Not Sorry

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Not Sorry Page 4

by Ella Miles


  Jamie would be proud of me for what just happened. She always says I need to use everything I have to go after what I want. Not just my head, but my body, too. It turns out that maybe she was right. That my body and dirty mouth might actually come in handy. They might actually get me the promotion. I just hope I’m not biting off more than I can chew when it comes to Sean.

  5

  Sean

  What the hell am I doing?

  That’s the question that keeps running through my head as I try to answer the dozens of emails that fill my inbox. I’ve hardly gotten anything done this afternoon since Olive’s interview.

  I had no intention of turning Olive into a manager. I don’t even know if it’s possible to turn her into a competent manager. She’s a complete mess. She has zero confidence in herself, which makes me have zero confidence in her ability to manage people. And, to make matters worse, she doesn’t even have her realtor’s license.

  But the way she acted when she entered my office changed everything. She had me entranced from the second she spoke. She brought me further under her spell when I looked up and saw how provocatively she was dressed. I usually hate women who dress so provocatively to try to get ahead in the world, but it’s a proven fact that it works. And I had no idea that Olive had it in her to pull such a dirty trick like that. But, evidently, there’s a hint of a strong, fierce woman beneath her weak exterior. Maybe, just maybe, I can find a way to keep that strong, fierce woman on the surface.

  But there’s another reason I asked her to dinner tonight. Because I want her all to myself. After seeing her in my office, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Even money.

  I glance at my watch. I still have thirty minutes until I told her to be ready to go to dinner. But I can’t wait any longer, and I’m not getting any useful work done anyway. I close my laptop and roll my sleeves down before I walk over and grab my coat off the coat rack in the corner of the room. Then, I walk out of Jamie’s office and find Olive sitting at her desk.

  She immediately spots me, like she has been staring at my door, waiting for me to come out, but when I catch her gaze, and she realizes she has been caught, she begins clicking furiously on her mouse while burying her head behind the computer screen, trying to act like she has been working this whole time. But I know that she hasn’t gotten any more work done than I have.

  I know that I affect her. As much as she tries to deny it and pretend like she has a boyfriend, I know that she wants me as badly as I want her. And, despite how wrong it might be to fuck my assistant, who has led me to believe she could be a manager, I don’t care. I’ve done much worse in the past.

  “I hope you got all your work done, Olive, because I finished early, and I’m ready to go to dinner now.”

  She nods and then fidgets with her computer a second more before closing it. I examine every inch of her body as she closes her laptop. I notice that her shirt is buttoned much higher than it was in my office, much to my disappointment. Although I’m happy that the rest of the men in this office didn’t get the same show that I did.

  I shake my head. Where did that come from? I can’t be jealous of other men looking at Olive.

  I watch as Olive puts her computer into a backpack. I sigh but don’t say anything. She then walks over and grabs the same bright, puffy pink coat that she wore to pick me up from the airport. I grab it out of her hand and then walk over and drop it in the trash.

  “Hey! That was my coat! What are you doing? I can’t go outside without a coat. It’s freezing.”

  “You can wear mine,” I say, shrugging mine off and handing it to her.

  She frowns as she takes my coat from me. “What’s wrong with my coat?”

  “If you have to ask, you’ll never understand what’s wrong with your coat.”

  “You owe me a new coat.”

  “Fine. I’ll have my assistant send a new coat to your place in the morning.”

  “Aren’t I your assistant? So, doesn’t that mean I will be buying myself a coat?” she asks.

  I sigh. “You aren’t my only assistant, Olive.”

  She frowns. “But I like my puffy coat. I don’t need a new coat.”

  I frown. “If you want the manager job, you’re going to have to start dressing like a manager, and that means, no puffy coats.”

  “Fine,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  I start walking toward the elevator, resisting the urge to grab her hand because I know it would be inappropriate. But I do manage to place my hand on the small of her back as I lead her into the elevator. I do get close enough to smell the pretty apples and cherry scent oozing off her frizzy hair. I need to remember to get her a salon appointment. I know that alone would do wonders for her confidence even though I do like her untamed hair a bit.

  “Should I get an Uber?” Olive asks as we ride down in the elevator.

  “No.”

  “No?” Olive asks, cocking her head to the side to look at me.

  “I leased a car since I’m going to be here for months.”

  “Oh.”

  The doors open, and I can’t handle it anymore. I grab her hand and pull her hard out of the elevator. “Come on,” I say impatiently, giving her a reason for why I am holding her hand that has nothing to do with how badly I need to touch her.

  I lead her down the hallway and out to the parking garage where my Audi S4 is parked. I reach into my pocket and pull out my keys to unlock the car. I walk her to the passenger side and open the door without thinking.

  Olive looks up at me, wide-eyed, as I help her into my car. I try to look annoyed, like the reason for me helping her is because I don’t think she is capable of quickly getting into the car by herself. Her wide-eyed expression quickly turns into an annoyed frown.

