Illicit Affairs

by Dixon

  “Ah, I see… nervous to meet the new boss as well, Ms. Archer?” Nate heard Red speak again, somewhere near the back, capturing his interest at potentially meeting his female subordinate here in the metal death trap.

  “I wouldn’t say nervous. Slightly peeved at the whole inconvenience of it all but certainly not nervous” came the sound of a young woman, a voice like vanilla pudding, sweet in the traditional sort of way, but the richness of her tone was utterly luxurious and warm. Nate had barely paid notice to what she had said, too absorbed by her sultry English accent.

  “Yeah, a lot of the chaps in the office aren’t looking forward to it. They heard this guy is a bit of a ball-buster,” Red retorted, making the corner of Nate’s mouth twitch to suppress a bemused smirk. Yes, it was true, he made all his personnel fall into line and preferred a more authoritarian approach in managing his fleet.

  “Hah!” Ava, he presumed, laughed a cold sound that made his lips straighten into a thin line. “I’m sure the boys will be just fine. Everyone knows that the Yankees are all talk and no action.”

  Nate’s ears pinned back at this, his already stoic expression turning frosty at the bigoted remark made by a woman who would need to be put in her place if she were to work under him.

  The elevator chimed and the doors opened upon the seventieth floor. Nate, being the first one out, charged up the corridor and straight towards the office he would now take over.

  His new office was situated at the far end of the department space, tucked away into the corner and encased in glass walls. After unlocking his door, the fluorescent lights flickered above the tiled ceiling before illuminating the spacious office. A large mahogany desk, with intricate carvings upon its front, sat at the front of the office, with several dark leather sofas at either side of the open space.

  Nate was silent as he placed his suitcase behind the desk and began opening the blinds around his new working environment. When they were open, he raised his brows and let out an impressed chuff through his nose at the panoramic views of London. However, the real impressive sight was when he opened his side blinds and saw the golden goddess sat at her desk—an impossibly beautiful face, the sunlight catching her hair through the window behind her and setting her locks alight.

  Ava Archer.

  She looked like a red exclamation mark against all the mundane black and grey suits in the office, sat there in that crimson dress that was almost too provocative for work—not that he was complaining.

  With a crack of his knuckles, he decided it was time to show Ms. Archer some of that so-called action she believed he would be lacking.

  Nate took long strides out of the office, approaching the desk of the young woman who was currently too busy playing with her hair to notice that her new boss was attempting to introduce himself.

  Lack of attention—not ideal for an assistant.

  The longer she continued absentmindedly inspecting her hair, the more Nate’s patience thinned until eventually his nostrils flared and he slammed his palms down on the edge of her desk.

  “Fuck me!” she squealed, her body jolting upright like that of a kitten getting spooked by a green vegetable, and her reaction almost managed to bring a smirk to Nate’s frosty face. Such an odd way to greet her new boss, he thought.

  “Ms. Archer, I presume?” Nate raised his brows and watched as Ava scraped herself from the ceiling.

  “Mr. Brooks, I presume?” she retorted sassily, causing Nate’s face to fall back into his signature stoic expression.

  “Correct,” he stated, pushing up from his knuckles and onto his fingertips, all ten digits pressed against her desk. “My office in ten.” He pushed off her desk and began retreating to his office, but not before addressing her over his shoulder, “Oh, and bring coffee, Ms. Archer.”

  Three

  Bring coffee?!

  Ava was furious with her new boss and they had uttered only a few words to each other. She had always gotten her father a coffee and it had never been a big deal, but there was just something about that condescending, smug, and misogynistic voice of her new boss, exaggerated by his accent, that made Ava want to pour the steaming cup of lava onto Mr. Brooks’s crotch.

  Preparing him a hot beverage from the coffee machine, she felt a hand upon the dip of her back that made her snap around to see a handsome smile beaming down at her.

  “Told you so,” Peter teased, leaning in to take the cup of coffee that Ava had just prepared for her boss before his touch lingered just that little bit lower, feeling across the band of her thong through her dress.

