Chapter 4
Graham
I didn’t need to look up to know Cassandra was making her fourth pass by my office door in the last hour. The click of her heels on the mezzanine floor had become as predictable as a metronome, each pass slightly slower than the last, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves. I kept my eyes fixed on my computer screen, pretending to be absorbed in quarterly projections while actually watching the security feed from the lobby on a minimized window. The familiar tension headache I’d been fighting all morning throbbed behind my eyes.
When Scarlett had stepped off the elevator earlier, my heart had nearly stopped. The memory of our intimate morning was still fresh—the scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin against mine, the way Drake had moved her hair aside to kiss her neck while she helped with my tie. Even now, hours later, I could still feel the phantom brush of her fingers against my throat, still see the way Brody had shuddered at the sight. But here, in the office where we had to maintain professional distance, all I could do was offer a polite nod before Georgia whisked her away. The forced separation made my chest ache.
My desk phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. “Mr. Clarke?” Cassandra’s voice held that breathless quality that made my skin crawl. “The CEO is asking for an update on the Sports division’s recent… disruptions.”
I suppressed a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Thank you, Cassandra. Please tell him I’ll have a full report by the end of day.” I paused, then added with barely contained irritation, “And please stop pacing the mezzanine. It’s distracting.”
A faint gasp followed by blessed silence. I allowed myself a small smile as the clicking heels retreated at a much quicker pace.
My mobile buzzed with a text from Georgia: Your guard dog is sulking at her desk. What did you say to her?
Told her to stop wearing a groove in the floor , I replied, feeling a hint of satisfaction.
Another message popped up: BTW, Scarlett’s heading your way. Try to look surprised.
I straightened my tie reflexively, the gesture bringing back vivid memories of this morning. The intimate moment we’d shared felt both natural and erotic, making me shift uncomfortably in my chair as my body responded. Even here in my professional sanctuary, thoughts of her had this effect on me. I tried to focus on the budget spreadsheet in front of me, but the numbers blurred together.
A soft knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. My breath caught as I looked up to see Scarlett standing in the doorway, the picture of professional composure in her perfectly tailored charcoal suit. To anyone else, she would have appeared completely at ease, but I noticed the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers gripped her tablet just a fraction too tightly. My heart raced at the sight of her.
“Mr. Clarke? Do you have a moment to discuss the Brody Holland campaign?”
“Of course, Ms. Swanson. Please, come in.” My voice remained steady despite the way my pulse quickened.
Scarlett closed the door behind her, though the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office left us clearly visible to anyone on the mezzanine. She took her usual seat across from my desk, crossing her legs in a way that made my mouth go dry. The subtle scent of her perfume drifted across my desk, bringing with it memories of how she’d smelled this morning, wrapped in my sheets.
“The numbers for the Holland campaign are quite impressive,” she said, her professional tone belied by the slight quirk of her lips. The knowing look in her eyes told me she was well aware of exactly what she was doing to me.
I cleared my throat, trying to maintain my composure. “Yes, well, your work on the campaign has been… exceptional.” My eyes lingered on her neck, where Drake’s kiss had left a faint mark this morning. She’d covered it carefully with makeup, but knowing it was there made my pulse quicken.
We were midway through reviewing the actual campaign numbers when a sharp knock interrupted us, followed immediately by Cassandra entering without waiting for a response. The intrusion felt like a bucket of cold water. “The Holland file you requested, Mr. Clarke,” she announced, wearing what appeared to be a freshly applied coat of bright red lipstick that made me wince internally.
I watched as Scarlett’s eyebrow arched slightly while she gave my assistant a slow once-over, taking in the shorter-than-professional skirt and too-tight blouse. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Scarlett spoke. “I believe April was supposed to be bringing that file.”
“Oh, I ran into her in the hallway and since I was coming over anyway, I thought I should just bring it, since after all, I am his assistant and she… Well, she isn’t.” Cassandra’s bright smile in my direction made my stomach turn. She completely missed the dangerous glint in Scarlett’s eyes that made me grateful I wasn’t on the receiving end of that look. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. Clarke?”
I felt my jaw tighten as I switched into my director’s voice, the one that left no room for argument. “Actually, Cassandra, in the future, please remember that you are Georgia’s assistant. She is my assistant. If April was bringing the file, there was a reason for that.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “Would you please ask her to join us? Her input is needed for this discussion.”
A flush crept up Cassandra’s neck as she glanced between us, her practiced smile faltering. “Of course, Mr. Clarke,” she managed, shooting a glare at Scarlett that bounced harmlessly off the other woman’s subtle smirk. The click of her heels as she stomped down the mezzanine echoed like gunshots.