  I smirk as I run around to the driver’s side. She really doesn’t think that I’m into her at all. And I’m going to keep it that way. If she thinks I want her, then I’m giving up some of the control to her. And I hate doing that. I’d rather her come to me. I want her begging, willing to do anything, because she needs me so badly. And, until she gets to that point, I’ll keep my hands off of her.

  I drive quickly out of the parking spot. The tires squeak against the pavement as I turn too fast around the corner of the parking garage. Olive sucks in a breath and grabs hold of the door handle. Her eyes stay open wide as I whip out onto the street. But she doesn’t ask me to slow down. She doesn’t say anything. It’s like, in the last couple of hours since her interview, she has reverted back to the unconfident, quiet woman she was before.

  I smirk. We will see how long she can last without getting that confident, sassy mouth back. I press my foot down harder on the gas. We speed up, flying past cars at a speed that I know is far past her comfort level.

  She still doesn’t say anything though. Instead, her grasp on the door handle gets tighter. She squeezes her eyes shut as I speed up faster to zip around another car, barely squeezing in front of the car as I switch lanes.

  I frown, determined to break her. I slow down, pausing at a stoplight, allowing her to catch her breath for just a second. Her eyes slowly open, and her grip on the door handle loosens.

  “Have you been to Alinea before?” I ask.

  Olive looks at me with wide eyes, but I can’t keep my eyes focused on hers. Instead, I move them to her chest that is rising and falling hard as she breathes heavily, giving me a great view of her breasts as they poke in and out of the blouse she is wearing.

  “No. Is that where we are going? That place is really expensive,” Olive says.

  I grin. “Good thing I make a lot of money then,” I say as the light turns green.

  I whip around the corner, and she tries to grab hold of the door handle again, but I caught her off guard, so she can’t. I can feel the panic oozing off her body as I drive.

  Still, I keep driving faster. Not because I love it—although I do like driving fast, like any other warm-blooded male does—but because I need her to tell me
to stop. I never drive this fast, preferring instead to drive safe and planned, like everything else in my life, but I’m more than willing to change all of my plans when it comes to Olive.

  “Stop!” Olive screams as I accelerate again, getting far too close for her comfort to the car in front of us.

  I slam on the brakes, immediately slowing us down to a more reasonable speed.

  I glance over at her panicked expression on her face.

  “What are you doing? Trying to get us killed?”

  I frown. “No. Just trying to get you to actually speak up for yourself with some confidence.”

  She glares at me. “You did this on purpose to try to get me to yell at you? You could have killed us!”

  “You should have told me to stop.”

  She runs her hand through her hair, her hand shaking a little as it combs through her long strands. “I was trying to be nice. This is your car. I don’t like telling people how to drive or what to do.”

  My frown deepens, and my grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Then, why did you apply for the manager job? All it is, is telling people what to do.”

  She opens her mouth and then quickly closes it again. “I meant, in my personal life.”

  I shake my head as I pull over in front of the restaurant. “You don’t get a personal life. If you are going to keep working for me, everything is about business.”

  The valet opens her door, and I open my own. I step out before walking around to her side of the car to wait for her. I flip the valet the keys and resist the urge to hold my arm out to her. I take a step forward, but Olive is no longer by my side.

  “You coming?” I ask.

  Olive scurries forward and then whispers in my ear, “I think we should go somewhere else. This place is really nice, and I’m not really dressed that nicely.”

  I look up and down her body that is covered in my coat as she wraps it even tighter around her body.

  “I’m wearing slacks and a button-down shirt. Do you think I’m dressed nicely enough for this restaurant?”

  She pauses a second, studying my clothing. “Yes. You look great. I mean, hot. I mean…”

  I grin when she says I look hot. “And why do you think I’m dressed nicely enough to eat at this restaurant?”

  She studies me a minute and then shrugs.

  I sigh. “Because of the way I carry myself. I don’t give anyone the option to even think that I don’t belong in here. I’m going to eat here because it is one of the best restaurants in the city. I like splurging on the finer things in life. And I’m freezing my butt off. You can join me or not.”

  I turn and walk inside, hoping to God that she follows me because, more than anything, I want to torture this woman all through dinner. And then I want to torture her in my bed.

  6

  Olive

  I survived the death trap that was the car ride over here, only to learn it was a test. A stupid test. And it all could have ended if I had just said stop.

  That’s how Sean is going to play it. He’s going to throw test after test at me and hope that I give up and quit. This is all just a fun game to him.

  A game he isn’t going to win.

  Now that I know his game, he no longer has the upper hand. I’m prepared for anything now.

  I’m just not prepared for the stares as I walk into the most expensive restaurant that I have ever walked into. I’m wearing the dressiest clothes I own, but it still doesn’t feel like enough to be inside this restaurant.

  “Can I take your coat?” a man asks as soon as I enter the restaurant.

  I nod even though I don’t want to give up my coat. I want to keep wearing it because it hides the fact that my outfit isn’t enough. It’s far too cheap, and it shows the second that Sean’s coat is gone.

  Sean continues walking once inside, like he owns the place. Maybe he does.

