Chapter 30
30
MUCH BETTER THAN FLOWERS
L adies and gentlemen, I have made a grave mistake.
The announcement plays over and over again in my head as I follow Emily around Thatcher’s headquarters like I didn’t grow up in this building. There isn’t a nook or cranny that isn’t ingrained in my brain but this time it feels different. The walls feel like they are closing in on me as Emily’s voice trails off in the distance.
I vaguely make out the plan she laid in front of me for the upcoming weeks.
“Press release for your father to step down and for you to take over. Board meeting schedules to attend. New personnel to hire if you choose not to keep your father’s staff. Companies to review that are in the process of being acquired.”
The list went on and on.
How the hell am I supposed to go from some lowly project manager to C.E.O. in a matter of weeks? I reach up to massage the pounding headache that’s been plaguing my temples for the last hour. “Can we take a break Em?”
Emily turns around at the sound of her nickname I gave her when I was young and for the first time since this whole tour started, her eyes soften as she looks back at me like the woman who used to sneak me lollipops when I was a little girl and not like the hardass P.R. rep she is for my father.
“Oh, sweetie. I know it’s a lot to take in,” she places a comforting hand on my shoulder, “but I have known you since before you could walk. I know what you are capable of, and this,” she motions at the expanse of the building, “is nothing you can’t handle. Never let them see you like this,” she takes a gentle thumb to the crease between my brows to smooth the frustration out of my features like she used to when I was little, “I won’t let you fail at this. Do you understand?”
Her words resonate deep. To the world, Emily is cold and calculating. The woman in front of me is everything but. I feel comforted in knowing that her loyalties are with me as much as it has been with my father.
I nod before lifting my chin.
“Good girl.” Emily offers one last smile before she dons her expressionless features and continues on with the to-do list for me.
The next couple of hours pass by in a blur. By the time noon rolls around I had only a few moments so far to take a breather. I take that opportunity to tell Riley we are invited to have a good ole Thatcher family dinner this evening. To my surprise, he agrees without a fuss.
I don’t know if I’m ready for it. I already lied to my mother about our relationship, did I have it in me to lie to both of them? At the same time? For however long dinner’s going to last?
I plop down on my father’s black leather chair and glance around his obsidian desk. Everything is so…dark. That will need to change. Sam will love the opportunity to redesign this office and it will give me an excuse to spend time wit h her. It’s been less than a week since I had Sam and Lauren help me surprise Riley for his birthday but so much has happened since then and I really miss them.
Just when I thought I was given a break to lean my head back, there’s a knock at the door.
“Hi Ms. Thatcher.” A woman with thick tortoise rimmed glasses and brown hair, a shade lighter than mine, peeks her head in. “I’m Scarlett, Mr. That-, I mean your personal assistant.”
I cringe at the formalities. “Amelia, please. Scarlett was it?” Trying to cut straight to the point.
“Yes ma’am.”
Again, these formalities will need to go. “Just Amelia, please.” I watch her as she takes three timid steps into the office. A bit taken back that this is who my father chose as his personal assistant. The person that’s supposed to keep his life a well oiled machine. She’s neither sure of herself nor dressed like any office assistant I’ve seen reside at that desk over the years. Her hair’s in loose natural waves, a soft blue blouse that’s a size too big and a billowy skirt that has almost every color of the rainbow etched within its floral pattern. I catalog that to ask him about her later.
“What can I do for you, Scarlett?” I ask with a mixture of authority and sincerity.
She looks down at the black tablet in her arms, “I’ve rearranged your schedule for the week to give you time to adjust but there are a few meetings that are on the calendar this week that I’m afraid I was unable to move around. Typically on Mondays I would meet with Mr. Thatcher to review the agendas for upcoming meetings to prepare and wanted to touch base with you to see if you would like to continue with this cadence?”
I have already taken in so much th is morning, I’m not sure I have the mental capacity left to take in even more information but the way Scarlett looks at me now I don’t have the heart to turn her away.
I let out a mental sigh before inviting her in. “Sure, please have a seat.”
The rest of the day feels like chaos. Between meetings with Emily, this week's upcoming meetings with Scarlett, and the curious looks from everyone I passed along the way was enough to exhaust anyone. I’m grateful for the clock to strike five p.m. Which is early for a C.E.O. to take off, especially on their first day, but I allow myself grace due to the fact that my life has completely turned itself on its axis within the span of a week and I desperately need a mental break.
I grab my bag from the drawer at the bottom of my desk and make my way down to the lobby. Offering my goodbyes to Scarlett and Emily on my way out, I step out of the building and my body, without even looking up, already feels his presence.
I find Riley leaning against the black car, courtesy of Thatcher Inc, waiting for me. I smile at the idea that he showed up to see me home from my first day.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Needed to make sure the minnows didn’t attempt to attack the new shark in town on her first day.” He smiles, holding out a white paper bag.
I shrug. “I survived day one, I guess. Can’t say I thrived just yet.” I eye the bag suspiciously. “What’s that?”
