Personal Trainer

by Mia Carson

  Greyson was rough around the edges, but the flippant way he assumed she would handle his schedule, his coffee, his meals—hell, even taking calls from his mom when he wasn’t in the mood to talk to her—was pushing it. Last night, however, made her realize he was not the man she’d hoped.

  Tim told her that the designs and sketches she had were impressive and that she needed to show Greyson. He was probably making her his lackey because he didn’t realize her potential, but Belle knew he’d seen what she could do the first day they’d met. He chose to be silent, but she was finished playing this game. She might want a job here, but she wasn’t going to waste her talent by answering a phone and drafting e-mails. She had worked her ass off for far too long to be pushed aside by some hot-shot CEO.

  So yesterday evening, she sucked it up and waltzed into his office to show him all her work over the years. She’d waited quietly as he browsed through the portfolio before handing her laptop back to her.

  “And? What do you want me to say?” he’d asked as he leaned back in his chair.

  “I… uh, just wanted to know your professional opinion,” she’d said tightly.

  “They’re not bad,” he told her with a shrug. “Though they're nothing I could use and completely different from what’s going on at this company right now.”

  “You can’t even give me an opinion on them?” she’d asked quietly, her gut clenching.

  He’d smiled that predator grin and leaned on his desk. “You’re good at what you do now. Why do you want to change that? This is a great relationship. Maybe one day, you can do something with those, but right now, I’m not impressed.”

  He had lied. He had glanced away at the last sentence, and his eye had twitched. She knew he thought her designs were great. Her latest works blew even Tim away, but Greyson was too arrogant to admit that she had talent. He didn’t think an assistant like her could be anything more, even if she was working her ass off. Either way, she was sick of him and it’d only been a week.

  “Belle? Can you come in here for a minute?” Greyson’s voice echoed over the intercom.

  She gritted her teeth but pressed the button. “One minute.”

  Part of her hoped he had reconsidered. All day, she had given him the cold shoulder in the hope he would at least realize he was ruder than necessary yesterday, but as she stepped into his office, he didn’t even look up. Instead, he picked up his coffee mug and held it out to her.

  “Mind grabbing me a refill? And add some sugar. Oh, and I need you to call my mom and let her know I have to cancel my plans for this weekend. I have a date I can’t avoid.”

  The curl to his lips told her exactly what type of date it was. She’d heard enough rumors around the office to know what type of man he was with the ladies. He’d even flirted with her a time or two, though she’d pretended not to notice.

  Calling his mom? Does he really think I’m that desperate for this job? she thought, but another voice whispered in answer, what else are you going to do?

  Greyson tapped a few more keys before he glanced up and frowned. He was still holding his mug, and Belle hadn’t moved from the door to take it. “Belle? Did you hear me? Coffee and phone call, come on. I don’t have all day.”

  “No,” she said before she could stop herself. He might be damn good looking with his beard and rugged demeanor and a voice she could listen to all day long, but she had not taken this job to be treated like this.

  He set the mug down slowly and stared at her with one raised brow. “No?”

  “No. I came here to learn about your company and understand the ins and outs of what it takes to create an MMO and other games,” she said, taking a step forward. Her voice grew louder with each word as her annoyance spilled over. “I’m done playing your secretary.”

  “That’s what you were hired for,” he told her. “You were to work here as my assistant—”

  She argued, cutting him off. “The internship was to work with your team of designers and learn from them. You changed the job to benefit your needs! You’re selfish and arrogant and, my God, do you really think you’re so good at what you do that you can look down on everyone else’s hard work?”

  She yelled her last words, and behind her, she heard the subtle talk throughout the office fall silent. She should’ve stopped, apologized, and done what he’d asked, but watching him stare at her openly and smirk as if he was going to come out on top of this infuriated her.

  “You have this job for college credit, and you’re being paid a stipend,” he informed her simply. “Take it for what it is, do the work, and reap the benefits. I don’t see the problem.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t,” she snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like to come from nothing, to work up from nothing.”

  “You think you know everything about me?” he argued and pushed to his feet.

  Belle didn’t back down, and her hands fisted at her sides. “I know enough to recognize a self-fulfilling, arrogant bastard who can’t find the good grace to be nice!”

  “I have been nice,” he growled. “What have I done that wasn’t nice?”

  “Everything! The first time you spoke to me, you dismissed me like I was just some girl who happened to be working in your office!”

  “Aren’t you?” he shot back, and Belle threw her hands up in frustration.

  “No, I’m not, and you know that. You saw what I can do, and this is what you’re going to do with me? Have me get you coffee and call your mother?” She shook her head and laughed sharply. “Who the hell does that?”

  “I do because I’m the CEO and can do whatever the hell I want!” He leaned on his desk and glared steadily at her.

  The predatory look in his eyes revealed that he did always get what he wanted. His company was where it was because of that attitude. He had numerous female employees hanging around him all day at the office as he flirted, and he was wealthy enough to buy whatever he might ever desire. He treated everyone in his office with respect except her.

