway would like a meeting with both you and his son, as soon as possible.”
Cam’s hand flew to her throat. Had Smith complained about her to his father? She’d barely been here a week!
“Certainly,” she said, though it came out sounding weak.
“Mr. Calloway would prefer it if you came now. Will that be possible?”
“Let me check,” she said, putting the woman on hold. She put the necklace back in her purse quickly.
She took a deep breath, exhaled, and then went to Smith’s office door. She knocked, and was told to come in.
“What is it?” Smith asked, not looking up from his computer.
“Your father wants to see us both in his office. Now, if possible.”
She tried not to let her voice shake, tried to stand tall. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything wrong… yet.
“Us?” he said, pausing.
“Yes. Both of us,” she said.
He remained perfectly neutral, which she had learned to expect from him.