Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods Book 5) Page 7

  “You need to start today, Miss Shaw. We fly out at three. Pack for two nights.”

  She sucks in a breath. “Today? But—”

  “No buts. I need you to start today. I’ll have Trevor fetch you at twelve at your apartment.” I gesture to my vehicle. Trevor is behind the wheel. He waves as if on cue. “Be ready,” I warn.

  She nods once. “I can do that.” I can see she’s panicking internally.

  “Excellent. Be sure to sign the offer and the rest of the documentation. HR is waiting for them.”

  She narrows her eyes. “You were so sure I would accept?”

  “I can be persuasive.”

  “I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”

  “I’ll see you a little later.” I turn and head for my Rolls Royce. I can’t help the smile that forms on my face. That was more fun than a takeover. More fun than a shiny, new acquisition. I’m buzzing. I have a feeling that Miss Shaw isn’t going to be a pushover, and I love a challenge. I just have to keep my hands off her, which is going to be the biggest challenge of all.

  9

  Ashley

  What was I thinking?

  I can’t do this!

  I can! I have to. I was nothing but honest, and Mr. Bolt still wanted me on his team. I feel my cheeks heat when I think back to how I blurted my attraction to him. It didn’t come as a surprise to him. I’ve never met someone that arrogant before. So utterly sure of himself. I guess a guy like him would be used to having women throw themselves at him all the time. Even my mom was completely taken aback by him. She giggled like a schoolgirl when I returned to work. Her smile didn’t last, since I had to tender my immediate resignation. Even though my dad was upset, I could see the relief written all over him. He told me I could get my job back at any time, but that isn’t true. Buns and Breads is in real trouble.

  I need to stick it out and make it work. Maybe my attraction to my boss will ease off the more time I spend with him. Especially if he’s as difficult as he says he is. I’m not normally attracted to arrogant asshats who think the world revolves around them. The kind who sends drinks over at the bar because they assume you’ll accept. The kind who ends a date with your ‘place or mine’ because they’re so sure you’ll sleep with them.

  Bring an extra pair of panties to work and you’ll be just fine.

  So crude. So sexy. Oh, my goodness! I’m panicking again. I must be crazy. Then again, I’m a grown woman. I can control myself. I can control my emotions. I’ve got this. It’s an opportunity of a lifetime. I can just feel it. I did the math, and all I need is one year. If I can stick it out for one year, I’ll have enough money to purchase all of the equipment we need to mass-produce our best-selling products.

  I can feel my heart thumping in my chest. My palms are sweaty.

  “Everything okay, Miss Shaw?” Trevor asks me for the second time.

  I nod. “Yes, thanks. First day jitters.”

  “He’s not so bad,” Trevor says. “Bolt is a good guy deep down inside. Don’t let him fool you. If you keep that in mind, you’ll do just fine.”

  “I have to say, he’s been nothing but nice.” I think back to how he loaned me his jacket this morning. That wasn’t the action of an uncaring asshole.

  I look up in the rearview mirror, and Trevor smiles at me before his eyes move back to the road ahead. “There’s bottled water in the center console next to you…just open the lid.”

  “Oh…thanks.” This car is unreal. I was almost too afraid to get in, in case I broke or dirtied something. It’s all white leather and chrome, with gleaming wood finishes. It’s huge. I can stretch out my legs. I open the console and have to hold back a gasp. The advice Candice gave me when I called her earlier was to fake it. After screaming with excitement for half a minute and hurting my ear, she said, “Fake it till you make it.” It was good advice, and I think I’m overreacting to a fridge filled with still and sparkling water…the kind in glass bottles. They look imported. I think they’re French…or maybe Italian. I’m not sure. There are also little bottles of champagne. If I gushed over a refrigerator, I wouldn’t be taking her advice, so I take out a bottle of still water and close the lid. Cool and calm!

  The rest of the drive goes by quickly. It feels like minutes, and we’re pulling into an underground parking area. Trevor drives up to the glass doors. I can see an elevator through the doors.

  “Sit tight,” he says to me as he unbuckles his seatbelt and walks around the car. Then he’s opening the door and helping me out. I lean back in, almost forgetting the box of cupcakes my mom insisted I bring along for Mr. Bolt.

