Chapter 6
Alexander
Moments earlier…
I look at my father, who cheerfully grabs one of the appetizers and enjoys it.
"How was the wedding?" he asks, taking another big sip of coffee.
"Good," I reply shortly.
"Come on, you can give me more than that," he presses.
"Marc and Stephanie are happy, and the church was decorated with lots of flowers."
That makes my father laugh.
"You're the worst storyteller I know," he says, drinking more coffee.
"It was a wedding. Just like many others." Before he can dig for more, I ask, "Why am I here?"
"Can't a father ask his son to come home so he can be closer to his family?"
"What are you planning?" I worry he wants me to take over the company, and that doesn’t fit into my plans at all. My life is headed in a different direction.
"I’d like you to get more involved in the company," he begins, and I immediately stand up. I need to look off into the distance to keep my temper in check. Unfortunately, central London doesn’t exactly have a calming view.
From here I can see Big Ben and the crowded streets.
This city holds nothing for me. New York was my goal.
That’s where I built a life. Now I’ve landed back in the provinces.
"In recent weeks, I’ve had many conversations with potential candidates. Some inside the company, many from outside. They all have their strengths, but of course I’d prefer the company to stay in the family. As my only son, it would be your inheritance."
"I was in the process of starting my own company in New York. The program is almost complete."
"Then integrate it into ours. What’s the problem?"
"I employ nine people in New York. They’d all be out of a job overnight."
"Buy them out. Compensate them. If the idea is that important to you, then that’s the way. Or bring them here if you think you’ll work better with them."
That makes me perk up. I look back at him as he helps himself to another bite.
"I could bring them here?"
"Of course." He gestures toward the food. "Come on, help yourself."
I sit back down and try some of the delicacies he ordered for us.
"That certainly makes things more interesting," I admit. "You were against it before. What made you take a step toward me now and actually respect my wishes?" The other candidates must have been terrible.
"Get your mother a proper Christmas gift, and we’ll never speak of it again."
I get it. I’m the only one he really trusts.
"I’ll talk to my employees and either compensate them generously or bring them to London." I’ll call my lawyer later to draft the contracts.
"By the way, who was that woman here earlier?" I ask.
"That’s Miss London Waverley. She’s been my PA for three years," my father explains enthusiastically. "She’s never missed a day of work. I can always reach her. She’s a huge support and knows the company inside and out.
Her best qualities are her punctuality and her exceptionally good manners.
She’s always well-groomed and well-dressed.
She takes great care of her appearance. She’s athletic.
Slim. Never a gray hair, always subtle makeup.
And she’s sharp, intelligent. If I had to step away for a few days, she could hide my absence from the entire staff. "
He smiles and adds, "She’s the daughter I never had." I wonder if he talks about me like that when I’m not in the room.
"I assume she’ll become my PA once you finally take your well-deserved retirement?"
"Well, I certainly hope so."
I raise both eyebrows at that. Does this mean my father isn’t insisting I take over?
"She’s never done anything wrong. You won’t find anyone better."
"I’d rather hire someone new," I say.
"That wouldn’t be wise," he dismisses. "Or are you worried you might fall in love with her?"
I give him a confused look, which makes him laugh.
"Yes, I admit, she’s an attractive woman. Plenty of department heads have asked me if they could ask her out. But so far, I’ve always said no."
"For what reason?"
. If she got involved with one of my subordinates, it could cause conflicts and her work would suffer. But if you want her? Go ahead. I think you two would get along well."
"She's not my type," I dismiss, uninterested.
"Will you ever settle down?"
"Says the man who's been married five times," I shoot back, annoyed.
"It's about time. You'll be twenty-nine this year, and then what? You need a steady partner. Someone who might forgive the occasional affair, give you a few children, and take your suits to the dry cleaner."
My father has always had strange morals. "Or you find a woman like your mother, to whom I've been faithful to this day. Who would have thought, huh?"
He laughs, but I only respond dryly: "I have no intention of getting married."
"So, I'll never be a grandfather?"
"Why don't you adopt your assistant and marry her off to a man of your choice? Then she can give you grandchildren."
