Chapter 9 Savannah
SAVANNAH
Streetlights highlight my wide smile. I’m on a video call with my Aunt Bea, catching up. How lucky I have been to have her in my life, I’ll never take for granted.
“Fancy,” she says.
I look around my surroundings from the back seat of an expensive car with dark leather seats, which picked me up from the office as darkness spread across the sky.
“Well, my not-so-stellar boss forgot a document that he needs to sign before 8 AM tomorrow, so he sent a car for me. Having billions means he doesn’t need to put in the effort to return to the office to make up for his mistake. Instead, he decided that I needed to ruin my night by working extra.”
It’s not that I had plans. It’s the principle of it all.
He kissed me, and for whatever reason, my body didn’t fight back.
One second, he was angry, and the next, his decadent lips were on mine with such possession.
They say sometimes arguments lead to passion.
I’m not sure that’s what it was, but I’m not complaining.
I mean, I got to experience what it’s like kissing Julian Haven, and I never thought I would think it, but lucky me.
Except… it did little to cool us. I chose to ignore the need to address it, and his answer has been to return to being unbearable during work hours over the last week.
That’s actually a good thing. We should be professional because I won’t let attraction derail my career. Even if I have to battle the pull, it’s a must.
“I hope he isn’t working you too hard.” Her forehead scrunches as she rests against the kitchen counter while holding her phone.
“Nah, I can handle it.”
“Because you are excellent at your job. He’s lucky to have you.”
I chortle a laugh and bobble my head. “I’m not sure he sees it that way. Let’s just say that I miss working with Charles. He is a soft soul. Julian is, well… not.”
“Maybe he’s missing something in his life. Is he close with his family?”
“No. Not at all.” I’ve wondered a time or two if I would solve the mystery of his family. Maybe it would give insight into a reason why he’s rough around the edges.
She gives me a knowing look. “Family can fill the heart. It must be lonely if he doesn’t have that.”
“I mean, he has friends. I’m sure he isn’t alone on holidays or anything.” Or at least, I hope not.
My aunt shakes her head at me. “It isn’t the same. Think of the joy you have when we have chaotic family gatherings with your cousins.”
She’s right. I look forward to seeing everyone, and the way we all plan what to bring to holidays, picnics, BBQs, and any time we can find a reason to get together.
Most of all, everyone comes with kindness and open arms. Every time I speak with my aunt, I’m thankful that she raised me.
I couldn’t have been more fortunate if I tried.
I press my lips together. “Maybe. Anyhow, enough about him. How are things in Everhope?”
“Same old. The only scandal is that we’re getting a new donut shop on Main Street, and Foxy Rox coffeehouse isn’t too happy.”
That sounds about right. Our small town is quaint and lifts your soul because, considering the world and the way that it is, we’re in a bubble away from it all.
“I hope they have donut holes.” Because who can pass up donut holes? It causes her to grin. “But I actually meant how is Everhope and things with you?”
The developer seeking the docking permit renewal is an implication I don’t want to think about.
They have the power to make it happen and a promise to the county to bring in money and more tourism.
The only problem is that it would ruin the feel of the town, probably destroy the river, and my aunt’s business would be gone.
Her eyes dip low. “Don’t concern yourself with it.”
Her reply worries me, and I wiggle in the seat and straighten my spine to attention. “Aunt Bea, what’s going on?”
She droops a shoulder when she sighs. “It’s almost as good as done.”
“What!” I wasn’t expecting this. I thought there was more time to figure out a solution. Persuade the city council, find a loophole in a law, or even try to find some obscure plant in the river that can’t be destroyed by construction. “You can’t give up so easily.”
“Sweetie, let’s not talk about this now.” That usually equates to her thinking about it more than she would like to admit.
The driver turns his head slightly, and he takes the moment of pause to speak. “Miss, we’re here.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter to myself. I can’t even finish my conversation because I’ve arrived at a place that won’t in any way, shape, or form calm me down right now.
“Go. We’ll talk later.” She smiles weakly as the car comes to a stop.
I shake my head, aggravated at how today is going, and I quickly glance out the window to see that trickles of rain are beginning to fall.
