Chapter 8
Chandler
“I am not a pushover,” said Gabriella, closing the door behind her and making every cell in my body pulse from being alone in the room with her.
A brief slideshow of what I wanted to do to her flashed through my mind, making its way straight to my crotch.
I sat down behind my desk, so she couldn’t witness the evidence of the effect she had on me.
Instead of taking the leather armchair in front of my desk, she remained standing with her arms crossed by the door she had just walked through. I sat back and watched her with amusement as she looked anywhere but me.
This whole thing was amusing. The fact that she was assigned to be my “handler” when there was no one in the fucking planet who could handle me.
It was something I internally scoffed at when Mr. Harold had suggested it, but who was I to push the buttons of the man who had just handed his entire company over to me?
Especially when it came to his daughter, who he seemed to put a lot of faith into for thinking she could teach me anything. It was almost laughable.
The only thing this woman could do for me was probably give me really great head with that pretty mouth of hers.
It was pinched into an irritated line right now, but I’d seen its potential when she talked or when she smiled at everyone but me.
I looked at it now. Her rosy lips slick with gloss, making them even more lush.
Making me want to take a bite out of them like a juicy, honey crisp apple.
“What are you looking at?” she asked sharply, bringing my eyes back up to hers.
I chuckled. She was so defensive with her fists curled into little balls at her sides, as if she was willing herself not to pummel me. I would gladly welcome it.
“Nothing. You know, I always imagined the boss’s daughter would be a fun dynamic. But you? You’re anything but fun.”
“I take that as a compliment.” She smiled smugly, bringing her arms up and crossing them across her chest with pride.
My eyes skimmed the low neckline of her top to where her breasts pushed together just so.
Their fullness complemented her small waist that was cinched by a cream pencil skirt cut to fit her like skin.
She was a tease. Eye candy. Too bad she was painfully irritating.
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
“And I’m not just the boss’s daughter,” she said with a bite. I had clearly struck a nerve. She finally took the seat in front of me, crossing her smooth legs one over the other.
“Are you doing all of this on purpose?” she asked, throwing her hands up exasperatedly as she sunk back into the chair.
“Doing what?” I asked curiously.
“Being impossible.”
“Is that what I am?” I asked, wanting to know more about what she thought about me.
“Among other things.”
“What exactly is your problem with me?” I asked, leaning forward and placing my elbows on the wooden surface of my desk. I looked at her skeptically.
She seemed to stiffen slightly in her chair, as if she wanted the distance between us to remain at least five feet.
I wondered if I had the same effect on her as she had on me.
Like the walls were closing in on me and the outside of this office didn’t exist, making me hyperaware of every breath she took and every slow blink she cast in my direction.
Every little twitch of her lips making my cock do the same.
“Come on…” I pried. “This can’t just be about the coffee.”
Her gaze narrowed and it looked like she was in some internal debate with herself before she spoke, her voice pointed.
“My problem with you is that you are an ass. My first impression of you was seeing you cut an entire line of people who you deemed less than you. My second impression of you was how you left me on a sidewalk covered in coffee after telling me I couldn’t afford your dry cleaning. ”
I grimaced slightly. Hearing it back sounded pretty bad, I would give her that. Maybe an I’m sorry would fix this little thing between us, but it wasn’t a word I said often and it seemed to catch in my throat. She continued on anyway, taking the moment with her.
“It’s your first day here and you’re acting like you own the place.”
“I do.” I tilted my head slightly.
“But you don’t have to treat everyone like shit,” she said frustratedly. “I haven’t seen you be kind to one single person here.”
“It’s not my job to be kind to them. My job is to lead them.”
“With fear and intimidation and…and…”
She struggled to find the word, her brows furrowing.
“Asshole-ness,” she managed to get out.
“Is that a word?” I asked sarcastically, placing my fingers under my chin as if I were deep in thought.
“The point is, my father would never have hired you if he knew what you were really like. He would never have given you the job that I’ve so clearly earned over the years.”
And there it was. The real reason behind her hatred of me.
It wasn’t the coffee. Or how I treated others.
It was because I took her job. Unknowingly, of course.
I didn’t even know Mr. Harold had a daughter, let alone that she worked for him.
Her demeanor in the boardroom after her father made his big announcement made sense now.
