At the top of the stairs, I move my hand back around her waist and squeeze her hip. Pulling her close to me, I place my mouth close to her ear. “You did fabulously,” I whisper to her as we walk through the doors. Seeing the simple words make her smile and the goosebumps rise on her skin makes me elated.
The ballroom is lavish in its decor, done in tones of oranges and pinks, with silver accents. People are everywhere. Some guests are dancing in the center of the room, while others chat around tables scattered throughout the space or mingle in the open spaces. Servers zig-zag in-between guests with trays of champagne and platters of hors d'oeuvres.
I recognize several people with whom I do business, as well as a few acquaintances. I see Henry Matthews, one of my only friends, and I make a mental note to speak with him at some point this evening. He’s standing with a few women who, by the looks on their faces, are quite charmed by him. He catches my eye and holds up his glass in my direction and we nod to ONE another. I move Bella through the room and towards the bar area.
“Shall we?” I motion my hand towards the open bar area.
“Please?” she requests.
“Nervous?” I ask as we wait in line.
“I’ve just never been to an event this fancy. I'm not sure exactly how to act or stand, or anything.”
I laugh lightly. “You are doing a great job. Remember to relax; this evening is about fun. You're not here working.”
“But you're my boss.”
“No, Isabella, I'm your date for the evening,” I say.
“Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes as we step up to the bar.
Once we get our glasses of wine, I’m approached by a few heavy hitters in the industry and get sucked into conversation. With my arm still wrapped around Bella's waist, we talk about business, even against my wishes that tonight not be about work. Bella interjects with confidence when I stumble a few times trying to recall my schedule and helps me not look like a complete fool. She fends off a meeting for me and excels at holding her own. She smiles and shakes hands with the men as well as the women. While I’m speaking with one of my associates, she maintains a conversation with his wife. I lean closer to her and try to listen in on her conversation once the gentlemen in front of me have begun speaking to ONE another, and I’ve grown bored with their chatter over some unimportant ventures of theirs. Bella is talking books and small towns with one of the wives and I wonder how they arrived on that subject. When their conversation seems to stall, I steer Bella away and towards the dance floor.
“I don’t dance,” she whispers to me as if we’re conspiring together.
“That’s okay, just follow my lead.”
“Mr. Adams, I didn’t take you for a partygoer who enjoys dancing,” she says with a light laugh.
“Oh, Isabella, I’m not, normally. But tonight, I feel like showing off my lovely date.”
Without giving her more time to refuse, I take her hand in mine, spin her out, and then pull her back into my body. She almost crashes against me but manages to right herself on her feet quickly. My right hand is on her lower back, just above her ass, and my left holds her hand out to the side. She looks at our feet between our bodies as I move us around the floor.
“Eyes up here,” I instruct her.
“Is this where you tell me that this is my dance space and that is yours?” She smirks.
“This is where I get your undivided attention.” I smile, thinking she’s cute for referring to the 1980’s cult classic, Dirty Dancing.
She cocks her head and studies me, as if all her questions might be answered by observing me.
“You’re acting different. Why?”
“I’m acting the way I normally act with you,” I reply simply.
“No, you’re acting… different. Softer. I'm not really sure, but it's definitely not the usual you.”
“We're not at work; we’re enjoying an evening out,” I reply.
“C'mon, Ben. You ask me to give it to you straight, so I'm asking the same in return.”
I sigh, press my chin to her temple and pull her closer as I turn her in time with the music. “I’m tired.”
“Oh, if you’re tired, we don’t have to stay. You can have the car drop me off.” She tries to pull away but my grip on her is tight and I won’t let her interrupt our dance.
“I’m not tired in the sense of being exhausted.” I pull my head back and look at her beautiful face. Her eyes are full of curiosity.
“Then I’m confused.” She shakes her head, and looks into my eyes to try to decipher my thoughts.
“I’m tired of avoiding my feelings, my thoughts, about you in the way that I want. I’m tired of pushing aside my desire for you.”
“Wait, what?” She angles her head, her eyes curious.
“You,” I say quietly, leaning into her.
“Oh.” She's surprised.
“Isabella, I've wanted you since you first walked into my office and tried to shake my hand. I've wanted you every day I've known you. No one talks to me the way you talk to me, and I don't talk to anyone the way I talk to you. You are my desire. I'm tired of hiding that from you. I want you, that's what I mean. I've held back and kept my mouth shut, but I'm finding that I can't any longer.”
“Ben, I'm not sure it's wise to mix business with pleasure, especially since you have the power to fire me. Or because it would look bad with the other staff.”
“I respect that and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. I mean, I’m sure if you don’t return the same feelings, this can be really awkward.” Shit, did I just mess this up? “I don’t want you to do or say something that you might regret. But I urge you to consider the possibilities. Business and pleasure can be two separate things. Besides, I have no reason to fire you; you’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. If you want me to forget this, then I will, but believe me when I say that I don't want to,” I say quietly.
