by Sienna Grant
Untouchable
Copyright © 2021 by Sienna Grant
Editing: Caroline Stainburn, Word Wizard Editing
Cover Design: Eleanor Lloyd-Jones, Shower of Schmidt Designs
Formatting: Cora Kenborn
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Request: Copyright Approval” at [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The authors are in no way affiliated with any brands, songs or musicians or artists mentioned in this book.
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Contents
Untouchable
Playlist
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About The Author
Also By Sienna Grant
Author Links
Untouchable
I’m Roman Dean. Actor and model.
My job allows me to get into any club I want to, but also, the pick of any woman I desire. I wear that tag with pride.
That is until my agent decides that they’re not happy with my antics and I need a publicist to help clean up my act…
Cue Paisley Kennedy.
She’s the ghost from my past, the girl that was never pretty enough to hang out with us...
But have you ever heard of the ugly duckling syndrome?
Paisley has that in spades. She’s turned into a beautiful swan, completely knocking me off my feet.
I won’t lie, I want her.
Just one problem; she hates me.
Can we work together professionally, or do we mix business with pleasure and see where it leads?
Am I really as untouchable as I make out to be or will Paisley break down the barrier I allow no-one to see; the wall I keep in place to protect not only my career, but my heart as well?
Playlist
That Don’t Impress Me Much - Shania Twain
Love To Hate You - Erasure
Genie In a Bottle - Christina Aguilera
What Makes You Beautiful - One Direction
Never Too Much - Luther Vandross
I Think We’re Alone Now – Tiffany
You and Me - Lifehouse
You’re The Inspiration - Chicago
This Kiss - Faith Hill
Dirty Cash – Stevie V
She’s the One – Robbie Williams
Anywhere - Rita Ora
Little Things – One Direction
Took The Words Right Out of My Mouth – Meatloaf
When I See You Smile – Bad English
Chapter One
“Paisley. Get in here.”
My boss roared through his open door. I’m only next door to his office. He really didn’t have to shout like that, but for some reason he thinks it helps. Rolling my eyes, I pushed out my chair as I stood up and grabbed my notebook and pen from the desk. With a timid rap on his door, Edward Brantley looked up at me with a sigh and coaxed me in with a curl of his finger.
“You wanted to see me, Mr Brantley.”
I took a careful step into his office, he pointed at the chair opposite him as he picked up his coffee mug and placed it at his lips. He looked at me from over the rim, tipping it up and taking a drink. My gaze scanned his rather mismatched and dull office. The blinds were constantly closed, the walls were a wash of dirty off-white and his desk was a constant mess with papers strewn all over. I didn’t see him throw the newspaper in my direction, but it landed in front of me making a slapping sound on the desk. At least it dragged me away from my disdain of his surroundings. I wasn’t sure how anyone could work like this.
I joined my fingers together and lay them gently in my lap, waiting patiently for him to tell me what he wanted me for. His cup hit the desk with a thud, and he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, he rested them on his beer belly.
“Take a look.” He lifted his chin in the direction of the paper.
My eyes scanned the front of the paper but came up short.
“I’m not quite sure what I’m looking at, sir.”
He sighed and with a roll of his eyes as he opened the paper and slapped his hand down on top as he peered over at me.
“Turn to page five.”
As I flicked to where I needed to be, I knew exactly what I was looking at.
“Roman Dean. Have you heard of him?”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.
Had I heard of him? Had I ever?
“Of course, I have…”
“Good, because you’re going to be working for him.”
“Excuse me?”
My eyes widened at his statement.
Had I heard him correctly?
I’d known Roman when he was plain and simple, when he was just Roman Alexander. That was until his parents divorced and he took on his mum’s maiden name. He was the guy that had everything in school, even back then when we were sixteen.
Not that he’d ever have looked at me. No-one understood that my schoolwork and my grades were the most important thing for me. I was just the dork that had her head stuck in her books and never really had friends other than one. I was the one the popular kids used to copy their homework from. Of course, he wasn’t invisible. He always said he’d be a star, and here he was. My hands began to shake a little, so I placed them beneath my thighs and sat on them. I didn’t have the best memories of Roman. Not that he was a bully per se, his friends were worse, but it was the norm if kids didn’t fit in; you got bullied. You weren’t pretty enough, wrong hair colour, wore glasses or didn’t wear the right brand of shoes… then you were bullied. Unfortunately, I fell into all those categories. Now, I was about to come face to face with him again.
