5. Amara
5
As I step out of the taxi and onto the bustling streets of New York, I can hardly contain my excitement. The towering skyscrapers and vibrant energy of the city are a far cry from where I grew up, and I feel a thrill of anticipation at the prospect of the business conference that lies ahead.
I can’t believe I’ve come so far.
As a troubled kid, I had to do what I had to do to survive.
Now I’m taking first class flights and eating at restaurants where I can’t even begin to decipher the menu. Luckily, my boss handles that for me, he seems to have a sixth sense for when I need his help.
Grayson steps out beside me, looking impeccable in his tailored suit and crisp white shirt. He hands the driver a tip and turns to me with a smile. "Ready to take on the world?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.
I grin back at him, feeling a flutter of nerves and excitement in my stomach. "Absolutely, sir. I can't wait to see what this conference has in store."
“The world has in store…”
“Of course, sir. The world.” That’s the thing about Grayson. When I’m with him, he always takes my version of things, and makes it bigger, better than I would’ve thought of on my own. It’s something I’ll have to get used to, the way he pushes me to want more.
“Think big, Amara.” He says, walking us towards a set of gilded doors, with a door man in an elegant red coat, waiting to open the wide oak doors for us.
As we make our way into the luxurious hotel lobby, I can't help but marvel at the grandeur of it all. The gleaming marble floors, the crystal chandeliers, the plush furnishings – it's like something out of a classic Hollywood film. I can hardly keep my jaw connected to my mouth, my head follows every light, in every gleaming chandelier.
Grayson checks us in at the front desk, and I can't help but overhear the receptionist's greeting. "Welcome back, Mr. Winthrop. We have your usual suite reserved for you, and I see you've requested an adjoining room for your assistant. Is there anything else we can do to make your stay more comfortable?"
I feel a flicker of excitement at the mention of my own room, adjoining Grayson's. It's a level of luxury I've never experienced before, and I can hardly believe that this is my life now.
As we make our way up to our rooms, Grayson briefs me on the schedule for the next few days. "We have a packed agenda, so I’m going to need you on it long and hard," he says, handing me a folder with our itinerary. "Keynote speeches, panel discussions, networking events – it's going to be a whirlwind. But I have no doubt that you can handle it. You might even like it…"
I feel a swell of pride at his words, knowing that he trusts me to represent the company well. "Thank you, Mr. Winthrop. I'm excited, and I’m sure you’ll be surprised at how hard I can take it."
As we settle into our rooms, I can't help but take a moment to appreciate the view from my window. The city stretches out before me, a glittering expanse of lights and energy, and I feel a rush of excitement for the days ahead.
I can’t stop the unprofessional thoughts about my boss.
I would do anything for him…
I know that this conference is a huge opportunity for me, both professionally and personally. Let’s just hope my attraction to him doesn’t screw it all up. It's a chance to expand my knowledge, to network with industry leaders, and to prove myself on a bigger stage and it’s one step further from my past.
As I unpack my bags in the luxurious hotel suite, I can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. Just being in this opulent setting is like something out of a dream for a girl like me. I carefully hang up my outfits for the week, taking extra care with the elegant gown I plan to wear to the gala.
My phone chimes and I see a text from Grayson.
An urgent matter came up that requires my attention this evening. Please enjoy the suite and amenities. Dinner is on me.
I read the message twice, unable to contain my giddiness at the idea of having this lavish space all to myself, even if just for one night. Quickly, I dial room service and go all out - a fancy charcuterie platter, some succulent lobster tails, and a crisp white wine selected by the sommelier. When in Rome, right?
I learned growing up it serves to blend in. And this is how Sir orders, so I will order the same.
As I wait for my gourmet feast to be delivered, I run a decadent bubble bath in the oversized soaking tub. Few things feel as luxurious as soaking my cares away surrounded by aromatic suds and soft candlelight flickering against the marble surfaces.
Slipping into plush bathrobes after my indulgent soak, I'm giggling like a giddy schoolgirl by the time room service arrives with my sumptuous meal. I spread everything out on the plush chaise lounge, nibbling the delicacies as the city skyline twinkles through the wall of windows.
This entire experience is straight out of a dream. Just a week ago, I was a relatively anonymous office worker slogging through my days. Now, I'm living like royalty as the personal assistant to one of the most powerful and sought-after bachelors in the city.
My cheeks warm slightly as I think about Grayson and the undeniable spark of attraction that seems to arc between us, no matter how poorly he tries to conceal it. Maybe it's the relaxing ambiance and delicious wine talking, but I can't shake the fantasy of being something more than just his employee one day.
Shaking my head at my own fanciful notions, I settle back and allow myself to fully indulge in this moment of grandeur. Who knows what opportunities await me at this conference? Whatever comes, I'm determined to make the most of it all.
The next morning, I wake up refreshed and energized despite my indulgences the night before. I take extra care with my appearance, selecting a chic yet professional outfit that projects an aura of confident femininity.
Right on cue, there's a punctual knock at my door. I open it to find Grayson waiting in the hallway, looking like he belongs on the cover of a men's fashion magazine rather than on his way to a buttoned-up business conference. His navy suit sits tight on his shoulders, well-tailored as always with his perfectly sleek brown hair.
"Good morning, Amara," he greets me with a warm smile that does funny things to my insides. "Ready to take on the day?"
God he smells so good. Meeting his gaze with my own confident look, I nod eagerly. "Absolutely, Mr. Winthrop. Let's go show them what we're made of."
As we enter the bustling main hall, I can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the energy and buzz of the crowd. Everywhere I look, there are industry leaders and innovators, people whose work I've admired from afar for years.