  Ava didn’t particularly care for Peter or his wandering hands, and frankly, he should know better than to flaunt their physical relationship while at work—such things were forbidden. She turned her head forward and gave him her icy shoulder as her finger jabbed the coffee machine again.

  Directly outside of Nate’s office, he could see Ms. Archer being a good little assistant, her heels punctuated by long strides as she stopped at the coffee machine while he sat scrolling through his emails. However, his attention paused on his assistant when Red placed his hand upon her lower back, cautiously close to her curvaceous derrière. They were far too cosy together for the workplace. Caring not to get involved with HR on his first day, Nate looked back down at his computer, his ever-expressionless face a constant state of winter.

  “Coffee,” Ava clipped, walking into the small office without knocking, much to Nate’s annoyance. The woman strode towards his desk like she was modelling the crimson dress upon her back, her stilettos clicking against the floor as her feet seemed to fall expertly one in front of the other. His eyes fell upon the coffee mug placed not onto his coaster but to the side of it, making his jaw twitch.

  “Ms. Archer, take a seat, please,” Nate said, extending his hand to the chair in front of his new desk. When Ava had sat down, Nate stood with his shadow towering over her like a dark cloud as he walked around his desk and closed the office door. “I thought introductions were in order,” he explained, the deep bass of his voice owning his newly acquired office space.

  Ava glared at the name plaque replacing her father’s, rolling her eyes behind her boss’s back like a schoolgirl being reprimanded by the headmaster.

  “It is my understanding that you are Mr. Archer’s PA and have been for the past few years, yes?” Nate asked, his voice sneaking up on his assistant causing her shoulders to jump slightly.

  “Legal secretary,” she corrected, watching him circle around her and the desk like a vulture. “But yes, I’ve worked alongside my father since I was twenty.”

  Her blue orbs watched as Mr. Brooks took his seat in front of her and crossed his arms with impeccably straight posture. She noted that he had the rosiest and fullest lips she had ever seen on a man before, his eyes so warm and yet his expression so cold like his face captured winter and summer into one season. He reminded her of a stormy day. A nice one. Even under the slight beard he had, she could tell he had a jawline for days, his face capturing the heart of Hollywood.

  “No prior experience of administrative, legal, or assistant duties?” He asked it like he already knew the answer.

  “No.” Has this twat actually read my résumé?!

  Her expression was glacial, however, her growing levels of annoyance with this man and his accusing tone was causing a small fire to burn in her belly. Sure, her father handed this job to her on a silver platter and his title and money fast-tracked her success, but she genuinely worked hard for her place here.

  “Hmm…” Nate’s eyebrows lifted; the corners of his lips turned down thoughtfully as he rubbed at his light beard. “It’s interesting,” he remarked, lowering his hand, “normally for a position such as your own, personally, I would hire someone with adequate exposure to the industry we work in.”

  He genuinely didn’t mean to cause offence with his opinion; their job was to defend, more often than not, criminals with a lot of money. That was something that he’d seen a lot of people, himself inclu
ded, lose sleep over. However, he could tell by the way Ms. Archer’s eyes widened slightly that he had wounded her precious ego—how cute.

  “I can assure you, Nathaniel, that I have been exposed plenty to this industry and that my skill set is more than competent for my role here,” Ava stated, crossing her slender arms and long milky legs. “I find it peculiar also that a man of your age and background has managed to get to the top of the food chain so early in life. I mean, how old are you, thirty?” The corner of her lips pulled inwards and popped a dimple in her cheek that made her look coy and pixie-like.

  There were many things about Ms. Archer’s statement that irked Nate: the fact she didn’t address her manager respectfully, the provocative way her ruby lips moved, and the teasing way she poked back at his own ego. He wasn’t enjoying this little game with his lesser and didn’t care to defend his Harvard degree in law.