  Trevor opens the trunk with the click of a button. It slowly lifts. He takes out my wheelie bag. It’s small but suitable since I don’t have much in the way of business attire or eveningwear. I am wearing the same black suit I used for my interview, just with a different blouse. I have a fresh chemise packed, but will need to recycle the suit, so I have to be careful not to get it dirty. Maybe they do laundry at whatever hotel or BnB I’m staying at. I packed the powder blue dress for tomorrow. I have one dinner dress. It’s black and plain. The low, black heels I have on will have to do. I’m so unprepared it’s scary.

  “You’ll be fine…just breathe.” Trevor smiles at me. It’s warm and friendly. “He doesn’t bite. You’ll see.”

  I manage a smile and push out a deep breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “Thank you.”

  “Can I help you with your bag?” He looks down before locking eyes with me.

  I shake my head. “I’ll manage.”

  Trevor hands me a keycard and an ID tag. I do a double-take when I see my picture on the tag. This place is efficient. “You will need to display the tag at all times when in the building. This card will get you to the top floor. You’re authorized to be able to enter all areas of the building.” He gives me some basic instructions on how to operate the elevator and where to go. “Are you sure you don’t need me to escort you?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He looks relieved. “I’ll be back in an hour to take the two of you to the airport. I need to refuel and take care of an errand for Bolt.” Then he walks back to the killer car. I’m sure it cost more than my whole apartment, including the furniture.

  I notice that he calls our boss…just plain Bolt. No mister, no first name…just his last name. I wonder why. Are they friends? Has Trevor been working for Mr. Bolt for a long time?

  I brush those thoughts aside and head inside. I can’t believe this is happening. I’m excited and terrified all at once. Not so long ago, I was a simple pastry chef, and now I’m the personal assistant to one of the most powerful men in the country. I googled Steven W. Bolt between packing my clothes this morning – not only pictures of him this time. I wish I hadn’t. I’m feeling intimidated now. He’s not just any old businessman. He’s a billionaire and a ruthless, extremely successful entrepreneur. According to a well-known women’s magazine, he’s one of the top three most eligible bachelors in the world…and he’s my direct boss. I take deep breaths, closing my eyes, trying to calm myself down.

  I can do this!

  The elevator doors slide open, and I make my way down the hall and into the office. I look around, not sure what to do. I’m guessing that the empty desk to the side is mine. Mr. Bolt’s office door is closed. Do I make myself comfortable or knock on the door? I’m contemplating my options when the phone on the desk starts to ring.

  Shit!

  I set the box of cupcakes down on the desk and stare at the ringing phone. I’m not sure what to do. I can’t just let the phone ring, though. It’s my job to answer, and I’m technically on the clock. I pick it up. “Zeus Group, good afternoon.” I hope I sound relatively confident, even though I’m not.

  “Put me through to Bolt,” a deep voice on the other side says. I must be extremely nervous because goosebumps break out on my arms, even though the temperature is perfect in here.

  “Who can I say is calling?”

  �
��This is urgent,” the voice says. “Put me through right away.” The person on the other end is abrupt to the point of being rude.

  “I’m afraid I need to know who’s calling, please. Mr. Bolt is in a meeting right now,” I lie. It’s not like I have any other option.

  The door to Mr. Bolt’s office opens, and he saunters through, his phone to his ear. “That so, Miss Shaw?” I can hear him both through the receiver and in person. No wonder the voice gave me goosebumps.

  “It’s you,” I say, putting the phone down.

  “Do you make a habit of stretching the truth, Miss Shaw?”

  What? My mouth opens and closes a few times, and I feel heat blossom up my chest and neck until my face feels like it’s on fire. “No. Not at all.” I sound irritated. I feel irritated. The nerve! At the same time, he’s right. I lied on my resume. I might have come clean in the end, but that doesn’t change the fact that I lied initially.

  “I’m not tied up in a meeting,” he elaborates when I don’t say anything.

  “I couldn’t just put someone through to you. A – I didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, and B – I don’t know how to transfer a call. It could have been important, so I didn’t want to leave it to ring either. I had to think on my feet.”

