Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
ADRIANNA
Straightening my dress, I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. The lighting in the bathrooms here at work sucks, but I was able to paint a fresh face on anyway. Now with the little black dress on, I’m ready to head out.
I really don’t want to be going on this dinner date with Elijah, but I don’t have much of a choice.
I knew that Mr. Whittaker would demand he bring a date.
He wouldn’t have for Gloria, but that’s only because he would have never agreed to meet with her.
He believes business is a man’s job. He doesn’t mean to be sexist. He is a nice man, but he has his downfalls.
One of which being that he believes women are less than men.
The only reason he wants me there is to be something to keep his wife entertained.
I’m okay with that, though. I knew the moment that Elijah came on as CEO that this was our chance to capture Mr. Whittaker.
He has deep pockets. His money is as old as the pocket watch that he shows off at every single meeting.
How do I know all of this? I’ve done my research. He’s an evasive donor that I have been chasing after for years. He sends meager checks here and there to keep up appearances with the Williamson family, but this is our chance to truly get a good chunk from him.
Now if only Elijah will get on board and do what I need him to do.
Walking out of the bathroom, I head back to my desk. After a moment, I knock on Elijah’s door.
“Come in,” he calls out.
I step inside. “You ready to head out?”
“Just a minute,” he mumbles, studying some paperwork.
He does that a lot. It makes me wonder what he is pouring so much energy into.
After several moments, he puts the papers away with a sigh. Then he stands, walking around his desk toward me. He almost trips when his eyes finally meet mine.
In a slow perusal, he takes in my outfit. I stand like the good assistant I am, waiting for him to tear me down. Why wouldn’t he? He has made it clear he hates me.
“You look beautiful.”
Those simple words have my mouth falling open a little. I didn’t expect them.
“Thank you.” I stutter over my words a little.
He nods once, grabbing his jacket. He takes the three steps to stand in front of me. Without realizing I’m doing it, I reach up and straighten his tie. He doesn’t say a word.
It’s like all of a sudden there is a charged energy surrounding us.
Clearing his throat, he steps back, offering me his arm.
I take it.
I follow him as he leads us to the elevator. Once inside, he clears his throat once more.
“Anything I should know?”
I should tell him about the one little tidbit I learned about Mr. Whittaker, but I keep it to myself, instead sticking strictly to the business aspects I know about him.
“He comes from old money. The Whittakers are older than even the Williamsons. He runs the family slaughterhouse, supplying billions of pounds of meat to the food industry a year. Between that and his investment portfolio, he is rapidly approaching the top ten richest men in the world. We have been trying to get him to meet us for years.”
The elevator dings, signaling we have reached the lobby. He holds the door, following me out. I don’t miss the slight pressure on my lower back as he walks beside me.
“Why has he agreed to meet with us now?” he asks.
I sigh as he opens the door to the building for me.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “Mr. Whittaker uses his money to donate to charity to offset the negativity he gets for the family business. He is an ideal candidate to sponsor one of our projects, but he never wanted to meet with Gloria. I believe he only agreed to meet because you’re a man.”
“Well, that’s shitty,” he says as we reach his car.
He opens the passenger door, surprising me. Such a gentlemanly gesture for an asshole.
When he climbs inside the driver’s side, he continues the conversation.
“So the man is sexist. What else?”
“You can go at him for the gala, but I don’t think he would donate much. He would write a check for appearances, but he isn’t passionate about the cause.”
“So what is he passionate about?”
“Animals. I know. Ironic.”
“So you want him for the Jinx Foundation project,” he says.
“Yes, I think if we get him hooked, he could be the main sponsor.”
“You need me to sell it.”
“I do. Do you think you can do that?”
“I’ll see if I can manage.”
I almost want to smile at the dry humor in his tone, but I don’t. I have to remember this guy hates me even if he is being decent right now.
“Anything else I need to know?”
Tell him. Warn him.
He parks in the parking spot at the restaurant, turning to look at me.
He’s so handsome. I wish he wasn’t such a dick. Still, he deserves to know.
I’m about to open my mouth and tell him when he ruins it all.
“Are you going to gawk at me all night? If so, I may need to visit HR about a sexual harassment complaint.”
I glare at him. “Mr. Whittaker is likely waiting. Let’s go.”
I open my own door, slamming it shut. I don’t care that his car likely costs more than my salary. He’s a dick.