  “Thirty-five,” he corrected. “And I think it would be more fitting if you were to address me as the rest of this department shall—Mr. Brooks or sir will be fine.” He gave her a curt smile and reached forward for the cup of coffee. At first, he was impressed that she somehow knew to get him a black coffee, but as he sipped the cheap and foul-tasting beverage, he lowered his cup with his nose scrunched up distastefully.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nate’s eyes snapped up at the titillating tone that Ms. Archer used for that particular phrase. The sarcastic and sassy attitude on her face wasn’t lost on him. His intense gaze trained on to her eyes, noticing the flames dance across her oceans, his stomach tensing slightly as an ache ran up his muscular thighs and the hand on his lap tightened into a fist. At that moment, Nate wanted nothing more than to bring this fiery woman to her knees, but the feeling was fleeting.

  “There is one more thing I’d like to discuss with you before you attend to your duties,” Nate said, watching as Ava casually relaxed back into her seat, raising her eyebrows to prompt him to continue. “I see on your contract that your start time is 8 a.m.…”

  Ava’s shoulders lifted slightly, her head shaking as she said, “Yes, and…?”

  “Well, considering you clocked in just before 9 a.m. this morning, I was wondering if there had been an error?”

  “My father has always been flexible with my working hours,” Ava disputed, showing a slight amount of annoyance as she uncrossed her arms and straightened defensively.

  “Yes, well, I’m not your daddy, Ms. Archer, and I would prefer it if you were in the office promptly at 8 a.m. every morning,” Nate stated, not a drip of amusement or emotion in his steel cold tone. He enjoyed the way Ms. Archer opened and closed her mouth as if her brain was struggling to load a comeback, and before she could whittle one up, he dismissed her. “That’ll be all. If you would like to return to your duties, I will email over today’s brief in due course.” He rose from his chair and walked towards the door to show that this conversation was over.

  For a moment, Ava couldn’t move, gobsmacked, irate, and frustrated with what just went down. No one had ever spoken to her in such a dogmatic way before and she didn’t like it one bit. However, she quickly composed herself, head held high as she walked towards her new boss without so much as making eye contact while exiting the office.

  “Oh, one last thing,” Nate called, causing Ava to halt and face him with her jaw clenched. “The best thing about being a Yankee is that you’re a Yankee.” He smirked, causing Ava’s nose to scrunch in confusion before the penny dropped just like her stomach and her face became a picture of horror.

  He had to admit, the cherry blossom upon her paling cheeks was a welcomed sight, but one he didn’t have time for as he shut the door in her face.

  “Aye, but you have to admit, he’s easy on the eyes, isn’t he?” Sam shrugged, her mouth latched on to a deli sub for lunch as she and Ava sat in their usual spot at the window inside their favourite cafe.

  “I don’t think there is anything easy about this guy,” Ava scoffed, sipping on her tea. “You should see the mountain of work he dumped on me this morning. He’s had me running around all day and there is no way I’m going to get it finished by home time.”

  “Awh, doll,” Sam soothed, her warm palm rubbing the side of Ava’s arm. “He’s just flexing his muscles, you know, asserting himself on his first day in the office. Just be grateful he doesn’t have a red room of pain just waiting to show you who’s boss!”

  “Yeah, well, he can piss off! We both know you’re the only boss of me.” She winked, glancing down at her wrist to check the time.

  “You got a meeting after lunch?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been checking that bloody watch constantly since we got here! It’s like yer shitting yourself you’ll be late for something,” Sam said with a chuckle.

  “Ugh, no. It’s just that sir”—Ava sneered the new term like a child—“pointed out that he’s tracking my time management and it’s bloody well pissed me off. I’m never late.”

  “Uh…” Sam opened her mouth to speak but then shut it again.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She scrunched up her nose and shook her head dismissively. “Anyway, work aside, how’s Pops?”

  “Oh, you know how he is; carrying on like he’s in his forties, acting completely right as rain, complaining about the walking stick and his wonky face.” Ava rolled her eyes but smiled. “Doctor says he’s recovering well though.”