“Figured you’d appreciate this more than a bouquet of flowers.” Riley all but shoves the bag in my arms when I don’t immediately grab it.
Oh my god. It smells heavenly. I unfold the top and I’m met with the smell of a basket of fries from my favorite diner.
“You’re right. Much better than flowers.” I reach into the bag and claw out an undignified amount of crispy potato strips to shove in my mouth.
“You are…attractive.” Riley’s eyebrow rises at my unladylike devouring of his gift whilst standing in the middle of a sidewalk, full of people leaving their jobs for the day, outside of the building I just commandeered as my own.
“I’m the bosh, I cang do what I want,” I reply as eloquently as I can with a mouthful of fries. Looking around at my employees walking all around me.
“Ms. Thatcher, if you’re ready?” The driver, my driver, Antonio, I think his name is, asks me as he stands waiting by the door waiting to open it for me.
I’m not used to being chauffeured around, let alone being called Ms. Thatcher, it takes me a moment to realize I’m making him wait while I impatiently scarf down these fries.
“Yes I’m sorry…” Shit. In the words of Emily, the word sorry no longer has room in my vocabulary. “I mean, yes. I am.”
I look at Riley, “um, wanna ride?” I ask awkwardly.
“A ride with the boss? Why I’d be honored, Princess.” He bows drastically.
I stifle a laugh. “You’re so annoying,” I shake my head at his theatrics as I walk past him towards the car.
Antonio opens the door for me and I climb in scooting across the seat to allow room for Riley when I hear the door on the other side open.
“What are you doing? I made room for you on the other side where the door was already open.” I wave my hand over the now empty seat to my right.
“Haven’t you ever seen Princess Diaries ? A lady never slides. Now,” he waves to shoo me back to the other side.
I slide back over to my previously vacant seat as he climbs in. “You do realize you just made me slide twice to accommodate you.” I point out the irony.
“Yes, but take that as a lesson learned, Princess. If you don’t slide over in the first place you wouldn’t need to slide back.”
I roll my eyes. I’ll need to dive into the whole Princess Diaries reference later. For now, I need to lean my head back with my eyes closed with the little time I have to relax before dinner with my parents tonight.
“Would you like me to make any stops before I arrive at your home, Ms. Thatcher?” Antonio asks, peeking in the rearview mirror from the driver seat.
“No, thank you. Just home, please.” I answer without opening my eyes.
“Of course, ma’am.”
“One more thing.”
“Yes ma’am?”
“Just Amelia, please.”
“Yes ma’am.” Antonio lets out an awkward cough. “Yes Amelia.”
I smile as I feel the car in gear moving into the steady flow of traffic.
The drive home is as much a haze as my day at the office. It could be because I practically slept the entire way home but still a haze. Riley is quiet during the ride, busy typing away on his phone. I’m grateful for the absence of conversation after a day of non-stop talking. Now that I had a decent cat nap, if you can even call the fifteen minutes from the office to my home a cat nap, I have roughly two hours to shower the day off and get ready for dinner.
The shower is quick and efficient, as much as I wanted to stay in there and let the pellets of scalding hot water wash away my every worry. To wash away every ounce of doubt that I have to hide from everyone. I no longer have the luxury of hiding from my reality, I accepted this role and everything that comes with it.
To over a hundred thousand people, I’m their source of income. Their source of survival. I now carry the burden of their worries. If I fail, they suffer. Which means, I can’t fail. There is no other option but to succeed but that doesn’t mean I can’t fall apart once in a while. In secret.
And with a large glass of wine.
I mindlessly walk into the kitchen to pour the largest glass I can find when a deep gruff sound comes from the couch to my right, startling me.
Shit .
The sound of Riley clearing his throat pulls me from my thoughts and brings me back to the very reality of me, at home, walking to my kitchen, wearing nothing but the black thong and matching bra I pulled on before all thoughts of wine dragged me into the kitchen.
Heat rises to my cheeks at the sight of Riley staring at my almost naked body but then just as quickly, travels lower to my core at the sight of him. The way his eyes travel down my body, marveling at every curve causes goosebumps to appear across my skin.
I should feel exposed, but the sight of him, the look of his throat bobbing as though to swallow down verbal words, makes m e feel…powerful.
The type of powerful that gives someone the courage to step forward towards him.
“What are you doing?” Riley asks, slightly choked.
“Seeing if you wanted a glass of wine too?” I reply with more sultry undertone than I thought I was capable of.
“And you have to walk towards me to ask me that?” He leans back against the couch creating more space between us but even from here I can see his trousers strained, evident of what my own core is screaming at me.
I stop a few feet from him.
I’m not sure where the courage comes from. A few moments ago I was spiraling out of control about not being enough for Thatcher Inc. and now I’m prowling towards my fake boyfriend like I’m some lioness ready to pounce.
“Would you like some?” I purr.
He swallows. “Of what?”