“You’re my boss, Ben. There’s probably something forbidding fraternization in the employee handbook.”
“There isn’t.”
“Ben,” she says in a warning tone.
“Bella,” I retort. “Just consider it.”
“You're an HR nightmare.” She laughs.
“Does that mean you'll consider it?” I ask with hope.
She smiles and leans her head on my chest as we continue to dance.
I'll take that as a yes.
Chapter Five
Bella
Since I started working at Adams Enterprises three months ago, I put my social life on hold. This job has become important to me for some reason and, strangely, he has become important to me as well. He's my boss and he shouldn't be important to me on a personal level, but there's just something about him that draws me in.
He can be a complete animal and everyone warned me from the moment I started at Adams Enterprises. However, he's different with me. He's softer, he listens and he genuinely seems to care. Yes, I've seen him single-handily fire an employee – likely for looking at him – but overall, he’s misunderstood.
I came to Hollybrooke for a change of scenery. I was the quintessential small town, farmer’s daughter seeking adventure in the big bad city, the girl who always stuck out in the small community where I grew up, some two hundred miles from here. I grew up learning the ropes of farm life with my older, and much more country-fied brother. My father intended on the both of us looking after it once he was gone, but I had different ambitions in life. My ambitions didn’t include tilling the soil, feeding the hogs, or picking the fruits adorning the trees that filled half our property. I worked for a few businesses back home after school, so I had office experience and some experience in dealing with high powered men, or as high powered as one can be in our small town. I left few months ago to seek this adventure, not knowing what I was looking for until I set foot in Benjamin Adams’ office and held out my hand to him.
The shock of Ben asking me to accompany him to the gala took some time to soak in. I was hesita
nt to go, in fear that my job would be in jeopardy if I did go by the publicity that would likely come from the two of us stepping foot outside the office together. But then I thought about it a little more while he was making his arguments and I figured maybe I should live a little. Going to the gala could be part of my adventure.
So, I went, and it was a grand affair. I've read about galas in books and now I can say I've been to one. From the blinding lights of the press when we arrived, to the conversations with the wives of Ben's associates, to the dancing in the glamorous ballroom, it was an overall grand evening. The most surprising thing of all was Ben's confession.
Since meeting him, I have fought against having any inkling of feelings for him. But then he broke the dam. Suddenly, he was all I could think about.
Dancing with him at the gala felt like a scene from a movie, with his strong arms holding me, and his confident frame leading me around the dancefloor with ease. He made me feel graceful in his arms. He made me feel cherish, with his silky, yet raspy, voice as he tells me how he feels about me and yet gives me the choice to accept or decline his offer. To decline him. The way that he brushed stray hairs off of my forehead at the end of the night when his driver dropped me off at home and squeezed my hand as he leads to me my door. He stayed a true gentleman and kissed my hand rather than pressing me against the door when he dropped me off, which, honestly, I wanted more than anything deep down in my gut. I want him. This I know. But can I toss out everything that I was taught in regards to professional life and personal life being separate?
As I was getting ready for bed, he sent me a text saying that he enjoyed the evening and to have a good weekend.
A good weekend?
How am I supposed to have a good weekend when my mind is racing as if it's on the Autobahn and I'm picturing my boss naked?
I'm sitting at a café close to my home with my friend and neighbor Felipe on Sunday afternoon. I've dished about my concerns regarding what Ben has proposed and described everything from Friday night in detail. I sip my cappuccino as he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought.
“Oh, mija,” he starts, exaggerating his Latin accent for dramatic effect, while leaning forward as if we're planning a bank heist. “Don't you know you need to live a little? I mean a little dick, even boss dick can do someone good. It sounds to me mija, that he’s willing to overlook the hierarchy here if you are.”
I smile at Felipe and his deep-seated belief that everyone should live big and ignore all naysayers, and lean back in my chair.
“This is my first real-world job in a big city, I’m not working for my dad shoveling hay on my family’s property. I may be naïve in some areas, but wouldn't getting involved with my boss be an issue?” I ask, setting my cup down and fiddling with the handle.
“Not if boss-man isn't,” he tsks.
“That's horrible advice,” I snicker. “He's a guy and could very well just want to get laid,” I add with disdain.
“Then he wouldn't be risking getting involved with you. Listen, mija, I've seen pictures of your boss; he's a looker. And he’s rich and powerful. If he wants to snap his fingers and have someone service him, he certainly can,” he says, as I make a face. “Sorry, mija, it's the truth. But it seems he would rather have you service him.”
I wad up my napkin up and throw it at him. “You're not helping,” I say with a giggle.
“I'm a guy. I'm giving you a guy’s point of view.” He smiles.
“You're a guy who dates guys,” I retort.
“Like there's a difference.” He rolls his eyes.
“So, what you're saying is that I should do it?”
“If by it you mean the horizontal mambo, going to pound town, spray painting the cervix, loading the clown into the cannon, then fuck yes. Wait, no he looks like a strong powerful man. You’ll definitely get nailed to the wall.”
