Chapter 4 Julian
JULIAN
Pausing with my lips on the rim of my whiskey glass, I realize that I’m toying with Savannah.
I shouldn’t be. She’s my new assistant, and I have to deal with it.
That also means that her brazen attitude and the way a dress clings to her body shouldn’t bother me.
Yet, I was vague on the details of my afternoon and simply let her assume the worst.
She probably thinks I get my kicks from random hookups with the array of women who have made it known they’re available. Yet that is not what I’m doing at all.
“Earth to Julian.” My friend, Hayes, waves his hand in my face as we sit at a small, low table in the bar of my favorite hotel in the city.
I shake my head slightly. “Sorry. Got sidetracked on a work issue.”
Hayes is my buddy from college on the east coast. It’s a shame he lives down in Texas, but still, we are in constant contact. It was a no-brainer to catch up while he was in the city.
“Anything in particular?” he wonders as he knocks back a swig of his whiskey. “You seem a little distant. How’s work? Must be going well if you managed to sneak away to see me while I have a break from my conference.”
"I have a new assistant." She’s as horrible as my past assistants who had no skill. Savannah’s problem is that she has skill; it’s everything else that is testing my patience.
“Oh yeah?” He grins from ear to ear.
"You find that funny? Explain," I say, peering into my empty glass. I signal the bartender for another.
He shrugs. “I feel like every time I see you, you have a new assistant. You were holding steady for a while. What happened to that assistant?”
“She went off and decided to procreate and add a human to the world. I’ve had one or two temps, but nothing stuck.” Maybe more than two, but I lost count of the number of times HR couldn't find me someone worth keeping. “Well… Charles’s assistant has now been thrown upon me. Happened this week.”
“That’s promising. I bet she’ll stick around for a while if she worked for Charles.”
“Delightful,” I mutter under my breath, and I don’t mean it at all. Focus is what I need. Sure, I was missing someone who actually knows my calendar and keeps an eye on the small details. She’ll keep me sharp in energy but completely fuck up my concentration purely by her presence.
“Don’t be grumpy. Are you still playing pickleball or something?”
My eyes bulge. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I am not supporting the pickleball trend in order to be relevant. Classic racquetball will do. And no, it’s been a while.”
“Okay, enlighten me, why are you so tense?”
I scoff. "Don’t be silly." He catches my eye. "Really." I drum my fingers. "Work's slammed. These deals are finally closing."
Hayes leans back in his chair, his arm extends, and he points his glass in my direction. “I’ve known you long enough. That was a lie. Now is the time to share while I’m gracing your city for a few days.”
The barman sets a small bowl of nuts and my new drink on our burgundy table in passing. Quickly, I grab hold of my whiskey.
Continuing to study Hayes for a few seconds, I debate whether I should admit my insanity—I’m desperate for someone to talk to. Hell, I’ve escaped the office at 2 PM on a workday. That’s gotta raise alarms for many.
I set my glass tumbler down on the square napkin. “I told my assistant to book a room here to make her think I’m meeting a woman for an afternoon fuck fest.” I string the sentence together with speed. I also wince from admitting that out loud.
His jaw drops. "You what?" He grins, clearly entertained.
“You heard me,” I mutter and avoid looking at him because I don’t want to see his face.
"Testing her discretion or... is there another reason?"
“She has worked for my company for a while. Discretion is second nature to her. Plus, she had to sign an NDA.”
“Okay, which means you did it because…” He encourages me to continue.
I bite inside my cheek because I’m trying to keep the reason locked inside. Admittance is dangerous.
“Wait. Is she good-looking?”
My head wobbles side to side. “I mean, if tight dresses and a gentle face with a snarky yet ridiculously peppy attitude is your thing.”
Hayes keeps grinning. "Right, so she’s attractive. I get it."
I scoff at his accusation. “Please, I have many options to pick from.”
“But she’s forbidden, right? Your company must have no-fraternizing rules or something like that. But wait, you own the company, so you can change that rule in a flash.”
“Forget I said anything. We should talk about how I can persuade you to join my company.”
"No rule against employee entanglements? Maybe I'd consider it," he jokes.