“Fine. But this conversation isn’t over,” I warn her from a place of pure affection. “I love you.”
“Love you too. Don’t worry. Enjoy your evening.”
When we end the call, I toss my phone into my bag, and my chest feels tight.
As the driver opens the door for me, I grumble out some slivers of my mood and refocus on why I ended up here.
Stepping out, I assess the building in front of me, and I’m in no way surprised—a high-rise with an expensive lobby and a man already holding the gold-handled door open for me.
I never complain about my living situation because I got lucky with my rental, but this is a whole new level. It’s elevated luxury.
I thank the driver as I link my arm through the strap of my bag. Smiling at the doorman, his bright welcoming smile is practiced yet honest.
“Good evening, Ms. May. Mr. Haven is expecting you.” I’m sure he is.
The man walks with me to the elevator, quickly dips his arm in to punch a button, then steps back to ensure the door stays open as I enter. “His door is on the right.”
Before I can say anything, the door is closing, and I’m all alone in an elevator. I contemplate changing into my flats from my bag because my feet are killing me, but heels scream, "I am not in the mood for bullshit."
As the light climbs the numbers above the door, I realize something horribly true.
I’m curious about the way he lives. I shouldn’t care nor be intrigued, but I am.
I hate to admit it, but I have butterflies in my stomach because I doubt any of his previous assistants have been here.
They didn’t last that long. It runs deeper, though.
He is letting me have a peek into his personal space. I feel somewhat special about that.
When the elevator stops and the doors slide open, I take a deep breath because I remember why I’m here.
Julian didn’t even ask if it was okay for me to do him a favor.
He ordered me. I’m well aware that when you sign up to be a PA at a major corporation, you’re always on standby for the higher-ups.
With Charles, he would always ask very nimbly and profusely apologize, then leave my favorite box of snacks on my desk the next day.
Julian? He might grunt a good-morning before chastising me for some ridiculous matter, and I’m positive he does it to piss me off because that’s what brings him joy in life.
I don’t even need to knock when I arrive at his door because it quickly opens, as the front desk must have called up.
I’m greeted by… casual Julian. Holy fuck, what world did I walk into?
I’m devastated that I actually find him attractive right now.
Dark jeans, white tee, and he must have had a shower because his hair is still damp and his body smells strongly of soap.
“Miss May,” he greets me roguishly.
That sinful look could weaken me, but a millisecond in, I remember why I’m here.
I tuck my hand into my bag and pull out the small binder with laminated pockets.
I’m quick to almost throw it at him; instead, I opt for the shove-it-into-his-chest move.
Also a mistake, because it makes his hands shoot up quickly and grab my wrists to hold the documents against his chest so they don’t fall.
“Here.” I’m quick to retrieve my hands back to my sides.
“Savannah, it’s the Connors contract, a little more finesse would be appreciated. These are important documents here,” he chastises me with cockiness in his voice.
I dagger my eyes at him. “Really? Someone here shouldn’t have forgotten to sign them at the office instead of summoning his assistant because of his lack of competence.”
My boldness doesn’t surprise him, and he raises his brows. “Last time I checked, it is my personal assistant’s job to ensure I don’t forget things and to be on top of the ball.”
I snicker from my fuming mood. “I believe I did so… three times.” I raise my voice.
“Now, can you please go sign them and bring them back?” I instruct, with the full intention of speeding this along.
“And why are you signing a contract? I thought they went with another company for their exporting of medical equipment.”
An unapologetic smirk appears on his mouth.
“It’s simple. I had our guys reach out to a few clients who left the opposite party, dug up all their little mistakes, managed to figure out some numbers, then went back to Connors, exploiting the worst-case scenario and the damage control they would need should the other party take them on as a client.
To sweeten the deal, I gave them a three percent decrease in pricing to be more attractive than the other party.
Undermining confidence and having leverage is a powerful tool. ”
“You mean subtle manipulation?” He warned me he does what it takes. Briefly, I wonder whether it spills over into his personal life, but he can’t be this way if there’s no significant other.
He steps to the side and points to the front hall. “Don’t you want to come in, or will you be staying in the hallway throwing a temper tantrum?”