Chapter 4 Nicolas
nicolas
THREE MONTHS LATER
september
I’d broken my first rule. I didn’t sleep with my assistants.
Except now, I had.
We’d said that nothing would change between us, but it felt like everything had.
The easy rapport we’d built had turned into awkward silences, and these moments where I felt an impossible divide between us.
I hated that. Hated that just because we’d succumbed to the spark between us, neither of us knew how to act around each other.
It had been like a cocktail of poor decisions.
Decisions I couldn’t quite bring myself to forget.
Zofia was fiercely independent—always had been, as long as I’d known her. And while I didn’t regret it—could never regret her—I hated that everything felt different now.
Three months, and yet for me, nothing had changed.
Three months, and yet it felt like yesterday when I’d finally felt her skin against mine.
I wanted to ask her for a repeat. To feel her skin against mine, once again.
But what would it change? We couldn’t be together.
Besides, I wasn’t looking for a relationship anyway.
We’d had one night together—that was exactly what we’d agreed to.
“Son.” My father grinned at me from across the table, sipping from a cup of coffee as he sat in my office.
“Yes?” I asked, looking up from my computer monitor. I was reading a report on our current profit margins and wanted to get back to my task at hand.
He hadn’t scheduled an appointment. Instead, he showed up unannounced, which he knew drove me crazy.
I understood, but that didn’t mean it made it any less annoying when he hovered like a helicopter parent.
The man didn’t even check with my assistant to see if I was busy before he barged in as if he owned the place.
Which, sure, he sort of did. But he’d retired last year, leaving the company in my hands so he could go travel the world with his wife, and still it didn’t seem like he could let this place go.
Dad gave me an appraising look. “When are you going to find a nice girl and settle down?”
I almost choked. “What?”
“I’m not getting any younger, you know. And I’d like grandkids while I’m still young enough to enjoy them. Plus, there’s the matter of your trust fund.”
Ah, yes. I resisted rolling my eyes. He’d been dangling my trust over me like a carrot, just out of reach, for the last few years.
I didn’t need it—I’d done just fine for myself after graduating college, putting my finance degree to good use even as I learned the ropes for taking over my family’s company. My legacy.
Never mind that my father’s company was now mine.
I’d officially taken over as CEO at the beginning of the year. After remarrying, my dad had wanted to retire, and even though I felt severely out of my depth half the time, it was my birthright. At least I had good friends by my side.
“I’m only twenty-eight,” I reminded him, letting out a huff. “I have plenty of time to meet someone and settle down.” I volleyed his words back at him.
“You say that now, but then you’ll blink and suddenly you’re fifty and you’ve wasted the best years of your life.”
I scoffed. “Like you did?”
He frowned at me. “I married your mom. Had you.”
After which he spent almost all his time working. Yeah, I wasn’t touching that conversation with a ten-foot pole.
It was only in the last few years that he’d started dating again. Found a new woman, a new wife. A new family, one I wasn’t sure how I fit into anymore. I’d always be my dad’s heir, his successor, but things felt different now.
Especially when my new step-mom—closer in age to me than she was to my dad—was pregnant with their first child.
“It’s my first year as CEO. You know, the position you recommended me for?
I’ve got enough on my plate without worrying about finding a wife.
” I was the youngest chief executive officer in the company’s history—I had enough to do with proving myself without trying to find a wife to have on my arm at events.
Trying to look unfazed, I clicked my pen.
“I know. But the board is worried you’re not serious enough about your future and that you have a… how should I put it… lack of stability.”
“What the fuck? Seriously?” I narrowed my eyes. “That’s what they said? Wouldn’t they rather I focus on the success and future of the company?” Ever since he’d told me about his plans to leave the company in my hands, I’d been all in.
I knew exactly what people thought of me.
That I was some cavalier nepo baby who got everything in life handed to him.
No part of me wanted to be labeled as a fuckboy or a man took advantage in his position.
It was the reason I’d had a string of new assistants in the last few years.
Once they’d found out exactly how much I was worth, they’d propositioned me.
I’d immediately sent them packing, and yet the rumors persisted.
Yeah, I enjoyed sex. Consensual, no strings attached hook-ups.