"Not a bad idea. At least she doesn't constantly contradict me."
He never liked that, but even as a child I had my own mind and wouldn’t bend. He loves it when people tell him exactly what he wants to hear. Those kinds of puppets are worth their weight in gold to him, but I can’t stand people with no backbone or character.
"Let's get back to business..."
I guess I’ll have to endure this for now. At least he’s given in about my employees from New York. I doubt all of them will come along. Most have families, spouses, and kids.
Two hours later, he has Miss Waverley summoned to the office.
"Give her a chance," my father says just before she walks in. I’m standing by the window while she takes a seat. When I glance at her, I notice she’s tense.
She tries to cover it with confidence, but the little things give her away: the nervous fidgeting with her skirt, the staring and nodding too much, the excessive blinking.
Even her ears are slightly red, a sign of rising blood pressure.
Is it because of me, or is she always this nervous?
For just a second, her eyes flick toward me. Hmm. Got it. It’s because of me. Not surprising. I wasn’t exactly kind to her. Even at the church, in her car, she apologized. But why was she in the wrong place to begin with? I’ll find out soon. Unfortunately, I won’t be rid of her that quickly.
"You’ve probably already guessed, Miss Waverley, but I’m planning to retire soon," my father begins. I pace back and forth, hands clasped behind my back, keeping my eyes on her. Fitting, really, that her name is London. Not only is the city my problem, but now so is this woman.
"Yes, sir. How can I help you?" she asks politely.
"My son will be taking over, and he needs a capable assistant. I thought of you. He, however, isn’t fully convinced of your abilities yet."
She takes it well.
"I’m sure I can convince him of my skills, sir." She stays calm, though her pulse must be racing as fast as during a marathon.
"We’d like to offer you an appropriate severance package," my father suddenly says, although that wasn't what we had discussed. London takes a calm breath and smiles.
"He wouldn't find anyone better than me," she says confidently.
"The training period would consume valuable months, while I have a very good relationship with existing clients and know the daily routines of all employees.
" She's self-assured, I'll give her that.
No tears. No drama. "I will, of course, do my best to help your son in any way I can. "
My father looks at me with a smile and laughs triumphantly. "Well, what do you say to that, Alexander?"
I breathe calmly and nod briefly. "It's worth a try. Four weeks’ probation. If she can't convince me of her qualities during this time, I won't extend the contract."
"I already have a permanent position," she protests politely, confidently, and with a hint of joy in her eyes.
"I have the contract here. There's a clause: As soon as my father retires, there's a special termination right regarding your job."
She swallows. She must have forgotten that, repressed it, or simply overlooked it.
"You’re more thorough than I expected," she admits, which tells me she knew about the clause after all.
"The severance would be generous. Nothing to worry about, London." I call her by her first name, and she lets it pass without comment. "I’d even write you a personal recommendation—despite inadequate performance."
"You have no reason to be disappointed in me yet, Mr. Blackthorn," she answers, a slight bite in her tone. It makes me smile briefly. She’s got some fight in her. Maybe she’s not a puppet after all.
“The onboarding starts Monday. Which means this Friday’s party will be my farewell. Of course, I’ll still be around as a consultant, but from now on my son will be making the calls.” He’s talking about the company’s summer festival. Most of it has already been planned.
“That’s very sudden, sir,” she says, concerned. She does seem to genuinely like my father. “Not that I don’t wish you a happy retirement, but…”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. The last few months have been tough. The last few weeks, almost unbearable. It’s time.”
She nods briefly. “Then please tell me your wishes so I can arrange the celebration accordingly.”
“Surprise me. Only my wife knows me better than you, but I wouldn’t want to burden her.
If it were up to her, she’d drag me out of the office today.
” He laughs, rising from his chair. “I’ll get some work done and leave you with my son for now.
Show him around and get him up to speed.
Things have changed quite a bit here in recent years. ”
“Gladly, Mr. Blackthorn.” She stands, gives a slight little bow, then opens the door for him. “May I bring you a coffee later?”
“I’d like that.”
