Chapter 6
Anais
For the next hour Janice walks me through what I’ll be doing as Evan’s assistant.
She’s kind, warm, even maternal and if I had to guess I’d put her in her mid-forties, with chestnut brown hair and brown eyes.
She’s a cave of knowledge of everything Maxwell Diamonds, casually mentioning that she’s been here for over a decade.
She even used to be Christian’s assistant before becoming Evan’s.
During my training, Janice takes calls effortlessly, typing up notes with the speed and precision that comes from years of experience. Urgent messages get forwarded directly to Evan, who is currently in a meeting, while the rest are written down neatly on a pad for when he returns.
Except he doesn’t.
By lunchtime, there’s still no sign of him, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s still stuck in that meeting, or if he’s deliberately avoiding me.
If it’s the latter, well, that’s got to mean something, right?
“Honey,” Janice says, sliding open a drawer, and pulling out a black credit card. “Could you pop down to the deli? It’s just across the street. Evan prefers his lunch from there. The deli ham sub, wrapped in turkey slices, no bread, and the green dream juice.”
I blink. Then blink again. Is she serious? I bite back a smile.
Who knew the grumpy, cold bastard was so… health conscious.
“Evan orders a sandwich without the bread. And a green dream juice?” I ask, incredulous.
Janice nods her confirmation, a frown on her face. “He’s very particular.”
I smirk. “How very…”
“How very what?” A deep masculine voice cuts me off.
I freeze, then slowly glance over my shoulder, only to find Evan standing there, a glare on his face. Of course. I expect nothing else.
That glare is practically trademarked at this point.
My cheeks warm, but I force myself to straighten.
I refuse to let this man intimidate me. Meeting his eyes, I let a smirk curl my lips.
“How very health conscious of you, Evan. Didn’t take you for someone who would swap bread for turkey slices.
Maybe L.A. would suit you better,” I muse sardonically.
His jaw tightens, a flicker of irritation flashing in those icy blues.
He drags a thumb slowly across his full bottom lip.
My gaze drops to the movement before I can stop it.
Heat coils low in my stomach, shifting lower, lower…
and lower. My tongue darts out, and I lick my lips, wishing I could press my mouth to his just once.
I inwardly groan. Jesus, God help me. What I wouldn’t give for…
A throat clears, snapping me back to reality, and I find Evan watching me with his usual, cold, indifferent stare. His jaw tics as if he can read every word in my head.
He probably can. I’m not exactly discreet when I look at him.
“Just get my damn lunch, Anais,” he barks, striding past me to his office. At the threshold, he throws over his shoulder. “I want it in thirty minutes. Not a second later.”
The door slams shut, and I glower at the thick oak panel.
Asshole.
“He’s not usually so… hostile about his lunch,” Janice says, a hint of confusion in her voice.
I glance over at her, catching the frown on her face and the pity in her eyes. I hate it.
I force a smile, reaching over and patting her hand gently. “Don’t worry, Janice. This version of Evan Maxwell is the one I’m used to.”
After picking up Evan’s lunch – and yes, I did ask them to sneak in a few bread croutons just to be petty – I grab something for myself, and head back to the office.
I glance at my watch. I have five minutes to spare. I could get it to him on time… but where’s the fun in that?
A wicked grin spreads across my face, as I stride over to the lobby couches and take a seat. Placing my purse on my lap, I pull my phone out and find a message from Lana.
Lana: How’s your first day going?
I type out a quick response.
Me: It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.
Lana replies almost immediately.
Lana: That’s my girl. Call me later.
I don’t bother to respond; my best friend’s message wasn’t a question but a command.
I slide my phone back into my purse, satisfied, I’ve killed enough time to be late with his Highness’s lunch. Some might call it childish, but Evan Maxwell brings out the defiance in me.
I cross the lobby to the elevators, hitting the call button. It only takes seconds for it to arrive. The doors slide open, and I step inside, pressing the button for the thirty eighth floor.
The higher the numbers climb, the wider my smile grows.
That’s until the doors slide open, to reveal an angry looking Evan waiting for me.
I gasp, my breath lodging in my throat at the sight of him.
His jaw tics, his expression dark. And those cold eyes are locked on me, like I’m everything wrong in this world.
Shit. Maybe I pushed him too far.
“Tell me, Anais,” he growls. “Is it your sole mission in life to piss me off?”
I raise an eyebrow. This asshole really doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.
I shoulder past him aiming for my desk, but he catches my wrist, stopping me. I gasp at the contact, my eyes darting to where he grips me. His touch sears into my skin, burning me, and evoking a maelstrom of emotions within me.
Evan doesn’t touch me. Ever.
So, this is…
Well, I’m not sure what it is, but I know I like it.
He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. My stomach somersaults, as a steady pulse thrums between my thighs, hot and unwelcome. I resist the urge to squeeze them together.
“My office. Now.” he hisses.
I blink out of my haze, rolling my eyes.
“I think I’ll make a wager,” I murmur sweetly. “Every time you say the words, ‘my office, now,’ you give me a hundred bucks. Deal?”
He sneers, derision lacing every inch of his tone.
“This isn’t some silly, childish game Anais.
It’s work. And you set out to deliberately disobey me.
” My brows jump and he smirks. “I saw your little performance in the lobby. You’re so fucking predictable, it’s almost funny.
When you’re here, you’re expected to act professionally,” he says, his lip curling in disdain.
The look on his face tells me, I won’t like what he says next.
“But I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been a brat; I shouldn’t have expected any different.
I don’t know why my father thought giving you a chance here would be a good idea. ”
Each scathing word slams into me, knocking my confidence. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I can feel eyes on us. Watching. Judging.
“You don’t know anything about me.” I snap, my voice strong despite the tremble in my body.
His eyes widen slightly, surprise and curiosity flickering there.
It’s clear he didn’t expect me to fight back.
I shove the brown paper bag holding his lunch into his chest, saying in my most sickly-sweet voice. “Enjoy your lunch, asshole. I need to get back to work so Janice can take her break.”
I yank my wrist out of his hold and walk away, head held high. The heat of his stare burns a hole in my back, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back. My body, the traitor that it is, floods with arousal from his touch.
I need to get my body on the same page as my brain. Because we hate Evan Maxwell.
But even as I think it, I know it’s a lie. He can embarrass, mock and humiliate me all he likes.
But he won’t break me.
No, I’ll show him exactly what I’m made of.
And by the time I’m finished?
He’ll be the one on his knees.