“You can’t be serious?”
“Why not?”
“B… because I’m not the kind of woman to be able to speak to someone like him, or even work for him. You don’t understand…”
I shifte
d my gaze to the colourless wall, just so I didn't have to tell my boss why I wasn’t a good fit, before letting out a sigh and facing him again.
Just like that, I relented. “Fine. What exactly will I be doing, Mr Brantley?”
“Public relations. It seems he’s backed himself into a bit of a corner. His agent rang us and asked for someone to keep him away from the bad press. He needs reverting back onto the right path, shall we say. You,” Mr Brantley said, pointing my way, “Will keep him on the right path.”
“Well, maybe if he didn’t keep being a dick, he wouldn’t get bad press.” I muttered under my breath.
“I read the papers, Mr Brantley, I know what he’s been up to.”
I glanced down at his picture again, all I could really see was Roman’s overly large hand because he’d tried to stop the photographer from taking a very candid snap of him by shoving it in front of the lens. I looked at his side profile. The only thing different to Roman Alexander from when I knew him to now, was his name and a much bigger ego.
“Then you’ll know how much he needs us; needs you. This is a big payday for us, Paisley.”
Us?
I lifted an eyebrow as he loosely used the term ‘us’ as himself.
“You as a person, but us as a company. This will put us on the map. I can see it now. Our name in lights.” He made the shape of an arc with his hand above his head describing the spotlight he thought he would be under. I could see the pound signs flashing up in his eyes as he spoke, along with that smug grin he wore. Edward Brantley would throw you to the sharks if he thought he could make an extra pound.
“Why me?” I sighed again, feeling the frown pulling across my forehead.
“Why not? I thought you’d jump at the chance to have your name linked to someone as famous as him?”
“It’s not that I don’t, but…”
“But?” Brantley impatiently urged; his eyes wide as he stared.
He obviously wanted all the gory details if he was even going to consider not making me take this assignment. I wouldn’t tell him though. Not if I wanted this job. I’d have to make sure that mine and Roman’s past stayed hidden. I could do this. I swallowed and straightened my back.
“But nothing. When do I start?”
He smiled victoriously.
“Tomorrow. You have an appointment with Mr Dean and his agent, Nicola Wilson. She will meet you in the lobby of the Waldorf Hilton at ten a.m. I want a full report.”
I stood and grabbed my notes, nodding at my boss. Not that I’d written anything down, it was all cut and dry.
“Can I take this?”
I picked up the newspaper he’d thrown to me earlier and waited as he nodded and shooed me from his office.
“Oh, and Paisley, full disclosure. You’ll be working closely with Mr Dean, so you won’t be required in the office.”
“Sir.” I gave him a small smile and pulled on the door, softly closing it behind me.
I dropped my notebook and newspaper on my desk, it made a slapping sound as I took my seat. My back hit the backrest with an oomph and I sighed. A niggle began in my head, just above my eyes. Removing my glasses from my face, I rubbed them, before shifting my fingers to circle my temples. Seeing it was only three p.m., I frowned. I could do with going home. I stood up and made the short walk to my boss’ office and knocked again.
“Come.”
Pushing down on the handle, I peered around the gap in the door.
“Mr Brantley, do you need me for the rest of the day? I’d like to be able to prepare properly for the interview tomorrow.”
“No, that’s fine Paisley. You can go.”
“Thank you. I won't let you down.” I assured him.
“I hope not.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence, dickhead. I thought to myself as I tugged the door closed behind me. I made my way back to my desk, picked up my bag from the floor, piled in my notebook, phone and everything else I’d need for this assignment. Including that goddamn newspaper.
Once home, the first thing I did was to drop my bag, pull out my phone and send a message to Lesley:
Do I have some shit to tell you!
I locked my screen and threw it down on my bed.
