Chapter 29 – Andrea
TWENTY-NINE
ANDREA
The Rising Coffee Conference was an absolute paradise.
For everyone except me.
Outside, guests partied beneath strings of warm lights that shimmered over the shoreline. Inside, the scent of espresso and caramel drifted through the terrace doors while laughter spilled from the lobby.
Who the hell schedules a work conference in Hawaii?
Every major coffee chain in the country was here for the week—some eager, some predatory, all pretending they weren’t quietly calculating how to outlast everyone else.
If I had come with anyone else—literally anyone else—I’d probably be dancing barefoot in the sand, pleasantly buzzed and careless.
Instead, I was staring at myself in a mirror, preparing to stand beside Harrison Cross in a ballroom full of men who measured their worth by how many companies they’d devoured.
Sighing, I adjusted the straps of my dark gray dress and turned to the side. My matching stilettos featured a blood-rose charm, and I’d added a tiny skull to remind myself that this man was all but dead to me once we returned to Manhattan.
Do you really think he’ll sue me when I quit?
Lisa
It’d be better if you sued him first… Maybe combine cases with his other past assistants?
Everly
Um… Can’t you try to last one more year and compromise on a later quitting date?
I couldn’t answer that.
My chest tightened at the thought of working under this man for another hour. There was no universe in which I survived 8,760 more.
Mr. Cross
Ballroom. Fifteen minutes. We have people to poach.
K.
I refused to give him anything more.
I checked off tonight’s event on my itinerary, vowed to keep my interactions with Harrison to a bare minimum, and forced myself downstairs.
The ballroom stretched across the entire first floor, its wall of windows framing waves that kissed the beach beyond.
Music sifted through the speakers, but only a few brave souls danced. The rest were “networking”—smiling with their teeth while calculating each other’s weaknesses.
I grabbed my lanyard and headed straight for the bar.
“Aloha, Miss!” the bartender smiled. “Coffee-themed cocktail?”
“I’d like three shots of vodka.”
“Um… we’re not really supposed to serve drinks like that at these events.”
“Right.” I slid two hundred-dollar bills across the counter. “Make it four.”
She hesitated for half a second before stuffing the money into her pocket and lining up the glasses.
I knocked back the first two, then the other two, the burn sliding down my throat and settling low in my stomach—warm, reckless, necessary. I chased them with orange juice and exhaled.
“Thank you.”
When I turned around, a crowd had gathered near the center of the room.
I didn’t need to get closer to know who they were orbiting.
“He’s so hot…” the bartender whispered. “You going to get a selfie?”
“Ha.” I snorted. “I don’t collect pictures of people I hate.”
“You work with him?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Well, stand guard while I grab a photo?”
Before I could protest, she was gone.
He’s not THAT good-looking…
The crowd shifted—and I immediately took that thought back.
In a custom black tuxedo, Harrison looked devastating. Effortless. Powerful. He was smiling—actually smiling—and holding up phones for strangers like he belonged on magazine covers instead of in boardrooms.
If only they knew who he really was.
As he handed a phone back, his eyes locked on mine.
His gaze dragged slowly down my body.
My nipples tightened under his stare. His mouth parted slightly.
Damn him.
I forced myself to look away and moved toward a cluster of Dunkin’ Coffee reps, introducing myself, handing over cards, and inviting them to Harrison’s private event in three days.
“Well, well, well…” a gray-haired man said, stepping in front of me. “The Cross Effect never takes a vacation.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”
He flipped my lanyard toward himself. “Sweet Seasons. He still can’t let competition be friendly, can he?”
“I guess not.” I smiled politely. “Are you looking to level up?”
“There’s nowhere to level up when you’re already number one.” He flipped his badge. Starbucks.
Oh.
“But I can match whatever they’re paying you,” he continued. “We offer the highest salaries for sales reps.”
Even though I hated Harrison, I wouldn’t defect to the one company he despised.
“I appreciate the offer,” I said, “but I’m happy where I am.”
“Can’t be.” He leaned closer. “You look miserable.”
“I think I’m going to—”
“She won’t be.”
