The child was quiet, simply rocking her legs and waiting quite patiently for someone so young—then again, maybe that was normal for a ten-year-old. It wasn’t like Chelsea had spent much time around children. She spent most of her waking hours working or thinking about working, which left little time for socializing, and even if she had spare time…she didn’t really like kids for the most part. Too noisy. Too messy. Too something people had if they were in a relationship, which she distinctly was not.
And damn, wasn’t she broody today? Sipping her coffee, she cast another glance at the kid and noticed she was poking at the dish of rocks on the table near the chair. Ah, her Zen rock garden. She’d collected the stones on a whim. Chelsea used to like that sort of thing when she was younger, and the pretty colors made her smile—but the kid seemed really interested. She carefully picked them up, one after the other, inspecting them with rapt attention.
“Amethyst,” Chelsea finally said, gesturing to the purple rock in the kid’s hand. It wasn’t like Aiden told her not to talk to her when he arbitrarily dropped her off in Chelsea’s office, after all.
The child looked up—what had they said her name was? Waverley? Was that even a name?
“Yes,” the kid said. “This is a really nice piece of amethyst. There is a cartoon with a character named Amethyst, and she’s a crystal gem. Are these your rocks?”
Ah, well, that was a regular conversation starter. Couldn’t hurt to chat a bit. She stood and headed over. “Yes, they are, and thanks for the compliment. Did you see the quartz point?” She pointed at a creamy translucent rock, shaped like a crystal.
“I sure did!” Waverley picked up the rock in question and considered it closely. “This is a big one.”
“Do you like rocks?” Chelsea asked, sitting down at the chair opposite Waverley.
“I do. I’m going to be a geologist someday. I’m going to travel the world and see all the best rocks.” The child’s chin came up in an expression so like her father’s that it could’ve passed for a paternity test.
“That’s cool. I used to want to be one myself. What other rocks do you recognize?” The child picked through the bowl, lifting up various rocks and identifying them on sight. She knew jade, rose quartz, and pyrite right off.
She pulled out an orange rock and scrunched her brow. “I don’t recognize this one.”
“May I?” Chelsea held out her palm, and Waverley passed her the rock. “This is carnelian. It is a member of the quartz family. One of my favorites, actually. I like orange.”
“Me too,” Waverley said with a grin. She was reaching for another rock when the door connecting Chelsea’s office to Aiden’s opened, and her parents came out. Her smile faded fast, squashed by the sight of the dark expressions on her parents’ faces.
Chelsea couldn’t hold her smile, either. His brief smile when he saw them faded, revealing a man shaken to the core. She knew he got anxious in situations where he wasn’t in control, and learning about a daughter he hadn’t known about for a decade would be enough to throw even a non-control freak into a panic, she guessed. For the sake of Waverley, though, she stretched her lips into what she hoped was a warm grin. “It was nice meeting you, Waverley.”
The little girl nodded and ran to her mother’s side.
“We’ll be right back,” Margo said. “I just need a moment to speak with my daughter.”
Chelsea didn’t miss the choice of words. Not our child. Well, Margo couldn’t be too fond of Aiden if she’d kept their kid a secret for so long.
Once they’d vanished out the door, Aiden dragged a hand through his dark curls.
The man was handsome, even when he was disturbed. It just wasn’t fair that he was that damn hot and that impossibly out of reach all at the same time.
Men like Aiden Kelley didn’t notice women like Chelsea Houston. Or, rather, they did notice them—for their usefulness in the business world, for their brains, for their ability to problem solve and deal with tricky situations. They didn’t notice them as women, which was kind of a bummer, since she couldn’t help noticing him as a man.
A very fine man, who would be a hell of a lot of fun out of his business suit.
Not that she would ever find out. In two weeks, she’d never see him again.
Speaking of…
“Mr. Kelley, I know this isn’t a great time, but I need to remind you—”
“We have to reformat my entire schedule.” He turned around and walked back into his office.