I shake my head and raise two fingers in the air to indicate to the bartender that we need another round. “Let’s move on.”
His palm flies up. “Sure… for today. You went to great lengths to test jealousy and her reaction.”
I should really defend the accusation, but I might struggle in the debate because the truth would trickle in.
“Really. It’s no big deal. Conversation closed.”
I told Savannah to clear my calendar for the rest of the day, but I want to return only after she’s gone. I can’t risk running into her. I don’t want to see her today. That’s another problem. She has a strong work ethic for her age and isn’t a 9-to-5 worker; she’ll stay until the job is done.
I admit I need to fine-tune my avoidance tactic around her.
The next morning, I arrive late at the office. I wanted to take a call from home to discuss a few new personal stock options. It seemed easier to take the 8 AM call when at home to be on time for the day's stock market opening.
Maybe I should’ve braced myself. When I step off the elevator and see red roses and a gift box on Savannah’s desk, I dread our meeting ahead.
“Good morning, Julian.” She smiles brightly as she welcomes me. She even stands up as if there is some protocol and I’m the royal highness… which, for this building, maybe isn’t far off.
I don’t return her look and simply keep my face stoic, even when I stop in front of her desk. “Savannah,” I say simply while my eyes attempt to inspect the gift. “Humor me. Who sent me flowers?”
Her shoulders puff out, and her elated look doesn’t melt even a tad. “They’re not for you. Someone sent them to me.”
My body clenches. Instantly. I don’t do jealousy, but fury fills me that some man dared to send my assistant gifts after a date, or maybe it’s her boyfriend.
Does she have a boyfriend? No. She has never once mentioned one nor brought anyone to the office holiday party, which should have been a warning sign that I was paying too much attention.
“You can throw them away. I hate flowers and don’t want them on your desk or as the first thing people see when they walk onto my floor.”
Now her smile wilts. “Right.” Her T is tight. “We are going straight for the devil’s den aesthetic.”
My jaw slides to the side because I want to hide that I might actually find that quip funny.
“They better be gone,” I firmly reiterate before I storm into my office, slam the door behind me, and zip to my desk to fall into my seat.
Ah shit, not the best way to start my day. She’s probably in the staff room poisoning my power bar, but then my eyes drop—she already left me one. The correct flavor, too.
A few minutes later, I hear her soft knock and tell her to come in. I’m a professional, so I will treat the day normally. One deep breath in and… fail.
Savannah opens the door, takes a few steps, with her hip out and her hand finding a home on her green satin dress. “The flowers are in the break room. Perhaps somebody will appreciate beautiful roses and a carrot cake that says congratulations.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Perfect.”
“Now I have to tell Elodie that her present nearly found a home in the trash.”
A woman’s name eases me slightly, and I know Elodie works for me. “Humor me. Is it your birthday?”
She shakes her head and walks farther into my office before sitting in front of my desk and elegantly crossing one knee over the other to ensure no skin gets to taunt me.
“I won a bet on how many assistants you would fire this month, and she sent me condolence flowers for my new role within the organization.” She smiles contritely at me.
I roll my eyes because I need to find a way to knock the sass out of her. “Won’t she have a fun performance review.” I’m joking, yet no humor finds my voice.
Savannah sighs and looks down at her notebook. “Anyhow, your new coffee machine is up and running, and you have a big day of afternoon meetings since yesterday you decided to play hooky.” She pretends to write, but her paper remains blank.
Got her.
It did bother her.
A winning smirk stretches on my face. “Tell me, what do you think I did yesterday that involves your complete discretion?”
Her mouth parts open, but no words follow.
“Hmm.” I stand and stride in the direction of my coffee machine on the table against the wall. “You know, sometimes we meet friends from out of town. For example, one who is staying in a hotel, and the room wasn’t even needed, instead requested just for kicks.”
I glance over my shoulder to see that her face falls and her beautiful berry-colored lips form an O. Perfect form. A gift to look at. Should I throw logic out the door?
She swallows and straightens her spine. “Okay.”
I grab a small espresso cup and immediately try to figure out the new machine, then look at her. “I’m curious. Would it bother you if I asked you to book rooms for me when I might have someone, plural or not, who might relax my day?”