  I follow but immediately feel everyone’s eyes go from Sean to me as we walk through the restaurant. When they look at him, they are in awe. When they look at me though, they are wondering why I’m with a guy like him. Even in slacks, he looks like he belongs while I look like…an assistant.

  I sigh.

  We finally make it to our table, a small circular one near the window that looks out at the city. We take a seat across from each other. I smile, trying to act like walking through the restaurant and getting stared at didn’t bother me.

  Sean smirks, and I know that he knows how uncomfortable I was while walking in here.

  The waiter comes over and looks at Sean. “Mr. Burrows, so nice to see you again. Would you like your usual?”

  Sean nods.

  The waiter then looks at me, a bit surprised. “And what can I get you? Or do you need a few moments with the menu? I can start you off with something to drink.”

  I know I need to make a decision quickly. That is what Sean wants. A decisive woman who is willing to stand up for herself.

  I glance at the wine menu in front of me. “I’ll have your house pinot grigio and…” I glance down at the menu and find the cheapest thing I can find. “The Caesar salad.”

  The waiter raises an eyebrow and then looks at Sean, like he is going to approve or deny what I just ordered. Sean and him exchange some kind of secret conversation that I’m not privy to.

  “Very good, sir,” the waiter says.

  “What was that about?” I ask after the waiter has left.

  “You come to the best restaurant in town, and that is what you order? A salad and cheap wine?”

  I frown and then lean back as waiters begin pouring us water, and a napkin is placed in my lap.

  “You know what my salary is. I can’t afford anything more.”

  He chuckles. “You think I would let you pay?”

  I feel the anger growing fast inside me. “Excuse me? Let me pay? I’m more than capable of paying for my own dinner, thank you.” I throw my napkin down on the table, not caring that I am making a scene. “You know what? This job isn’t worth it.”

  Sean stands and grabs my hand. “Stay. I’m just trying to push your buttons. It seems it’s the only way to get that fierce, sassy mouth to tell me how you really feel.”

  I frown. “You can push me without insulting me.”

  He nods and slowly sits back down while I still stand, towering over him.

  “I would love for you to have dinner with me. I’ll try my best to behave.”

  He grins, and everything inside me calms. One stupid grin, and I believe everything he says. I slowly sit back down.

  An appetizer platter larger than anything I have ever seen and a bottle of wine are brought out. My eyes grow large as I watch Sean taste the wine and then nod in approval. I can’t believe the amount of food that has been placed in front of us, and this is just the appetizer. The waiter pours me the red wine as well and then leaves us in peace.

  “I don’t like red wine,” I say, looking at the full glass in front of me.

  “You’ll like this one.”

  I frown. “I doubt it.”

  “Just try it,” he says, sighing.

  I take a sip and immediately say, “I don’t like it.”

  But it’s a lie. I’ve never tasted anything so smooth, sweet, and delicious as this glass of wine.

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “Fine. It’s delicious. Why do you have to be right all the time?”

  He smirks. “I like being right. So, you’d better get used to it.”

  “So, Mr. Right, what do you recommend I try from this appetizer platter since there is no way I’ll be able to eat it all along with whatever you ordered me for dinner?”

  He laughs and then says, “Try the squash blossoms. But I would try to make room for a bite of everything.”

  I sigh and take a bite of one of the squash blossoms. I close my eyes as the food swirls around my taste buds before I finally swallow. When I look up, I see Sean smiling at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Do you
know that you moan when you eat?”

  “I do not.”

  He laughs. “You just did.”

  “Well, that is because this food is delicious.”

  I take another bite and try not to moan, but I can’t help it. The food is the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. I keep my eyes open this time while I eat, staring intently into Sean’s eyes. He swallows hard, like he is struggling with something as he watches me eat, but I can’t imagine a man like Sean struggling with anything.

  I take a sip of the wine, and I watch his gaze shift from my mouth to my throat as the liquid goes down. It’s almost like…I’m turning him on. But that can’t be. He doesn’t find me attractive. I’ve messed up too many times for him to find me the least bit attractive. And it would be entirely inappropriate for anything to happen between us. He’s my boss.

  But the way he is looking at me tells me something different. It tells me he wants me. And the way my heart is beating in return tells me something that I thought was impossible to feel. That I want him, too. Strictly in a sexual way. After all, from what I can tell with his clothes on, his body is all muscle. I’d love to see what is beneath his clothes.

  I have a boyfriend though, whom I love deeply. I’m not going to throw a year away just so I can see what my boss looks like naked. I have to stop whatever is going on between us. Now.

  “So, should we talk business since that is why I am here? What would you like to discuss?” I ask.

  Sean smirks. “We don’t need to talk business. It would be a waste until I’m confident you have the skill set to be a leader. I don’t really think understanding how the company works is your problem. I’ll pay for you to take the realtor’s test, and I’m sure you’ll pass with no problem. Once you have the leadership skills, then we can talk business. That is the easy part to teach.”

  I take another bite of food. “Then, why am I here? I thought you brought me here to train me.”

 

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