Harrison’s voice dropped like a blade behind me.
“She doesn’t want to shake your hand either,” he said. “Back the fuck off, Calvin.”
The man laughed, stepping back. “Long time no see.”
“Sad to see you’re still alive and well,” Harrison replied flatly.
“This isn’t the place for misunderstandings,” Calvin said. “We’re here as industry friends, and my Starbucks team is quite excited to see what you’ll do with Sweet Seasons.”
“You should be terrified,” Harrison said quietly. “And if you utter one more word to me tonight, I’ll make good on the ass beating I owe you from years ago.”
Calvin held his stare for a beat, looking like he was going to challenge him, but then his face paled and he walked away.
“Um…” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to—”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Harrison hissed, grabbing my arm.
“Excuse me?”
“Why were you talking to Calvin?”
“I didn’t know who he was,” I said. “I honestly still don’t, and I’m about to leave.”
“His name is in my enemies list via the binder I gave you on your first day,” he said. “You should’ve had that memorized by now.”
“Well, between your impossible workload and my lack of sleep, forgive me for not memorizing your revenge yearbook.”
“You should be apologizing for making excuses instead.”
“Okay, Mr. Cross.” I leaned closer. “I’ll apologize.”
“Don’t make me wait too long for it.”
“Fuck you.” I yanked my arm free and pushed through the crowd.
My heels echoed across the lobby’s marble as I ran past the front desk. Not wanting to wait for the elevators, I rushed past them and headed for the emergency stairwell.
The door slammed behind me, and I was halfway up the first flight when it burst open again.
“Andrea, stop.” Harrison’s voice boomed through the space, but I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder.
I continued running up.
“Andrea…”
I made it to the second level, my hand on the door, but he caught me from behind and pressed me against the cement wall.
“Where the hell are you going?” he asked, his face red. “Better yet, who the hell do you think you were talking to?”
“You, Harrison Asshole Cross.” I seethed. “I was talking to you—and I’m going the hell home.”
“Did I miss a note about this conference being over early?”
“You’ve missed a lot of things.”
“My pilot won’t take off without me.”
“I know how to fly commercial.” I pushed at his chest, but he caged me in with his arms.
“The person in the wrong here right now is you, Miss Andrea ‘Flirting with the Enemy’ Stone.” He gritted his teeth. “Looked like you were seconds away from going back to his room and letting him have his way with you.”
I slapped his face—harder than I intended—but I didn’t regret it.
He let out a stunned breath, looking like he was seconds away from losing it, but I didn’t wait for his reaction.
“You’re in the wrong, Harrison.” My voice was hoarse. “You’ve been in the wrong for weeks, and I’m tired of being your personal yo-yo and balancing my life on the beam of how you feel like treating me day to day.”
“I’m not supposed to be here assisting you with anything, and you know that,” I said. “We both know that… But because I don’t have any other job prospects or options, you think that means I’m stuck serving you forever, but guess what?”
He didn’t guess.
“I won’t be stuck with anyone who doesn’t value or respect me, so I’m leaving you. Tonight.”
His eyes narrowed, and I took the chance to move by him again, but he refused to let me.
“You’re not leaving me,” he said, his voice firm. “Especially not tonight.”
“Don’t make me go back in there and tell everyone exactly what I think of you.”
“You can tell me right now.”
“I fucking hate you,” I said. “I hate that you’re everything I was warned you’d be, and that I was foolish enough to think you liked me.”
His jaw flexed.
Silence crackled between us, and below, the bass from the party’s music thudded against the walls.
“Please let me go now, Harrison,” I said. “I would like to get home by midnight.”
“Don’t I get to say how I feel about you, too?” he asked.
“You don’t have any feelings.”
“That’s not true,” he said, voice low. “I owe you an apology for not being more direct about them, but I’m not sorry I brought you here. And I’m not sorry for wanting to keep you all to myself and away from any other man—especially when you’re the sexiest woman in the room…”
He lowered his arms from the wall and pushed my dress straps down my shoulders. Keeping his eyes on mine, he grabbed my right hand and freed my fingers one by one from my clutch, forcing it to fall to the floor.