I’d known Lesley from junior school, and we were inseparable right through school and college. She was like me, a geek, that’s why we got along. We joined forces against the popular kids and kept to ourselves. I never understood why she wasn’t popular though, she had a figure to die for and blonde hair that framed her pretty features, while her blue eyes stood out from her paler skin. The only difference between that group and Lesley; she didn’t give a shit what they thought about her. The total opposite to me.
I stripped out of my work clothes and jumped in the shower, washing the day away. Once back in my room, I dressed in some leggings and a t-shirt, brushed through the knots in my hair and twisted it on top of my head in a messy bun, then I grabbed my phone again. I saw her name on the locked screen and smiled:
WHAT? tell me!! ~ Les
A laugh burst from me at her insistence, but she’d just have to wait.
I’ll tell you when you get home. I have to prepare for a meeting.
I locked the screen again and threw it down.
I opened the sliding door of my wardrobe and perused all the work outfits I possessed. I didn’t make tons of money, the company I worked for wasn’t the biggest name in London, so we often got overlooked. The fact that we'd been selected to represent Roman was a huge deal and Mr Brantley gave the assignment to me — even if it did mean working for one of the biggest dickheads, I could have ever had the displeasure of meeting, when we were younger. I saw his facade on TV and I actually wanted to tell him why I hated him so much. I can’t envy him for what he does, but if he knew that I’d been thinking about him it would just make that pretty head of his even bigger. Until now though, I’d never thought I’d get that chance. It's just my luck that I had to be nice to him because of my job.
Karma is a bitch!
I heard my phone vibrate a couple of more times and I knew it was probably Lesley, demanding that I tell her what’s going on, but I ignored her for now.
I dragged my hand across the blouses hanging in front of me…
Now, what to wear? If I was going to feel confident when I saw Roman for the first time in years, then I needed to look the part. I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror studying myself. I was quite plain in comparison to other women, but my brown eyes had a sparkle in them, and my dark hair shone as it framed my oval shaped face. With the right amount of makeup and the perfect outfit, my confidence would bloom.
Chapter Two
Trying to open my eyes was like trying to lift 1000 kg. Just how much did I drink last night? The bright light of the morning bled through the blinds and I had to squint to see anything.
“Fuck!”
Rolling my head over until it hit the other pillow, I grabbed the one I was just laying on and pulled it over my head. Flattening my chest to the mattress, I laid out on my front and closed the heavy weights that were my eyelids.
Just another hour… I thought.
As I drifted back off, a knock came on the door.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I mumbled against the pillow. “Fuck off.”
I didn’t open my eyes, instead I ignored it. The knocking soon progressed to banging. It was so loud it felt like it was directly against my head. My fucking head was throbbing. Getting a hold of the pillow between my fingers, I dragged the pillow away and tried to lift my head.
“Go away.” I mumbled incoherently.
“Roman, I know you’re awake.” Nikki’s voice filtered through the closed door.
A sigh left my lips and I let my head drop back down again. Nikki Wilson is my PA and a ferocious little pit bull at that. She hammered on my door again.
“FUCK. OFF.”
She was persistent, I’d give her that.
“Roman.” She bawled, “You’d bett
er be decent because I’m coming in.”
Finally, lifting what felt like barbells from my eyes, I opened them up and looked down at myself through the slits of my eyelids. I dragged my blurry gaze up my body and smirked. I was naked, but I’m always naked in bed.
“Course I am.”
The door opened, but I didn’t move position. My knee was lifted a little, as I lay half-and-half on my side and front. My knee hid my dick from view but if she wanted me to cover anymore, she could kiss my fucking bare arse; literally. With a smirk fixed to my lips, I watched the door. Her petite figure came around it.
“Fucks sake, Roman.” Her hands covered her eyes, and she turned away, giving me her back.
“What. You can’t see my dick, you’re okay.”
With a sigh of frustration, I grabbed the pillow and covered myself up.
“Better?”
She peered through her fingers before she dropped her hands.
“It’ll do. You need to get up. You’re meeting your new public relations agent this morning.”
“Fuck off, not today. I’m hungover like a bitch.”
Striding towards me, she stopped before she reached the bed and planted her hands on her hips.
“I’m sorry but that’s your own fault. You knew about this meeting, Roman. Now get your arse out of bed.”