Okay, guess he expects me to follow him.
“Mr. Kelley, stop, I need to tell you—”
“Cancel all my meetings this week.” He sat at his desk and turned to his computer screen. “Any lunches. Any dinners. I can’t make them. I’m taking Waverley to the Grand Canyon. And I’ll need you to come along with me.”
She stopped cold. She knew nothing about kids, and traveling with her boss and his sudden child ranked really low on her to do list. She’d rather pluck out her own toenails.
Once she’d picked her jaw up from the floor, she said, “No. I can’t go with you.”
He tapped away on his keyboard. “Of course you can. I realize it’s outside the office, but it’s no different than any of the other duties you’ve accomplished during your tenure—”
“Aiden. I can’t.”
Her using his first name? That got his attention.
He turned away from his computer screen and looked at her. “Okay, Chelsea. Why can’t you?”
“Because, as already I told you today, I quit.”
Chapter Three
Chelsea
It took a real sucker for punishment to want to stay in the room and watch the awkward conversation between Aiden and his newfound daughter, but Chelsea was exactly that variety of fool. At least, she was until she became the topic of conversation.
Waverley stuck out her bottom lip, looking sulky, and her father said, “Your mother tells me you’re a rock hound. Would you explain that one to me?”
The kid rolled her eyes, shooting a glance at Chelsea as if to non-verbally ask, Are you seeing what I have to put up with here? Out loud, however, she just said, “It means I like to collect and categorize various rocks and non-precious gems.”
“Huh,” said Aiden, looking completely at a loss for a follow-up question. “So, uh, I saw you checking out Chelsea’s rock bowl. How would you feel about getting an up close look at some of those rocks by going to the Grand Canyon?”
Waverley shook her head vehemently and looked at her mom. “I don’t want to go on a trip with him, not even to the Canyon. I don’t know him, Mom! Why would I want to know him when he’s been too busy to come see me before this? Seriously, this is lame.”
He probably deserved that from her perspective, even if he hadn’t chosen to abandon her for most of her life. Thankfully, he bit back on his frustrations with Margo and instead focused on his daughter. “I’d really like to get to know you, though, Waverley.”
The child looked stubborn, and Chelsea didn’t blame her. “I’m not going to change my mind.” She looked away from both of her parents, as stubborn as her father. When she saw Chelsea, her face lit up, and Chelsea saw that same conniving smile that so often signaled Aiden knew what he wanted and wouldn’t be denied. “Hey, if I actually have to go to the Grand Canyon with you, does that mean Chelsea can come? I’ll go if she goes.”
She turned to Aiden, already angry at him, like he’d set her up, but to his credit, he was shaking his head. “That’s up to Chelsea.”
Wow. So the guy could think about someone other than himself. Maybe. If this wasn’t some genius strategy to get her to come along anyway.
“I just don’t see that being a good idea,” Chelsea said. “But tell you what? I’ll think about it. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go powder my nose.”
“What does that mean?” Waverley asked.
Not interested in how Aiden might reply, Chelsea made her exit swiftly. Shit. Well, by the time she returned, maybe th
e father-daughter duo would’ve abandoned her office, and she could get back to finishing out her two weeks in peace. Scrolling through her phone as she headed to the restrooms, she checked her email really quickly and then noticed a text message from her father.
Her dad? Was awesome. Chelsea was not a lot older than Waverley when her mom passed away and Chelsea’s dad took over as a single parent. And, well, he’d rocked at the job, even while Chelsea’s mom was still alive but sick. He’d been the kind of father who learned how to braid her hair so that she’d look as “pretty” as her friends. He’d let her polish his nails. Hell, he’d gone shopping with her on more than one occasion. Her dad rocked.
Comparing him to what kind of a father Aiden would become… Shit, the guy was in trouble. There was no way he’d ever manage to go from a perfect stranger to being the kind of father Waverley deserved—that any little girl deserved—without a lot of guidance and support.