As soon as the door closed, I slumped in my chair, running a hand through my tied back hair, causing it to fall from its careful ponytail. The familiar weight of it falling around my face brought some relief to my tension headache. “I swear she’s like a cat stalking a mouse. Every time I turn around, she’s there. Lurking. Waiting.”
Scarlett’s laugh, rich and warm, washed over me like honey. “Poor baby. Being hunted by the office kitten?”
“You think it’s funny now,” I said, straightening my tie nervously, “but yesterday she brought me coffee. Without being asked… Six times. Georgia actually started keeping count.”
“Six times?” Scarlett’s tone was pure mockery as her eyebrows rose.
“Each one with a different kind of creamer because, and I quote, ‘I wanted to help you find your perfect blend’.” I shuddered dramatically, remembering the increasingly desperate attempts to avoid each new beverage. “I had to sneak out through the service corridor to use the bathroom.”
Scarlett covered her mouth to stifle her giggle, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Is that why Georgia suggested I come up the back stairs?”
“Georgia’s been running interference, but Cassandra’s… persistent.” I glanced at the window where, sure enough, a familiar figure was slowly walking past, pretending to read something on her phone. The sight made my shoulders tense again. “Like now. That’s her seventh lap this morning. She’s going to wear a path on the floor at this rate.”
A light knock interrupted our flirtation, and April poked her head in, followed by Georgia balancing a coffee tray with practiced ease. The sight of my real assistant made some of the tension ease from my shoulders.
“Perfect timing, as always,” I said, gesturing them both in, grateful for the buffer of trusted friends.
“Of course it is,” Georgia replied with a knowing smile, setting down the tray. The rich aroma of properly made coffee filled the air. “I’ve been timing Cassandra’s laps. We have exactly three minutes and twenty seconds before her next pass.”
The office erupted in laughter, but I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment. As we settled in—April and Georgia taking the small sofa while Scarlett remained in her chair as I moved to stand behind her—the atmosphere shifted from playful to serious. The familiar scent of her shampoo drifted up to me, making it hard to focus.
“So, Brody’s fight,” April started, pulling up her notes. “We need to discuss security protocols while maintaining public appearances.”
I noticed Scarlett tense slightly at the mention of security, and without thinking, I found myself resting a reassuring hand on the back of her chair, wishing I could touch her directly. “Drake’s already working on the technical aspects,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “But we need a solid PR strategy to explain why we’re increasing security without raising suspicion.”
“What about positioning it as part of Brody’s rising star status?” Georgia suggested, her practical nature shining through. “More fans, more attention, higher profile”
“That could work,” Scarlett nodded, but I heard the worry in her voice, the slight tremor that others might miss. “But after everything that’s happened…”
“Hey,” I said softly, forgetting our audience for a moment as concern for her overrode everything else. “Brody can handle himself. And he’ll have all of us watching his back.”
April leaned forward, adding, “Plus, my guys will be there too. In plain clothes, but there.”
The tension gradually eased as we worked through the details, our easy rapport making the complex planning feel almost natural. Georgia’s occasional dry observations about certain board members had us all chuckling, and April’s spot-on impression of one particularly pompous sports reporter had tears in our eyes. The laughter felt good, necessary even, after all the stress we’d been under.
We were all still laughing at Georgia’s story about a mix-up with the CEO’s calendar when Cassandra walked by yet again. Through the glass walls, we watched her stop dead in her tracks, taking in the casual intimacy of our group—me now perched on the arm of Scarlett’s chair, Georgia and April curled comfortably on the sofa with their shoes kicked off, coffee cups in hand and files spread around us like comfortable chaos.
The look of shocked indignation on her face was priceless, and as she stomped back the way she came, we all laughed harder. My sides actually ached from it.
“I thought about letting her go because I’m not sure she’s really necessary,” I admitted, wiping tears from my eyes, “but I think for the comedic relief alone, it’s worth the added expense.”
As our laughter subsided, we collected ourselves and our files. Georgia and April exited first, leaving Scarlett and me to follow. We moved purposefully toward the railing overlooking the cubicles filled with people busily completing their tasks. I couldn’t help but notice Cassandra’s glare as we stood there, but it was worth it to have these few extra moments with Scarlett.
She turned toward me, her eyes filled with a longing that matched my own before she headed back to her office. I couldn’t stop myself from touching the small of her back as she left, a brief contact that sent electricity through my fingers. The ghost of that touch lingered long after she was gone, a reminder of everything we shared.