Also by Celine Spiller The utive Assistant
Also by Celine Spiller:
THE EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT
“C-Cameron.” My voice was shaky.
He pulled away and looked up at me. “Yes?”
I tried not to notice how shiny his mouth was.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“I’m your personal assistant,” he said. “It’s my job to deal with all your needs.”
Alison Firth has everything she wants: a successful career as the CEO of a marketing firm, a high salary, and fantastic friends.
The only problem is her executive assistant, Cameron Holmes. He’s great at his job, but everything about him is a distraction, from his imposing height to his gorgeous eyes to his knowing smile. It’s infuriating, especially because Alison can’t have him: he’s her employee.
Then, one night at a charity event, Alison drops her defences and does the one thing she promised herself she'd never do: she gets intimate with Cameron. It’s so wrong, but to her surprise, she loves letting someone else be in charge for once.
Sleeping with each other is a bad idea, but neither of them can stop. But when feelings and work complicate things, Alison will have to confront the fact that there are more important things than her job. Otherwise, she'll risk losing the man who’s perfect for her.
The Executive Assistant is a steamy workplace romance between a female CEO and her handsome personal assistant. It features a career-focused heroine, a confident hero, and a guaranteed HEA.
Preview:
Chapter 1
If Cameron Holmes wasn’t so good at his job, I would’ve fired him months ago.
I still remember the day I interviewed him. Julia, the head of HR, had passed me his résumé before the interview and told me he was the most impressive candidate by far. She had already vetted several applications for the role of my executive assistant and had created a shortlist of the top five.
Cameron was number one on her list. He was also the only male.
I read through his résumé, which, as Julia said, was outstanding, with lots of internship experience, skills, and fantastic references.
He’d earned a master’s in marketing from a prestigious university and had recently graduated, so I estimated he’d be about twenty-two or twenty-three.
I imagined someone nerdy, scrawny, and shy.
The man who walked into the interview was none of those things. He walked in like he was the CEO, like he was the one interviewing me. He was tall—six foot three, I’d guess—with broad shoulders and dark blond hair. His light blue tie matched his eyes.
He was so unlike what I imagined that when he offered his hand for a handshake, I stared at it for a few seconds, my mind blank.
After I quickly gathered myself and shook his hand, a jolt of electricity surged through me.
I told myself this was a good thing. I didn’t want an assistant who was shy, scared of me, or got flustered easily.
My assistant would represent me and Firth Marketing.
I needed someone polite but assertive. Kind but strong.
The first thing I asked him was his age.
He wasn’t twenty-two or twenty-three, but rather twenty-six, two years younger than me.
There was a three-year gap between his undergrad and master’s, which he explained by saying he’d been overseas.
When I asked what he’d been doing, he blinked once at me, calmly, and said he’d been looking after a relative.
It was a perfectly reasonable question for me to ask about the gap, but his answer, the way he answered it, made me feel like I’d stumbled. I felt unsteady for the rest of the interview. Maybe it was his eyes. Maybe it was the size of him.
After the interview finished, I fought the urge to write him off immediately.
Sure, his résumé was impressive, and he answered every question with ease, pitching a smile here and there that was effortlessly charming.
But it was hard to breathe around him, and I knew it would be dangerous to work with someone who made me feel so… tense.
Unfortunately, no other candidate measured up to him, and so the answer was clear. He had to be my executive assistant. Julia offered him the job that week.
I wished I could say that things had changed now that two years had passed since the interview, but I was still too weak. Even now, the sight of him still made my stomach flip.
Today, Cameron was waiting for me outside of the bank building, leaning casually against the car.
He was dressed, as always, in a simple navy blue suit, white shirt, and light blue tie.
His hair was slightly windswept, but he still looked handsome.
I let myself stare at him for a moment, then stepped through the revolving door.
Gray clouds rolled overhead, and a wave of city noise washed over me.
Car honks. People talking. My name being spoken.
“Alison,” he said, straightening up. “How was the meeting?”
“Fine,” I said, as he opened the car door for me.
As I moved past him to get into the car, I could’ve sworn I felt a ghost of a touch on my back, but maybe that was just my imagination.
I crawled inside and patted the chauffeur’s arm in greeting before taking a seat.