But who would help him until he found his way and place in her life?
Not me, she decided. No way in hell am I signing up for that job.
There were about a hundred reasons she should back away quickly from the whole situation. For one, Aiden was her boss, but she’d told him she was quitting. And even if she wasn’t on her way out the door, mixing business with pleasure was always a bad idea. In this case, her time remaining with the company would be far better spent interviewing possible candidates for her job and then training the new hire. Not gallivanting off on a personal trip with her soon-to-be-former boss.
For two, she was already attracted to the man. She knew that and recognized the weakness it represented. Spending alone time with him, intimate time when the line between boss and employee blurred…unwise, to say the least. It would be one giant mind game with herself to continue to recognize that Aiden was not the man for her.
Even if he did have one of the best asses she’d ever seen in a suit. She couldn’t begin to imagine what those broad shoulders of his would look like out of said suit.
Well, hell, that was a lie. She could imagine and had spent many a bored hour between meetings doing just that.
Further, if she agreed to this trip, who would keep things going in the office? Just the day-to-day stuff in the interim would be enough reason for her not to leave the office, especially if he was out and off the map for the duration of his little adventure.
That last one seemed rather feeble, even to herself. But the one reason she couldn’t deny? Even if she removed every single reason why dating him was a bad idea, she was gone in two weeks. And as much as she’d love to taste his body as many times as she could before she left, she wasn’t about to rock a ship that had just taken on board his newfound daughter.
So, as she rested her hand on her office door, she braced herself to go inside. The answer was a no, plain and simple, nothing more to think about. She simply couldn’t afford to cave and agree to go on this trip with Aiden and Waverley.
She opened the door and saw Waverley looking at her father like he was nuts and him pouring the kid a cappuccino. The scone in front of Waverley sat untouched, and the child gazed at Chelsea as if she was a savior—come to rescue her from the inept handling of her well-meaning father.
“Whatcha doing, Aiden?” Chelsea asked, although it looked pretty clear. He was trying to offer his ten-year-old daughter coffee and a scone for lunch.
Although that same lunch would’ve been top ten on Chelsea’s list of lunch favorites, she somehow doubted—both from the kid’s expression and logic—that it was typically served to her at home or elsewhere.
“We’re about to have lunch. I was hoping you’d join us so we could revisit the Grand Canyon discussion.” He looked so damned adorable and unaware as he was fumbling that a piece of her heart melted, just a little.
I know I’m going to regret this.
“I’ve decided I’ll go on the trip.” Picking up her office phone, she glanced at Waverley. “What kind of pizza do you like, kid?”
Waverley smiled at her, placing the coffee cup carefully on Chelsea’s desk and only sloshing a little onto the shining, ass print-free mahogany. “Pepperoni.”
…
Aiden
Once Margo picked up Waverley, promising to bring her back on Friday with her bags packed for the trip and to call him for details in the meantime, Aiden tried to turn the day back to business as usual.
Then again, with Chelsea glaring at him, it was really hard to pretend nothing unusual had happened. He sat behind his desk, she was seated on the other side, and he carefully kept the laptop open between them to block her view of his face.
Not that it worked, but he was trying.
“Okay, regarding the Landon project…did we get the numbers back on that from Greg, or are we still waiting?” He was pleased at his tone—normal, businesslike, completely modulated. He could handle this. He handled everything else.
And to think, his biggest problem only days ago was that he was bored with how easy life had become. He’d trade his left nut to go back to bored, compared to the chaos in his mind at this point.
“Greg got us the numbers, and I have them in front of me. In one click, I can email them to you, and we can both go over them. But if you think for one second we’re not going to talk about me quitting before we get to work, you have got another thing coming, buddy.” Chelsea’s normally calm features weren’t calm at all.
If anything, she looked passionate. Filled with fire. Hell, if he were honest, she looked kind of hot, all pissed off like that.