The look of someone dropkicking her right in the stomach was evident.
“All my hard work. My dedication. My loyalty. And this is the thanks I get?” she asked, more to herself than me. “Not to mention, the promise he made me when I was a child.”
Promise? Before I could ask, she continued on. It was like I was trapped in one of her therapy sessions.
“And now!” she said, her voice rising as she looked at me, her hazel eyes dancing on embers.
“I have to answer to some overgrown manchild with a bad attitude. I have to teach you a job that I could do myself. And you want to know the most annoying part? You’re all these awful things, but you’re still hot. ”
I laughed in surprise. I didn’t expect that to come out of her mouth. I don’t think she expected it to either, in her rant about how awful I was, it seemed to have slipped out. Her cheeks blazed red, and now I knew I had the same effect on her as she had on me.
“Don’t look so smug,” she said sharply.
“Who? Me?” I asked with an innocent shrug.
“You’re insufferable,” she muttered.
“I’m just glad to know the effect I have on you,” I purred, narrowing my gaze from her eyes to her mouth to her cleavage, with no effort in hiding it.
I swore I saw her shiver slightly as she shifted in her seat.
I smiled and sat back in my chair, crossing my hands over my chest as I leaned back.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” I said firmly. “Let’s get back to business. I have some things I need you to do today.”
“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously.
“You might want to write this down,” I said, gesturing to a pad of paper on my desk. She unsurely pulled it toward her and plucked a pen from the holder.
“I need you to transfer my calendar so it merges with mine here. I also need you to do the same with my contacts. I want everything in one place, so it’s seamless.
I need you to reschedule tomorrow morning’s meeting because a bigger and better client needs to take their place.
Just send an email from my account, making it sound sympathetic—yada yada yada. ”
I watched as she quickly wrote everything down on the legal yellow pad she clutched in her hand, her eyes darting over the words in concentration.
I continued to rattle off my list that would pretty much be impossible for her to finish by the end of the day, but she seemed like she liked a challenge.
“And then I need you to pick up my dry cleaning. The suit you ruined yesterday may have been salvaged.”
She shot me a look that I thought might turn me to stone. She slammed the pad of paper and pen on the desk and shook her head.
“I’m not done,” I said coolly.
“I am,” she shot back. “These are things for Bernice to do. Remember her? She’s the sweet lady you almost made cry. She’s sitting right out there.”
“Bernice needs to toughen up.” I shrugged.
“She’s like sixty years old and has worked for my father from the very beginning.”
“She’s slow. And you saw how she fucked up my calendar.”
“Give her a break.”
“No. I would rather give her work to you.”
“I am not your assistant. I am not your errand girl. I am not your slave.” Gabriella began ticking off each finger of everything she wasn’t. “I am your handler.”
“You’re not doing a very good job…”
Ignoring me, she continued on. “My role is to prepare you for leading this company, not pick up your laundry and wipe your ass.”
I laughed out loud. She was irritating, but quick-witted and I found it extremely sexy. Not many women stood up to me. Not many men stood up to me. But she did and it made me want to fuck her even more.
“My role is to make sure you don’t fuck up my father’s legacy, not come when you snap your fingers.”
Oh, I could definitely make her come.
She stood up a little straighter as she took a deep breath and smoothed out her skirt. I could tell she was trying to rein in her emotions. I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
“This isn’t working for me,” she said softly.
“It’s only the first day. You’ll get used to me,” I said easily.
“Doubtful,” she muttered before looking back up at me seriously. “I mean it. Something has to change.”
“Let me know when you think of something,” I said, turning to my laptop to let her know she was dismissed.
I began scrolling through my emails, but from the corner of my eye, my gaze fell to her ass as she started for the door.
The curve of her hips flowed effortlessly into the roundness of her ass that somehow even looked better in this skirt than it did in the blue one from a few days ago.
I noticed she had left the legal pad with her lengthy to-do list on my desk.
“Forgetting something?” I asked.
She turned and looked at me to the pad of paper I had my index finger on.
“No,” she said curtly, tossing the length of her slicked-back ponytail over her shoulder.
She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her and that perfect ass.
I had my work cut out for me with her. I also felt like I needed an ice-cold shower with the heat that simmered between us. This was a dangerous position to be in.