“I hate that I haven’t made it obvious that I want you,” he said. “That I can’t touch you at work. That I’ve had to pretend like you’re just another employee.”
My breath caught as he leaned closer, caging me in again.
“I’m still quitting when we get back,” I managed. “You can easily find someone else.”
“I don’t want to.” His mouth crashed into mine and my next rebuttal ended on his lips.
What was left of my restraint melted when he pinned me to the wall with his hips.
Still kissing him, I moaned under his control, feeling all the rage and hatred roll from my mouth and into his.
“Fuck…” he breathed, sliding his tongue against mine.
Through the silk of my dress, his erection pressed hot and unforgiving against my thigh—an undeniable promise of exactly how this argument was about to end.
I reached down and rubbed my palm against where his cock strained against the fabric.
He tore away from my mouth, breathing hard as his eyes flicked to the front of his pants and then back to me.
“Pull it out.”
I hesitated, feeling the vodka from earlier burn in my veins.
“Andrea,” he said, pushing down the front of my dress to expose my breasts. “Pull out my dick…”
Obliging, I slid my hands into his pants. My fingers pulled back his boxers, and then I pulled it out.
I stared at it as he plucked a condom from his wallet. Then he pressed it into my hand and silently demanded I put it on him.
The music from below was suddenly louder, and there were footsteps pattering on the floors above.
“Don’t focus on that.” He sucked my right nipple into his mouth before looking at the condom in my hand. “Focus on me fucking you…”
I unwrapped it and bent low to roll it on him, but something inside me snapped.
I sank to my knees without breaking eye contact and took him into my mouth like I was daring him to stop me. I slowly moved my head back, then I swallowed him again and again.
“Goddamnit,” he whispered harshly, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “Andrea…”
He repeated my name again as I tongued his tip, and the way he said it—strained, unguarded—undid me and made me suck him faster.
I felt him tensing, like he was about to let go on my lips, but he tightened his grip on my hair and pulled me up.
“Not like this,” he breathed. “Not yet…”
He slipped his hand under my dress, reaching for panties, but I wasn’t wearing any.
A slight smirk tugged at his lips, but he didn’t let it stay.
As if he’d given up on me following instructions, he took the condom from me and handled the matter himself.
“Here,” he said, sliding his hand under my left thigh. “I want you to come for me first…”
He lifted my leg and gently pulled me forward, angling his tip at my soaking wet slit, and then he slid into me slowly. Letting me feel every inch of him, he stared at me as I took all of him.
My thighs tightened around him when he bottomed out, a broken sound escaping my throat.
“Don’t scream,” he warned. “Unless you want them all hearing who you belong to…Clear?”
He didn’t wait for a response.
He pulled out slowly, then pushed back in just as slow.
Deliberate. Punishing.
“Tell me how much you’ve wanted this dick…”
I couldn’t form words. My body had already betrayed me.
I clutched his shoulders and screamed into his chest as he fucked me. My nails dug into his suit’s fabric, and I begged him to slow down, but he wasn’t listening.
And a part of me didn’t want him to.
“Look at me and tell me you hate me,” he muttered against my neck, still thrusting, still controlling me.
“I…”
“Say it while I’m inside you…” He thrust harder. “Do you still fucking hate me?”
“Noooo…” I could only scream.
“Are you sure?” He teased, and I knew he didn’t need an answer to that.
I shut my eyes as he pushed me further and further into ecstasy, my mind derailing against his rhythms.
The pressure coiled low in my stomach, tightening with every thrust until I couldn’t breathe. Despite his “Hold on for me” command, I shattered around him.
My body shook violently against his.
He followed seconds later, stiffening, whispering my name like it was both confession and claim.
My chest heaved up and down, and I felt his heart running heavy laps in his chest.
For a long moment, we stayed like that—breathing, tangled, unsteady.
By the time I mentally came back down, my legs were barely holding me up.
“You still want to leave me?” he murmured against my neck.
“No…”
“Good.” He brushed his lips against my ear. “We’re just getting started tonight…”