She nods to him once more and then leaves, closing the door behind him. Only now does she allow herself to take a deep breath before looking at me angrily. Combative. Not bad.
“You have no intention of keeping me on, do you? Even if I handed you the Holy Grail.”
“Well, if you actually brought me that, I’d make an exception.”
“It’s rude to call me by my first name, Mister Blackthorn.”
“The next four—no, five—weeks are going to be very exciting,” I say, amused. “Maybe you’ll quit on your own and save me the severance?”
"I've been working for your father for three years, and he runs this company with passion. If you show this kind of behavior to your clients and demonstrate a leadership style similar to how you're treating me, this company will go down the drain in no time!"
Oh, she's angry.
"If you keep being this impertinent with me, the amount of your severance pay will decrease."
I'm playing with her. My father wouldn't let me pay her too little, but I want to know how far I can push her before she'll snap. How resilient is she?
"I don't care. I'll find a new job where I'm treated well. My dignity is worth more than any money you can pay me."
Now that, I like much better.
“Why were you in the wrong church?” I ask, stepping closer without breaking eye contact. London is caught off guard. I've apparently knocked her out of combat mode.
“I pressured my best friend into telling me where her cheating ex was getting married. She didn’t want me to go, and kick his ass, so she gave me the wrong address.
She didn’t know another wedding was happening there.
I just stormed out of the car, and… chaos followed.
” She looks uncomfortable just retelling it.
"Stephanie was really angry for a long time. After all, the wedding never even happened," I continue my little lie, which makes her look at me uncertainly. "“But you show real remorse. That’s a point in your favor. You’re still in the negatives, though, London."
"Don't call me by my first name," she demands again. "I deserve respect."
"All my employees call me by my first name. . It’s not about respect. If I call you London, you call me Alexander.”
“You’re not my boss until Monday.”
“You can make this complicated if you want. That’s your choice.
” I sit back, crossing one leg over the other with a smug smile.
Her red cheeks betray her: London is about to burst with anger.
She's stubborn and doesn't want to give in.
Maybe it will be quite fun to tease her in the coming weeks. I think I'm going to enjoy myself.
"You're not giving me an honest chance just because of that? Because I made one small mistake?" she asks me with a hurt look. I suspect she's on the verge of shedding a few tears.
"First impressions matter. I expect my employees to behave properly even in private settings and not leave a bad impression."
"Yet you're the one treating me unfairly right now."
"These are merely the consequences of your actions," I counter, leaving her standing there speechless.
What now, Princess? How are you going to get out of this situation? Are you gonna cry and tell me about your difficult childhood? Did you grow up without a father and have to assert yourself as a little sister against older brothers? Is that what made you so tough?
Are you gonna yell at me now? Tell me what a miserable bastard I am and that I should rot in hell?
Or are you gonna beg for forgiveness again and plead with me not to be so mean to you?
Hmm, there's still a fourth option: Maybe you'll strip and offer yourself to me?
"You want war? Fine, you can have it." After one threatening look, she freezes. Then she leaves the room—and no, she doesn’t slam the door. She probably just remembered her promise to my father to show me around the company.
She pauses like a statue while I sit smirking, waiting for her to turn back. And turn back she does. She straightens, pushes the door open again, and steps back.
As she does, she addresses me with a punishing glare: "I'm just going to bring Mr. Blackthorn..."
"Arthur," I correct her with a cold look.
"...his coffee quickly. Then I'll come back and show you the company, sir."
She's so stubborn. Like a mule. Maybe I shouldn't call her Princess, but Little Mule? As she walks away with her nose turned up, I notice her firm ass. Really a shame she didn't choose the fourth option.
Now the real question is: what do I do with her? Only two real choices—give her a fair chance, or amuse myself over the next few weeks and toss her out in the end.
Option three would be to get her into bed. Just once.
Smiling, I fall back into the armchair and start pondering. It would be very tempting. But I'm not a monster.
I think I’ll let her decide. I’ll watch. And at the end of the week, I’ll know whether she deserves a chance or whether I’ll have my fun instead. It's up to her.