  “Is this because I refuse to flirt with you?” she asked quietly.

  He swallowed hard and straightened. “This has nothing to do with that.”

  “Sure it doesn’t, because you always get what you want,” she muttered. “Get your own damn coffee and call your own damn mother. I’m done playing games. I need serious work so I can learn and this place… you? You’re just not cutting it.”

  Her heart pounding and mind racing in disbelief, Belle stormed out of his office, grabbed her bag, and rushed through the office to the stairs because she didn’t want to wait for the elevator. She shoved open the door and made it to the bus stop just as it pulled up. As it drove away from the curb, she turned back to the office building. The romantic in her wanted to see him rushing out the doors to catch her, but he wasn’t there. No one came after her, and Belle sank down in her seat.

  The ride back to campus was short, but it was long enough for immediate regret to fill her about what she had done. She would have to call her old place of employment at the library and see if she could get her job back. Money would be tight again, and she would have no time to do her homework. Not that this internship really opened up any, but at least she felt like she was working towards an end goal. What if he told other companies about her blowup? They’d never hire a hot-head.

  She opened her dorm door and found her roommate there, working on her laptop across the room. Belle didn’t say a word, just stomped inside and flopped down face first on her bed.

  “What’s your problem and why are you home?” Carrie asked. “It’s the middle of the day.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Belle replied, muffled by the pillows.

  “Is that code for ‘I messed up big time?’”

  Belle shrugged and heard Carrie’s sigh. “Wasn’t my fault.”

  “Was it your temper?”

  She sat up and cringed. “It might have been part of it,” she admitted, playing with a thread on her comforter to avoid eye contact.r />
  Carrie closed her laptop and pursed her lips. “You want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know. Are you going to lecture me?” she replied. She had no family, no one except her friend Carrie. They’d met freshman year, and since then, they were like sisters. Though Carrie did like to pry into every aspect of Belle’s life, she did it for her own good. Belle liked having at least one person who cared about her, even if it was over the top.

  “You need a night out,” she decided and stood, clapping her hands together.

  “What? No, we have to work the gallery in the morning,” Belle argued, but Carrie was already buried in their small shared closet, tossing clothes out over her shoulder. “Seriously. I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”

  She turned and winked. “So don’t be hungover. We’ll just have a few so you can relax. You don’t do enough of that.”

  “I have too much homework to do this weekend,” she said, trying a different approach.

  “You’ll find the time. You always do.”

  “One of these days, I might not,” she said quietly. “Carrie? I really think I messed up this time.”

  Her friend stopped her puttering around their room and frowned. “Does this have anything to do with that smoking hot boss of yours that you’ve been drooling over all week?”

  Belle’s cheeks burned, but she nodded. “I don’t think I’m going to see him again—ever.”

  Carrie walked over and sat down on the bed beside her, giving her a one-armed hug. “Then you definitely need a night out, and I have just the outfit for you to turn some heads. Maybe you’ll actually have a little dessert… if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh no, you’re not hooking me up with anyone, not again,” she muttered and leapt off the bed. “The last time was a disaster!”

  “He tried to kiss you, and you freaked out and ran off,” Carrie argued with a laugh.

  “I wasn’t ready,” Belle stated firmly, though she didn’t meet her friend’s eyes.

  “One of these days, you need to be. I promise I won’t send anyone your way, but we are going out,” she said. “And you’re wearing your hair up for a change. I can’t stand it always covering your face.”

  Belle smirked and looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Whatever you say.”

  The workday came to a tense close around the office, but Greyson noticed everyone reporting to Davis’s desk to pick up their winnings from the pool. Fourth assistant in a month gone, and he’d had hopes for Belle. She had lasted a week. Managed to get him completely back on track, organized his damn office, and had a good head on her shoulders. The rest of her had been nice to look at all day too, but now she was gone.

  Just like all the others. They always leave you.

  He muttered at the nagging in his mind and left his office, flipping the lights off.

  “Where are you going tonight?” Tim asked as he walked to the elevator with Greyson. “Hitting the bars again?”

  “I thought about it,” Greyson said stiffly. “Could use a drink after today.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I think half the office heard her.”

  “Great, that’s perfect,” he muttered. “How much money did you win in the pool?”

  Tim barked a laugh as they stepped into the elevator and rode down to the parking garage. “What do you mean, won? I lost.”

  Greyson glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Why? You started this company with me, have known me the longest. Apparently it’s my habit to run through assistants.”

  “It’s your habit to run through women and push people away,” Tim corrected him. “And I don’t know. There was something different about Belle, a fire. I thought maybe she’d be able to handle your… uh, less than perfect qualities.”

  “Are you calling me arrogant?”

  “You’ve always had an air about you,” Tim told him honestly. “Nothing personal. You’re good at what you do and you know it.”

  Greyson tugged at his beard the rest of the ride down, and when the doors opened again, he stepped out, wondering what else his friend agreed with that Belle had said about him. “Am I that difficult to work with?”