Then again, his assistant never really lost her cool normally. She might get frustrated with him, but regardless of his shenanigans, she maintained a mostly calm demeanor. She’d never worn anything except for the same kind of suit, just in different colors, in all the years he’d known her. Did she own a pair of jeans? Did she have a pair of fuzzy slippers? What was the woman like when she wasn’t at work?
Why was he wondering about all of that now? Oh, yeah, because she said she was quitting. All the mysteries about her that he’d never really wondered about before might never be solved. To top matters off, he’d convinced her to go on a trip with him and his daughter that crossed the country. Well, he’d find out about the jeans, he was pretty sure.
“Are you ignoring me?” she asked.
“No, I’m pulling up the numbers from the ad campaign, because we do have a lot of work to get done today. All personal things need to be set aside, especially if we’re going to be out of the office for more than a week.” He tapped on his keyboard, but he wasn’t writing anything. He was just hitting the home row keys repeatedly, hoping to fool her.
“More than a week?” she squeaked. “I figured we would fly out there, maybe stay the weekend, and be back here for work on Monday. Yeah, we really need to talk about this so I can know what you have planned before you tote me across the country.”
He snapped his laptop closed. Okay, she was presenting a challenge, but he would win back control of the situation. “Chelsea, you will be paid well for doing this for me. If you insist, I will even agree to letting you leave your position early with full pay. That’s one week of service as my assistant, or my nanny, or whatever you want to call it. And then you’re done. I get that it is above and beyond the call of duty; however, I will make it worth your while. Don’t stress it. We’ll drive there. I’ll get to know my kid. You can play with rocks with her or whatever. This isn’t a big deal.”
She slapped her tablet onto the desk and, surprisingly, the screen didn’t shatter at the force of the impact. Without a word, she spun on her heel to head for the door.
He was up before he really thought through the implications of running after her, but he managed to snag her arm before she could make it out the door. It struck him that he’d never actually touched his assistant before. Well, he was sure they’d shaken hands at some point when he’d hired her, but he never touched her since then. The feel of her arm in his hand sent sparks up to his wrist. This was Chelsea.
<
br /> The woman he spent more time with than anyone else in his life, either personal or business. She was as close to a friend as he actually had, even if their relationship was strictly that of an employee and employer. Surely, she’d understand.
Then again, if someone had asked him yesterday if she wasn’t satisfied with her job, he would’ve said they’d be together until she retired. Showed how much he knew…
“Look, I should’ve said that differently. I’m sorry.”
He meant the words and wasn’t entirely surprised when she tilted her head back to look at him. “This isn’t my job. It never has been, and it certainly isn’t now that I’m gone in two weeks. I’m doing it for you and Waverley.”
How had he never noticed the delicate dance of freckles across her nose before? Her eyes, something he never paid much attention to previously, were a warm chocolate brown. She was close enough that he smelled a teasing bit of her perfume—something musky with hints of vanilla—and his pulse sped in a way that it shouldn’t.
Not for his assistant.
But he only said, “I get that. Thank you. I just don’t know how to connect with her yet, and I think it will be easier if I have someone familiar…” The word wasn’t quite right, but he shook his head. “With us. She likes you. I like you. Thank you for agreeing to come. When we get back, you can interview a couple of candidates, train one up, and I’ll release you from employment without further argument. I’ll get you a copy of the email when I send it to Margo with all the travel plans, okay?”
She gnawed her bottom lip, and his eyes traced over that tempting bit of flesh. If she were any other woman, he might kiss her to further coerce her to agree. But she was Chelsea, smart and savvy, and that kind of nonsense wouldn’t work with her.
Not to mention how quickly she’d storm to HR to report him for harassment.
He released her arm and leaned on the door, putting him in closer proximity to that tantalizing perfume she was wearing. It reminded him of candy—something delicious and decadent that would melt in his mouth as he devoured it.
The Irish Prince (The Billionaire Dynasties) Page 2