  “Give him my love next time you see him, will ya?” Sam asked, always seeing Mr. Archer as a father figure more than a boss.

  “I will do; I’ll be heading up to the estate on Friday to check in on him.”

  “Oh, will Trinny and Susannah be there?” Sam teased, an ongoing joke that both of Ava’s younger sisters were like the famous fashion advisors.

  “Most likely.” Ava chuckled, looking forward to seeing her sisters. The three of them were very close ever since their mother divorced their father and moved off to some fancy villa in Spain with her toy boy partner. They rarely heard from their extravagant mother, but it was never a pleasant encounter when they did.

  “Is Heather still pining after Peter?”

  “Heather is pining over any man that has a heartbeat and cash in his back pocket, you know what she’s like.” Ava laughed.

  “Mhh, speaking of,” Sam prompted, swallowing her last mouthful of tea, “what is the script between you and the ginger ninja?”

  Ava lowered her brows is an unamused manner, her head shaking at Sam but her lips struggling to hide her amusement. “Nothing really…lovely bum and quite good in the sack, but we agreed we weren’t looking for anything long term—it’s just sex.”

  “You’re nearly thirty, love. Are you not thinking about settling down yet?”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” Ava chided with a small laugh. “But no, you know I’m not fussed about kids, and that the whole marriage thing just isn’t for me. Things are just simpler when there aren’t any strings binding you to someone, you know?”

  If there was one thing Ava feared most it was the idea of her stood inside a kitchen with a dinner plate as the man lived his life, brought in the cash, and controlled how much independence she had. She had seen what it did to her mother and look how that turned out.

  “So you’re telling me Auntie Sam isn’t getting any rug rats running about?”

  “Well, I am thinking about getting a pet,” Ava said, causing Sam to question what on earth Ava was talking about. “Yeah, maybe a nice rat or snake—could call him Nathaniel.”

  Four

  The following days had tested Ava to a hellish extent. The workload Mr. Brooks was dumping on her was highly unreasonable. Twice she had to cancel on Sam to work through her lunch and once she had to stay back past finishing time to make her deadline on preparing the documentation for the Forbes negotiation. It wasn’t that she couldn’t handle the workload, it was the fact that her new boss was dropping it on her last minute while he still disappeared for his lunch every day at midd
ay. Her father was always fair with her and they balanced the amount of work between them both. The American was all for making his life easier and Ava’s hell.

  She felt like she was being punished.

  By the time Thursday blinked into existence, Ava was both mentally and physically drained, her nails chipped from how ferociously she had been typing up draft motions and subpoenas, her patience thin with the intercom machine at the insane number of times Mr. Brooks would call her into his office to ask her a question he could quite easily have instant messaged her on her computer.

  However, one thing that came out of this hellish week was that Ava had noticed a pattern with Mr. Brooks. The man was completely unapproachable until he had his morning coffee in front of him. This would have worked well in her favour if her job didn’t literally revolve around needing to assist him in every way she could other than wiping his own arse for him. Therefore, she found herself willingly going into work earlier and earlier, partly to cope with the increasing workload, and partly so she could make her life easier, starting with his morning cup of joe on his desk every morning for him.

  However, this morning as Ava finished setting up her desk for the day, Mr. Brooks was already sat at his own. This put Ava in a foul mood before the day had even started, knowing that when she signed into her emails, there would be a list of demands from her boss jamming up her inbox.

  Resiliently, she stuck to her routine and made her way to the coffee machine across from Mr. Brooks’s office but stopped short before she reached it.

  “What the—?” Ava faltered, the coffee machine no longer in its rightful spot. “Hey, Addy, did someone move the coffee machine?” she asked one of the data clerks.

  “New boss got rid of it,” Addy replied.

  “He did what?!” Ava sputtered, looking at the blank spot where the perfectly good machine had sat for the several years she had worked here. “Why the hell would he get rid of our coffee machine?”