  “You did exactly the right thing. Well done, Miss Shaw.”

  “You were testing me?” I sound incredulous. I can’t believe he would do that. “Are you planning on testing me more often?” I’m not sure I like it.

  “It’s a distinct possibility.” He slides his phone into his pants pocket and takes out an envelope, which he hands to me.

  I take it. “What is this?”

  “It’s a credit card. Sign the—”

  I frown. “Why do I need a credit card?”

  “It’s for business expenses, Miss Shaw. You will need to keep all invoices and receipts. It has a fifteen-thousand-dollar limit, which—”

  “Holy fudge nuggets! That’s a lot of money.”

  “I was going to say, if it isn’t sufficient, it can be increased. From time to time, I will ask you to purchase items on my behalf. There may be business-related travel expenses. Trust me, you’ll need it. Send the invoices and receipts to the accounts department every Friday so that the funds can be transferred back into the account. If you can’t make it through the week, speak to Trisha from accounts so that she can forward you the relevant documents to have the limit increased. Got it?”

  “Um…yes.” I cannot see myself blowing through that much money in a week. No way. I nod anyway.

  Mr. Bolt walks over to my desk. He opens the drawer and takes out a small laptop bag. I’m assuming there’s a computer inside. “It’s new. IT transferred all of the relevant information off of Janet’s device and onto this one.” Then he takes out a white box, placing it next to the bag. I can see that it’s a brand-new cellphone. “I need you to be available twenty-four-seven. I travel frequently, which means you will be required to travel too. I don’t want you running up your personal account. Use this for everything business-related.” He taps on the box. “Neither of the devices has a password…you will need to set them up yourself. Please don’t use 1234 or your birthdate. You will be privy to information that needs to remain private, and in some cases, top secret.”

  “Oh my gosh, are you saying I could be hacked by your competition?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Did you get the contract back to HR?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He rubs his chin. “You signed our standard NDA?”

  “I did.” I am now starting to understand more and more why I would need to sign a document such as that.

  “I’m having Legal draft something a little more comprehensive, but the standard non-disclosure will have to do for now.” I see he’s thinking it through. He locks eyes with me. “I have a couple of basic rules you need to be aware of.”

  I nod, keeping my eyes on his. “Should I take notes?” I ask.

  “No! They’re basic and easy to remember. I need your best. I want your all, Miss Shaw.” He pauses for half a beat. “I don’t accept half-assed. Secondly, I’m very private. The two of us will spend a lot of time together. My life is no one else’s business…not your best friend’s, your mom’s, your neighbor’s, and certainly not the press. You don’t talk to the press unless instructed to do so by me personally.”

  “Understood.”

  “You may not talk about anything that goes on in this office or on our trips. That goes for work or otherwise. My personal life is my business.”

  “I completely understand.” I realize that my hands are tightly clasped in front of me and let go, smoothing my skirt.

  “I mean it. Things like what I eat. The brand of cologne I prefer. Where I have dinner. Who I have dinner with.”

  I’m nodding as he says each thing.

  His eyes narrow slightly, boring into mine. “Who I fuck, Miss Shaw. How often I fuck them. How many times they come. Whether I buy them dinner first or not. Whether I see them again afterward…”

  I can’t breathe. I can barely think. My heart is going nuts in my chest.

  “It’s all my business and mine alone.”

  I swallow thickly. It sounds loud. I lick my lips, which have gone bone-dry. “Of course.” My voice is high-pitched. “I get that. I do.” I try to force myself to stop talking, but it doesn’t work. “I won’t say a thing. I promise. I swear on my life. Scout’s honor,” I say even though I’ve never been a Girl Scout. I really need to shut up now.

  He sort of smiles. The one side of his mouth quirks up for half a second. Oh, that mouth. I quickly flash my gaze back to his eyes. Safer territory, although not by much.

  “I’m glad to hear it, Miss Shaw. I do believe you, but I have that NDA on file, and you need to know that I will not hesitate to sue you if you are in breach. You’ll be left with nothing. No one will hire you, and I mean no one. Not even your daddy. Do I make myself clear?”