When was the last time I’d done that? Over a year ago—around the same time she’d become mine. Well, my assistant. Because she wasn’t mine. And she never would be.
Even if I burned for her.
Now, the idea of casual sex felt hollow. There was no meaning.
That didn’t mean I was interested in anything deeper, though.
Most of my college friends were settling down, tying the knot and then popping out two point five kids.
I couldn’t imagine being in the same boat. I wasn’t ready for all of that—a wife, kids. I could barely take care of my self, let alone a baby. Sure, I had a dog, and I’d had Cooper for the last few years, but that was different. The bachelor life was perfectly fine with me.
He ran his hands through his slicked-back hair. “Honestly, Nic. They think you’re a carefree playboy who flirts his way around the city.” Maybe I had been that once. I loved to flirt, and I loved women. Besides Zofia, in the last year, I hadn’t seen any action besides my own hand.
Though that might have had something to do with the woman sitting outside my door.
The one who occupied almost all of my thoughts. Why had I asked her to be my assistant last year?
Because she was damn good at her job. She had an incredible eye for detail, and she ran her department flawlessly.
Reports were always on time, without a single typo or error.
Zofia was smart—smart enough to go head to head with me consistently, which was no small feat—and I admired her.
Honestly, she scared me sometimes with how brilliant and beautiful she was.
She kept my head screwed on tight when I needed it and was so much more than an assistant. She was a confidante. A friend.
But nothing more. We both knew the stakes. Who we were to each other. While I would never change it if I had to go back, because I never wanted to forget what it felt like to have her lips against mine, her skin pressed to mine, neither of us had wanted anything serious.
I wasn’t built for a relationship—never had been.
“Nicolas.”
I jerked up my head, remembering my father in front of me. “What?”
“Never mind.” He sighed. “I’ll see you for dinner this weekend, yes?”
I nodded, holding back my groan. “Of course.” Dinner with Dad and his young, pregnant wife. Fun.
Dad stood and grabbed his stuff, draping his coat over his arm. He turned towards the door, then looked back at me. “You know, I really am proud of you. I know this job isn’t easy.”
“I—thank you,” I choked out, suddenly overcome with emotion. It wasn’t as if my father never told me he was proud of me, but I hadn’t expected it.
He opened his mouth, like he was going to say something else, then closed it as if he’d changed his mind before walking out the door.
I went back to the spreadsheet currently open on my computer, overseeing sales projections for our next quarter.
We mostly operated in software and did a lot of our business with other companies, though we were also working on expanding into other avenues, which meant I also had the report from the product development team to review, as well as the marketing team’s upcoming campaign—and that was all before I had a business dinner tonight with a potential client.
I smoothed a hand down my face. I could do this.
So I did what I did best: put on a smile, becoming the guy that everyone loved. And I let everything else—every fear, every worry, every desire—fade out of my mind.
Four hours later, I stood up from my desk, stretching my arms. I hated sitting still all day. Even though I worked out in the gym almost daily, I got restless if I sat in one place for too many hours.
Which meant it was time for a break.
And maybe lunch.
I popped my head out of my office, looking at Zofia’s desk, but it was empty.
Damn. I was going to ask if she wanted to grab a bite to eat with me.
Before Napa, we’d shared meals together often—mostly out of necessity, but I enjoyed her company.
Now, she spent most days with Angelina and Gabbi, and part of me missed our friendship. How close we were.
My eyes drifted over her desk. There was a photo of her family at her brother’s wedding earlier this year, all dressed in traditional Indian attire. Zofia’s face was lit up, glowing with happiness. It was a beautiful memory, even though I hadn’t witnessed it myself.
She’d worn a similar dress to our company’s annual charity gala last year—a beautiful, pale green sari covered in gold embellishments that looked absolutely stunning against her warm brown skin. It had been hard to take my eyes off of her, even when I reminded myself that she was my assistant.
It was hard to ignore the attraction I’d felt to her all these years, but I’d done my best. Until Napa.
I shut my eyes, trying not to think about that night, how stunning she’d been in her sundress, glowing with happiness.
How I hadn’t been able to stop looking at her, especially with a few glasses of wine in my system.