Grayson leans in close, his voice low. "Stay on me, Amara. I'll introduce you to some key players."
I feel a flutter of nerves at his proximity, but I nod gratefully. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate you looking out for me."
As the day unfolds, I find myself fully immersed in the seminars and workshops, soaking up new knowledge and ideas like a sponge. I attend sessions on everything from marketing strategies to emerging technologies, furiously scribbling notes and asking questions of the speakers.
During a particularly fascinating workshop on data analytics, I find myself seated next to a charming businessman named Ethan. We strike up a conversation during the break, and I'm immediately drawn to his quick wit and easy smile. "So, Amara," he says, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. "What brings a rising star like you to this conference?"
I laugh, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. "Oh, I don't know about rising star. I'm just here to learn and make some new connections. This is actually my dream job. I’m just so excited just to be here."
Ethan raises an eyebrow, looking impressed. "Well, from what I've seen, you're certainly making an impression. Your questions during the Q&A were spot-on."
I feel a swell of pride at his words, but before I can respond, I feel a presence at my side. I turn to find Grayson standing there, a strange expression on his face.
"Amara," he says, his voice tight. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"
I excuse myself from Ethan, feeling a flicker of confusion at Grayson's tone. As we step away from the crowd, he turns to me, his eyes intense.
"I saw you talking to that guy," he says, his voice low. "Just be careful, Amara. Not everyone here has pure intentions. Some are just out looking for another notch in their belt."
I feel a spark of annoyance at his words, bristling at the implication that I can't take care of myself. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Winthrop, but I'm perfectly capable of handling myself. Ethan was just being friendly."
Grayson's jaw clenches, and for a moment, I swear I see a flicker of jealousy in his eyes. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cool professionalism. "Of course, Amara. I didn't mean to overstep. I just want to make sure you're being cautious."
I soften, touched by his concern despite my irritation. "I understand, Mr. Winthrop. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But you don't need to worry. I've got this."
As we rejoin the conference, I can't shake the feeling of Grayson's eyes on me, watching my every move. It's both thrilling and unnerving, knowing that he's paying such close attention to me. But I push those thoughts aside, focusing on the incredible opportunities in front of me. This is my chance to learn, to grow, to make my mark on the industry. Not get with my gorgeous, successful and rich boss.
As the conference continues, I find myself navigating the social events with growing confidence. The networking lunches and cocktail hours are a whirlwind of conversation and connection, and I throw myself into the fray with enthusiasm.
During one particularly lively reception, I find myself engaged in a fascinating discussion with a group of marketing executives. We're debating the merits of various social media strategies when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I turn to find Ethan, the charming businessman from the workshop, standing behind me with a warm smile.
"Amara, fancy seeing you here," he says, his eyes twinkling. "I was hoping I'd run into you again."
I feel a flutter of excitement at his words, flattered by his obvious interest. "Ethan, hi! It's great to see you too."
We fall into easy conversation, discussing the highlights of the conference so far. Ethan is engaging and attentive, hanging on my every word and offering insightful comments of his own.
As we chat, I can't help but notice Grayson across the room, engaged in conversation with a group of industry leaders. He looks completely in his element, commanding the room with his usual charisma and authority.
But every so often, I catch him glancing in my direction, his eyes flickering between Ethan and me with an unreadable expression.
At first, I brush it off as my imagination. But as the evening wears on, I start to sense a distinct undercurrent of tension emanating from Grayson. His jaw is clenched, his posture stiff, and I swear I see a flash of jealousy in his eyes when Ethan leans in close to whisper something in my ear.
I'm both thrilled and confused by Grayson's reaction. On one hand, the idea that he might be jealous of Ethan's attention is exhilarating, a tantalizing hint of the depth of his feelings for me.
But on the other hand, I know that any romantic entanglement with my boss would be a dangerous and complicated prospect.
Especially with my past.
I just can’t risk it.
As the reception winds down, I find myself alone with Grayson in a quiet corner of the room. The tension between us is palpable, crackling like electricity in the air.
"You seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight," he says, his voice carefully neutral. "Ethan certainly seemed taken with you."
I feel warmth flood my cheeks, but I meet his gaze steadily. "He's a nice guy, Mr. Winthrop. But you know my focus is on the conference, on learning and growing as much as I can."
Grayson nods, but I can see a flicker of some unreadable emotion in his eyes. "Of course, Amara. I know how dedicated you are to your work."
There's a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken words. Then Grayson clears his throat, his expression softening. "You know, Amara, watching you navigate this conference has been quite the treat. You've impressed everyone here with your intelligence, your poise, your professionalism. Myself included."
I feel a swell of pride at his words, a warmth spreading through my chest. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you."
He takes a step closer, his gaze intense. "I mean it, Amara. You're a rising star in this industry. And I feel lucky to have you by my side, both as my assistant and as my..."
He trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air between us. For a moment, I'm breathless with anticipation, wondering if he's about to cross the line we've been so carefully toeing.
But then he shakes his head, breaking the spell. "As my valued colleague," he finishes, his voice firm. "I appreciate all that you do, Amara. And I know that you have a bright future ahead of you."
I nod, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. "Thank you, Mr. Winthrop. I appreciate your support, more than you know."
As we rejoin the rest of the conference attendees, I can't shake the feeling of the moment we just shared. The tension, the electricity, the unspoken words hanging between us.
I know that pursuing anything more than a professional relationship with Grayson would be a risk. I’m not the girl who gets to marry my billionaire boss. If I keep my head down and work, I can blend in, and that’s really the best I can hope for.
We’re simply cut from different cloth.
Yet, when I’m with him, I feel like I belong.