I study his every feature. The clench in his jaw as he tries to hang on to his threads of control. And still, the biggest traitor to his stoic posture is the way his pupils dilate as he stares at me.
I take another step.“Of wine.”
“You’re getting awfully close to dangerous territory, Princess.” He threatens, clenching his fists at his side.
Another step.
“Asking you if you want wine is dangerous territory?” I tease.
My knees are now touching his. The clenching and unclenching of his jaw, even more visible up close. His eyes never break contact with mine. The way the black now consumes the green and gold coloring of his usual eyes gives away that he feels exactly what I do. He had the same look in his kitchen the night I was wearing a little more than I am now .
“Standing here, wearing this,” his eyes roam down the length of my body, causing every piece of exposed skin to tingle, “is dangerous.”
“Explain.” I demand.
“There are no words.” He says through clenched teeth. His eyes are now practically piercing through me.
“You’re a smart man, I think you can think of some.” Taunting him while using my position to widen his legs allowing me the room to stand between them pressing my knees against the fabric of the couch.
He lets out a guttural groan while keeping his hands as tight fists at his side. “You know what you’re doing, Princess. I’m doing my best to be a gentleman but if you come even an inch closer to me I can’t guarantee that rules won’t be broken tonight.”
What is it about that admission that makes me so bold?
I take the dare and lean in, slowly bending one knee to straddle him on one side causing my stance to widen. Then the other so that I’m mere inches from sitting in his lap.
Every part of my body is so very aware of where it touches him and it still isn’t enough. “I’m just asking if you want any wine, Rye.” I know I’m provoking a sleeping bear. I know this will break the thin wall we’ve built between us as friends, but at some point between me walking from my bedroom to straddling Riley, I want nothing more than to tear down that damn wall.
This is a challenge and he knows it.
Riley
I take a deep breath, my eyes fluttering closed, needing to focus on each breath before opening them back up to look at Ame lia. “Just asking if I want wine, huh?” I asks in a calmer voice.
“That’s all,” She answer with a devilish grin. “I’m having a hard time finding the danger in that.”
The control I had so carefully crafted a moment ago begins to slip as I try to maintain this cool facade. “Right. And, what are my options?”
She shifts ever so slightly, hardly noticeable, unless you’re me. Me, who just so happens to be very aware of her every movement. “Well, there’s this complex red I was going to open. I’m told it goes down smoothly.” She says, tapping her fingers against her lip, contemplatively whilst feigning innocence.
“Amelia.” I practically growl out.
“Is complex and smooth not to your liking?” Still tapping her finger against her pouty lips. “I suppose I could find one that’s a little rougher on the taste buds.”
“Complex and smooth would be just fine.” Part of me hopes she will take my answer and make her way to the bar to grab the bottle of wine allowing me to remove that haze that’s taken residence in my brain. The other part of me is wishing like hell she’ll drop the pretense of wine and just come out and tell me what she wants.
“Well, alright then.” She takes her time removing one leg from the couch and then the other. The absence of her skin touching me is an unwelcome cold.
I don’t think. I just lunge forward and reach to grab her wrist before she has a chance to turn and walk away. In the same blink of a second, Amelia’s lips crash into mine.
I’m not sure if I pulled her to me or if she kissed me on her own. I can’t think beyond trying to sear her every touch to memory. It’s only the slightest hint of hesitation on her part that has me pulling my head away to examine her features .
Something about her seems tentative. I can’t place it but when she attempts to pull me back to her, I stop before I kiss her again.
So she’s not contemplating her decision to kiss me but I sure as hell won’t go any further if any part of her is hesitant. Then I see it. The ever so small pinch of her eyebrows and the pout of her bottom lip like she’s hurt that I had pulled away.
She wanted this, but yet there was a timidness when I kissed her. Almost as if she wasn’t sure what to do next.
“Is everything ok?” She asks nervously.
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently. “Princess, have you done this before?” I just come out and ask, needing to know.
The pinch between her eyebrows grows deeper, clearly offended by my question. “I’m that bad at this?” She seethes.
Amelia begins pulling away from me defensively but I grip her, pulling her back towards me. “You, Princess, are the farthest thing from bad.” I say admittedly. She doesn’t seem convinced. “There isn’t a damn thing you could do wrong, but I do need you to be honest with me.”
Amelia bites her bottom lip nervously. “I just,” She hesitates to form her thoughts. “I just haven’t had the best of partners in the past.”
She’s looking down, embarrassed at her lack of experience. I remove my hand from her hip to tilt her chin up so she can look at me. “You. Are. Perfect.”
I thread my hand through her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her to me. I kiss her softly. “Tell me what you want, Princess.”
Whatever the hell it is, I’ll give it to her.
A blush appears on the surface of her cheeks and instead of answering me, she tries to lean forward in an attempt to kiss me.
I needed her to know that she was in control and nothing would happen without her say so.
“Tell me what you want.” I ask again.
“Everything. I want everything .”