Stomping toward the front door, I’m surprised when he runs to catch up to me, his hand falling on my lower back once more.
“It was a joke. What is it that you said? It’s not a dick, so don’t take it too hard,” he whispers, but I ignore him, my teeth grinding.
I hate that he threw my own words back at me. I don’t even know why I’m so upset with his comment. It’s something I should expect from him.
Maybe it’s because he’s not wrong. He’s been slipping into my mind more and more when I have my trusted BOB going to town. It only makes me hate him more.
When the hostess greets him, I almost snap at her flirty tone.
“Good evening. Can I help you?” she asks, batting her eyes at him.
It’s like I watch the charm turn on in front of my eyes. One second he’s a dick, the next he is an attractive man with charisma.
He has my head spinning.
“We have a reservation under Elijah Samson,” he drawls, leaning on her little podium.
I want to smack him, but I don’t. I keep my thoughts to myself.
“Right this way. Your guests have already arrived,” she says as she starts walking.
Elijah stays by my side, pushing me in front of him.
“How was your day?” the woman asks, turning to look over her shoulder.
She frowns when she sees me. I smile.
“Wonderful, that is so kind of you to ask. I hope your day at work is going well,” I tell her.
She forces her own smile. “Of course. Here is your table.” She gestures to the table where Mr. Whittaker and his wife are sitting.
The man and woman stand to greet us.
“There he is. Elijah Samson. It’s great to meet you,” Mr. Whittaker says, reaching past me to shake Elijah’s hand.
I withhold a gag as the stench hits me at the same time Elijah coughs. He smells like onions. I thought all the intel I had was exaggerated.
“Great to meet you. Who is this wonderful woman with you?” Elijah asks, subtly pulling me to the side away from Mr. Whittaker.
He might be a dick, but that was the nicest thing anyone could have done.
“My wife Doreen. What about your lovely date?” he asks.
“Oh, this is my assistant, Adrianna. I believe you spoke with her on the phone,” he says smoothly.
“Oh yes. Lovely to meet you, dear. Let’s sit and have a drink. I took the liberty of ordering some appetizers.”
Elijah holds out my chair, helping me sit. When he takes his seat, he moves a bit closer to me.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Mr. Whittaker,” Elijah starts, but Mr. Whittaker interrupts him.
“Please, call me Bob.”
“Of course, Bob. We are excited to tell you about our new project that we believe you will find worthy of your donations.”
Mr. Whittaker waves his hand. “No business talk until dessert. We don’t want to bore the women. Now, Adrianna, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?”
I can see Elijah clench his jaw at being dismissed. I feel guilty for not warning him. I should have told him about the rumors I heard.
As I rattle on about myself, I wonder if this dinner is going to go the way I want or if it’s going to be a waste of time.
ELIJAH
This night has gone to hell.
What I thought was a business meeting has turned into a social hangout. Not that I mind those, but I prefer they are with people I actually like. Especially the kind that don’t smell like onions.
Throughout dinner I found myself getting closer and closer to Adrianna to try and escape the cloud of odor surrounding Bob. By dessert, I realized any attempts were futile. There was no escaping it.
His wife must not be able to smell. Not with the way she leaned into him throughout the meal.
Adrianna did the same to me. I assume it was to take refuge in my cologne, but I believe Bob thinks something different. The way he winked at me when Adrianna turned into my chest while laughing tells me he thinks I’m fucking her.
A thought that he confirms when he asks me to step outside for a cigar with him.
“She’s pretty, but the optics could be bad,” he says as soon as we step outside.
“I don’t know what you mean, Bob.”
He gives me a knowing smirk as he lights his cigar. He offers me one, but I wave him away.
After a moment, he speaks. “If it’s a passing fling, then let her go now and pay her for her silence.
Trust me, it’s better that way. If you have feelings for the girl, then be transparent about it.
I’ve been down both roads. Ended up marrying the one who drove me insane while also keeping me together. ”
“Did it last?” I find myself asking instead of denying like I should.
“She’s sitting at the table in there, so I’d say she did. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“I’m happy to hear that, but there isn’t anything going on with Adrianna. She’s my assistant, nothing more.”
He nods. “Your loss then. She’s a feisty one. She’d make a good wife.”
“A good wife, but not for business, right?” I ask him.
He looks taken aback as he looks at me. “What is that supposed to mean, son?”