  He’s threatening me to within an inch of my life, and I still find him sexy. I mean, I can’t really blame him, his life can’t be easy. I don’t think money is everything. You need it, but it can complicate things. I truly feel sorry for him right now. Poor guy can’t have a normal life. Normal things. For Mr. Bolt, there is no such thing as normal.

  He frowns. “What’s that look you’re giving me?”

  “I was just thinking that I feel a little sorry for you.”

  “You pity me?” He laughs, and his whole face lights up. His eyes sparkle. He has a dimple…just the one. Of course, he does. One dimple is off the freaking charts gorgeous, whereas two is far more normal. There is nothing normal about Steven ‘Wicked’ Bolt. His laugh quickly dies, but his eyes keep their sparkle. “Why do you feel sorry for me, Miss Shaw?”

  “I mean, I know you’re a billionaire and look like…and have it all going on for you, but it’s also got to be tough being you. You’re worried I might sell you out to the highest bidder. It can’t be easy making friends or dating. Who do you ultimately trust? There can’t be many people.”

  “I trust my gut, but I don’t take chances. I think I made the right call when I hired you, Miss Shaw.”

  I feel warmth blossom inside my chest at his compliment. “Thanks, and you can call me Ashley.”

  His jaw tightens. “We’re not going to be friends, Miss Shaw.”

  Shit! What was I thinking? “Of course not. I just thought that it… Never mind, Miss Shaw is fine.”

  “While we’re on the name discussion, you can call me Bolt. I prefer it. I’m known as Bolt by colleagues, friends, and enemies alike. No one calls me Steven, not even my own mother, and I hate mister.”

  “Okay…Bolt it is.” I nod. I guess that answers the question I had earlier about Trevor calling him Bolt. There are only about a hundred more where that came from.

  He looks down at the box of cupcakes. It has a plastic lid. “What’s this?” he asks.

  “Oh, um…” I feel like an idiot
. “My mom insisted I bring them along, since you didn’t leave with any this morning.”

  “From your mother?” He raises his brows. “I believe I hired you because I thought you’d make a great PA and because you promised me sugary treats.”

  That’s true. “These are from my mom. Any future treats will be from me.” Holy crap that sounded flirtatious. I didn’t mean it like that. My hands are shaking. I’m such an idiot.

  “I plan on holding you to it,” he answers. His voice is gruff. His eyes are on me. It feels like he’s flirting back, but I’m being silly. This man is my boss. Not my friend. Not anything more. I’m so attracted to him, I’m letting my mind play tricks on me. I need to stop. I need to focus on my job. The End!

  “Aren’t you going to offer me one?” He sounds pissed off. His eyes actually look darker than they did before.

  Shitake mushrooms! “Yes…of course…um…” I pick up the box and take off the lid. They smell delicious. Makes me miss the bakery. The warm kitchen. The delicious smell of bread and pastries baking. An environment that’s familiar and comforting. I realize I’ve been staring at the cakes for too long. “There’s Double Chocolate, Peppermint, Peanut Butter…there’s…” I take a step towards him so that he can see inside the box.

  “I’ll take the one with the sprinkles. What was it called again? I think it was Strawberry Delight.”

  Again, it sounds like he’s flirting with me, but I set that crazy thought aside.

  “I’m partial to strawberries, Miss Shaw. The redder and plumper, the better.”

  “Good information to know…um, for future dietary requirements…I mean. Here…” This is where things go to hell in a handbasket. I only meant to hold the box of cupcakes out closer so that he could take the one he wanted. Except I trip – over nothing – and the box ends up flat against his chest. As in splat!

  Not just against his chest, but frosting side up against his shirt. Lord, help me! We put extra frosting on our cupcakes. It’s buttercream. “Oh, crud buckets!” I yell. “I’m so sorry. I…I’m a klutz. A complete…” I pull the box away. One of the cupcakes is stuck to him. His torso is covered in frosting of all flavors. It’s like a rainbow. The cupcake that’s stuck to his chest happens to be the one he wanted. I pull it off. “I can fix it!” I whimper. I throw the cupcake in the box and set it down on the desk.