“Well, thanks for adding that to my imagination.” I groan. Not like it isn’t an intriguing thought. Nope, not at all.
“That's what I'm here for.”
The beginning of the week, Ben is out of the office. He’s gone to the coast looking at developments. We communicate a few times a day about work matters. Ben doesn't bring up his proposal and I don't either, which gives us a few more days of avoidance. I have thought long and hard about the pros and cons of getting involved with him and maybe Felipe was right. Ben wouldn't take the risk if it was just a fleeting moment of carnal weakness. There must be more to his attraction.
Chapter Six
Benjamin
I’m out of the office for the first half of the week, traveling to the coast to look at some real estate for a new office location for an expanding division of Adams Enterprises. Even though the trip was a let-down because I found nothing particularly to my liking, I did stay at a lovely hotel overlooking the ocean and took time to do absolutely nothing, which I've never done.
Doing nothing proved dangerous, however. It left me with thoughts of the past, depressing thoughts that I’ve hidden for years by keeping busy.
Nine and a half years ago, I was twenty-four and had just graduated college during the winter ceremonies with a business degree and a minor in electrical engineering. I was set to start a new company with my college-friend Elliot, when I was called home because my parents were in an accident. My parents were at a ski resort on their anniversary, when the cable line on the ski lift they were riding suddenly snapped and they plummeted to the ground. They were killed instantly when part of the apparatus landed on top of them. It was a freak accident.
In an instant, I went from an excited college graduate to a mourning son and family business heir. My father's will had specified that I would inherit his technology business and I would sit at the head of the table. I tried to argue with his lawyers and get stockholders or a board to take it over, but the instructions were ironclad, so I had to abandon my start-up with Elliot.
I dove in right away, trying to learn the business. Even though I grew up in the company, I had a lot to learn. At that time, I hated life, I hated the company, and I definitely hated that I suddenly had all this responsibility I didn't ask for. Running the company provided a constant reminder that my father was gone and my life was no longer what I wanted it to be. As a result, I acted like an entitled child.
I was prevented from starting up the dot-com company with Elliot as we had planned. Instead, I had mergers to broker, I had new ideas to cultivate, and I had to learn my father’s business all over again. While I understand technology and the way that electrical components play a part, standing at the helm and steering the company was a whole new set of skills I had to learn. Adams Enterprises was not just a creator of home systems, of all things home technology, it had become a nationwide leader in several tech fields. I took night classes to expand my business management knowledge and I eventually became the leader I needed to be. But in time I became a different person.
Renae – my college sweetheart-turned-fiancée – did what she could to encourage me and keep my spirits up. But as hard as she tried to get my attention, I closed myself off to her. I was an only child, my parents and I were close, and I’d spent my summers interning at Adams Enterprises. Everything felt tinted by the loss; my world was ruined.
I don't blame Renae for what she did. We were young, and I ignored her. I took the emotional support that she offered me and gave her nothing in return. Looking back, I see that things should have just ended before she chose to cheat on me, but I give her credit for not wanting to add one more heartbreak to my plate. After all, I only became aware of her cheating on me after she died a year later in a car accident.
When I return to work, I have no extra pep in my step. When I walk through the building lobby and into the elevator, I am sure as hell am not cheery and recharged, as one should be after staying in a beachside hotel for three days.
I ignore all the people in my path and walk straight into my office, even ignoring Bella, who promptly gathers a pen and notepad and follows me into
my office. She waits silently as I remove my coat and place it on the coat hook behind my desk. I turn around and unhook my cufflinks and roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt to the elbow, showcasing the lower portion of my sleeves of tattoos. I sit down, bring my computer to life, and fold my hands together in front of me on the desk.
Bella’s eyes widen at my colorful forearms on display for her and it hits me that she didn’t know that I have tattoos. It's a fact about me that no one at the company knows, a personal expression that I don't share with employees.
“So colorful. I wouldn’t have expected you to have tattoos,” she says.
“Most of them I got before… well before I took over the company. Some of the elements I got in more recently.” I catch myself before I share too much.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispers, looking away. “You're beautiful,” she mumbles to herself.
“So, what do we have today?” I ask, tapping my hand on the desk and wanting to change the subject.
Right as Bella opens her mouth to respond, Maggie bursts into the office, eyeing both of us suspiciously. She regards Bella with a simple nod and then focuses all her attention on me.
“Ben, a word? In private,” she says slowly.
“Bella, would you please excuse us? I'll call for you when I'm ready to figure out the remainder of the week,” I say evenly. I’m annoyed by Maggie’s interruption; no need to take it out on Bella.
Maggie watches Bella leave my office and then walks to the door and closes it.
“Benjamin Adams,” she starts. Not a good sign when she uses my full name. “Is there something going on between you and Isabella?”
My tone reveals my annoyance when I reply, “What the hell would give you that impression? The fact that she's taking notes like she does every day in my office?”
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