  “You tend to forget about things, but you’re a busy guy. Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Tim told him with a slap to the back. “You’ll find another assistant.”

  “Not like her,” he growled and ran a hand through his hair. “She did things for me before I even had to ask. Hell, she even organized my office so I can actually find things now.”

  “And did you thank her for doing any of that? Did you thank her for dealing with your erratic mom?”

  Greyson opened his mouth to say of course he did, but shut it a second later. Over the last week, he had admired how quickly Belle did all the tasks he gave her, how she took the initiative to get him caught up on paperwork and kept his schedule running smoothly. One of those times he had to have thanked her, right? He knew she’d been upset the night she had showed him her work, but he was too worried about losing her as his assistant. In one week, she had worked miracles in his office. If he was honest, she would’ve gone straight to his design department or been snatched up by another company.

  “Grey? You alright?” Tim asked and waved a hand in front of his face.

  “No,” he said and stalked towards his Mustang. “No, I’m not. I’m going out for a few drinks.”

  “You going to pick up some women, too? Find one for me this time, would you?” Tim teased, and Greyson waved over his shoulder.

  He could be rough around the edges and not the most sociable person alive, but being tough was what got his business off the ground and he wasn’t going to apologize for that. During the ride home to his sprawling ranch, he replayed the conversation in his office. He needed an assistant, and when she was hired, he sent a message to Kelly saying he needed someone to help him. He hadn’t cared about her credentials nor why she was interning.

  And now she’s gone, he mused once inside his house. You lost your chance to get to know this woman like you wanted to. What is that? Strike three… four? How many times are you going to screw up?

  Greyson paced around his empty house, his steps echoing off the stucco walls when he reached his back patio and glared up at the night sky. Belle was extremely attractive, and there was definitely a fire in her, but a hardness as well, a trait he had always admired about himself. But arrogant? No one had ever told him that.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered to the night. “She’s gone and nothing she said matters.”

  But as he moved back inside and changed, ready for a night out in the city—a few rounds of drinks and maybe a woman or two to bring home for the weekend—he couldn’t get her burning eyes out of his mind. The way she stared him down fiercely, even when he tried to intimidate her. Belle was not a woman to push around. She was stronger than she looked, and damn, if he didn’t still want to find a way to get to know who she really was. As he stood in front of the mirror in his front hall, checking his looks one final time, he realized he couldn’t even recall her last name.

  “Some boss you are. No wonder you don’t have a damn girlfriend,” he told his reflection.

  A long time ago, he’d had one, and he’d hoped they would be happy together forever, but life didn’t work out the way he wanted. She was gone, and his heart was walled-off for good. He didn’t need a relationship to be happy. Not anymore.

  The bar was packed when he drove up with a line stretching around the building, but he slipped the bouncer a hundred and strutted inside, ready to prowl. Several women waved at him and called his name, but he merely nodded in their direction, not sure what he wanted yet.

  “What’ll it be?” the bartender asked, tossing down a black napkin.

  “Whiskey… neat,” he said loudly over the pounding music.

  The dance floor was filled with grinding bodies, and Greyson watched closely, enjoying the view of scantily clad women moving their hips and stretching their bodies to the rhythm of the t
umultuous music. He shot back his drink and considered venturing out there to see who he could find to dance with when a woman sat down heavily on the stool beside him and ordered a whiskey on the rocks. He turned, intrigued, to find a blonde in a slinky red dress which rode high up her thigh. Her red heels were strappy, and her breasts nearly hung out of the top.

  “Evening,” he said and held out his hand for hers. “Greyson Taylor.”

  “Veronica,” she replied and grinned, licking her lip seductively when he kissed the back of her hand. “Well, aren’t you the gentleman?”

  “I have my moments. You here with friends?”

  “I was, but they had to go home for the night,” she pouted, running her hand down his arm. “Care to keep a girl company?”

  The glint of lust in her eyes made his lip curl, and he ordered them both another drink, sidling closer until his hip brushed hers. “I think I can manage that,” he said. “I'm looking for a little company myself.”

  She talked in her smooth voice, but another woman’s words hit his ear and he frowned, glancing around to find her. He knew that voice well after only a week, and he wondered what she would be doing in a bar this crazy. Her voice grew louder, and he recognized her furious tone, except this was more urgent and fearful.

  “Greyson, what is it?” Veronica asked, resting her hand more firmly on his arm.

  He pulled away, shaking his head. “Not sure, sorry,” he muttered and pushed through the heavy crowd, following Belle’s yell.

  “I said get off,” she snapped loudly.

  “You can’t dance with me like that and expect to walk away,” a guy replied roughly. Greyson pushed past a few more people and found Belle with her arm in the grip of a tall, gangly man. “Come on, I just want a little fun.”

  “I said no! Get away from me, you creep!” She tried to pull her arm free, but the guy dragged her closer. Greyson growled in anger and stepped forward. His hand slammed down on the man’s wrist and gripped it tight enough to make him wince. Belle stared at him in shock. “Greyson?”