“Back to the office, please, Mr. Anderson.”
“Yes, Ms. Firth,” he said, shooting me a smile in the rearview mirror.
He looked like a kind grandfather, with deep smile lines and neatly combed white hair.
He’d called me Ms. Firth since I first hired him, despite my protestations that it made me sound about a hundred years old, and calling me Alison was perfectly fine.
As the car zoomed off, Cameron fixed me with a look. “Now, how was the meeting? Don’t tell me it was just ‘fine.’”
A sly smile broke across my lips. “I might’ve convinced them to purchase our largest commercial package.”
Cameron grinned and nodded, not looking the least bit surprised. “If anyone is going to make bank commercials interesting, it’ll be you.”
Luckily, the commercials had to be more informative than fascinating, but I always gave every single project my own little flair.
“Don’t flatter me,” I told him, suppressing a smile.
Cameron chuckled, tilting his head back a little and showing off his defined jaw. “I’m not flattering you. I’m telling the truth. Besides, it’s my job to support you. Don’t you feel supported?”
I met his gaze. Over the past two years, he’d learned almost everything about me. My schedule, my habits, my behavior. The fact that he spent so much time with me made it extra difficult for me to conceal how much he… affected me.
“Sure,” I said. “Any updates for me?”
“Mr. Richards wants to reschedule tomorrow’s meeting, and Vantage Tech wants to talk about extending their contract with us,” Cameron said.
“How many times has Mr. Richards pushed back this meeting?” I asked as my jaw tensed a little.
I had been in the business world for a long time now. I was used to dealing with a whole array of issues and plenty of difficult people, but one thing that dug under my skin was having my time wasted.
“I believe this is the third time,” Cameron replied. “I could mention to him that this will be the last attempt at scheduling a meeting before we move on.”
“Good thinking. Light a fire under him, please,” I said.
Cameron took out his phone and summarized a few emails that had been sent to me during my meeting.
As he spoke, he adjusted his legs. He was a tall man, and while the company car was modern, it wasn't the largest. Once, I suggested he sit in the front, because he’d have more space and would be more comfortable.
He declined, stating it’d be better for us to talk if we were both in the back seat.
Even so, every time Cameron rearranged his legs, I became increasingly aware of the mass of him. I wished he was shorter. I wished he was smaller. I wished he had a different face and a different voice. I wished he had eyes that didn’t pierce so deeply.
“The Lloyds would like dinner with you,” Cameron finished. “Would tomorrow night suit?”
I blinked my thoughts away. “No, I can’t do tomorrow night.”
He frowned, glancing at his phone, and I knew he was checking my calendar.
“It’s not a work thing,” I explained. “I have a personal commitment.”
Cameron’s eyes met mine, blue and as clear as ice. I felt a chill and jerked my eyes away, already rearranging my face into something blank because I knew what he would say before he said it.
“Is it a date?” he asked.
“It’s none of your business,” I said. “As I mentioned, it’s a personal commitment.”
“Ah, yes.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, good for you. It’s been a while since you had a personal commitment. I was starting to worry about you.”
“Cameron,” I said, shooting him a sharp look.
Most of my employees would have cowered at the sight—not that I glared at my workers that often. No, Cameron was the one who received the majority of my glares, and somehow he was never, ever affected by it.
Now, all he did was raise his hands in surrender, his lips twitching. “I only meant that I was worried for your work-life balance,” he said pleasantly. “This will be good for you. We can’t have a CEO who’s working all the time. That’s a fast track to burnout.”
“Very true, Ms. Firth,” Anderson said from the front. “Besides, it makes sense for a pretty young woman to start a family.”
“Anderson,” I said patiently. I couldn’t get mad at him. He was only saying it because he thought he was being kind, the way my parents thought they were being kind when they asked whether I’d ever get married.
Cameron got in before me. “I doubt Alison has time to deal with men, not when she’s so busy running a company.” He smiled at me. “I, for one, hope you remain single.”
My heart stopped.
“If you found a husband, I’d be out of a job,” he continued.
I took a second to compose myself. Of course, that’s what he meant. He wasn’t implying…
I pushed the thought away. “Why?” I asked him. “Because marrying someone would automatically mean I’d become a housewife?”