She turns her head sharply and daggers my eyes with her own. “Who am I to be a moral judge? It’s my job, isn’t it? I signed an NDA.” She walks to me with heavy steps, snatches the cup from my hand, and takes over my coffee pursuit.
I tut. “You didn’t answer my question.” I scoot a few inches closer to her from behind, and it would be so easy to reach out and touch her shoulder.
“It’s probably not appropriate to ask me such things.” Her voice is weak.
Poking her right now to gauge her thoughts is how I want to play.
“For your reference, I had a serious girlfriend in college, which made both our families happy. It didn’t make me happy, however.
I’m not a relationship guy. My 20s were a time of naivety and afternoon fun.
But call it experience with age, but I have a strict policy to keep my mutually beneficial indiscretions out of the office. ”
Her body stills from my bluntness. After a second, she juts her chin out, and I feel her body shift into a confidence that I recognize in her. She glances over her shoulder at me. “Have you always been this open with your assistants? Or do I get that honor and misery?”
I choke out a low laugh. “Do you mean the way you have a mouth and speak to me, ignoring rank?”
She scoffs. “Wow. You really are a piece of work.”
“Should I be proud of that? And to answer your question, no. Congratulations on being special.”
“Oh joy,” she responds unenthusiastically.
“Let’s simply establish that you and I don’t have any lines or boundaries.
You and I can speak freely, and I won’t feel the need to chastise you for your snark.
As for appropriate? I don’t think you and I understand the word, so I’ll let your mind run wild on that one.
Should we agree on the new policy established? ”
Her intrigue is written all over her face, and her nose lifts slightly; she doesn’t seem to be debating with herself, though. “Fine. Agreed.”
Miracle of the day.
A shame everything I just spewed out could be a lie, because all I want to ask her is if she will be a problem and cause an actual indiscretion in the office. Savannah threatens every policy I have. I’m not sure if it’s a game I am eager to play or something else altogether.
She looks forward and focuses on the coffee, but a micro step on my part and her body stills, and I’m positive her dirty little mind telepathically met mine somewhere.
I do something risky, but I’m far too curious to stop myself. My fingers float without touching her, trailing down her arms to near her hands, which hold the cup under the machine spout.
“So, this is the new machine?”
Almost magnetically, her body gravitates toward mine. Our distance closes, but not enough to touch. I sense a hitch in her breath, and I’m not letting this moment go, either. The feeling of her so close fills my lungs with a heavy breath that in a different setting would be sensual.
“It is. A new type of bean, too.” She fills the portafilter and screws it into the drip.
She struggles to tighten it into place, and it isn’t the machine’s fault.
My fingers gently skim her wrist before I take over the machine, and her hands fall away.
Yet her floral smell is still intoxicating because she hasn’t stepped away from me.
I wonder if she senses it, too. A dangerous line that we’re balancing on.
But I have an empire to run, and I haven’t checked the calendar for today, but I’m positive I have a meeting in five.
The sound of the coffee machine grinding fills our ears, breaking the heaviness of our bubble. Savannah steps away, clearly affected, and her eyes avoid me at what seems to be all costs.
“Right. So, uhm, yeah, I sent you the project deck for the two o’clock meeting to have a skim through to ensure you’re aware of what the social media team wants to present. Also, your travel is all booked for Boston in a few weeks.”
She’s flustered, and it’s all my doing. That can make a man proud, and I’m no exception.
“Okay.”
Our eyes meet and remain self-assured, pretending all is normal. It really isn’t, but I’m taking the lead on this. I even slide the freshly brewed espresso out from under the machine and bring it to my lips for a sip. I don’t blink even once. Instead, I keep my eyes locked on her.
“Anything else?”
She shakes her head and clearly thinks for a long beat. “No. All fine. Let me know if you need something.”
Her on her knees would be one thing. But that idea has to leave my head.
She sashays past me, and I smirk to myself, but she doesn’t see because she doesn’t look back, only closes the door behind her.
Good girl.
Keep a door between us that shall remain shut for our well-being.
.