Chapter Six
JAKE
Donald, the chef, arrived thirty minutes later. Since Natalie said she didn't mind what she ate, I told him to do his own thing. He particularly liked it when I gave him free rein in the kitchen.
I sat in the armchair, working on my laptop. I had three new emails, but the most pressing one was from the recruiting company.
I groaned when I opened it.
Jake, I'm sorry I don't have good news. You told me to be honest with you and not waste your time.
I don't have any suitable candidates right now.
I don't think you’ll find someone who suits your needs for the time being.
Of course, you're welcome to also contact other recruiting agencies.
You are under no obligation to give the job search exclusively to us.
I stood up, pacing the living room and looking out the window.
From down here, I couldn't see the ocean, just the evergreen trees surrounding the property.
They calmed me down and grounded me. I stepped outside, taking in a breath of fresh air.
There was a reason this place was my sanctuary.
I lived a very high-stakes, high-pressure life.
This time I had to myself to decompress was crucial so I could keep going at the same pace.
I knew it was no use to hire an additional recruiting company. Even though I gave her shit, Danielle’s company was the best on the market. If they couldn't find a CEO, no one else could. I wasn't going to waste anyone's time, or more of mine.
"Fucking hell."
"Oh, should I take this as an omen that you'll be even more of a grump during dinner?"
Natalie's voice resounded from behind me. I hadn't heard her come up.
I turned around and did a double take. She’d changed into another dress, and she'd done something to her hair.
It came over to one side, cascading over her right breast. It was light brown, almost blonde in the light filtering in through the window.
Her brown eyes had been unfocused and watery on the plane, but now they were sharp.
She looked absolutely stunning. Her dress was insanely seductive, dark blue with a round neckline and no sleeves.
It was short enough that I could see her thighs, but not too short.
"I didn't hear you come in," I said.
She raised a rice cracker. "I stole something from the kitchen. I'm starved, even though I ate everything in the lounge. I guess my upset stomach emptied all my reserves. I'm really sorry about that, by the way." She looked uncomfortable, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
"You don't have to apologize for being sick."
"Do I have to apologize for my sassy mouth?" she asked, the corner of her mouth lifting.
"I think you've been punished enough by being sick," I said.
"I see.”
"Ms. Summers, I’m in an even worse mood than before. You guessed that correctly. I'm not going to be an excellent dinner companion."
"Thank you for the warning. But why? What happened in the meantime? I couldn't have possibly pissed you off. Was it the chef? Please don't take it out on him. He seems to be prepping something delicious, and I don't want your sunny personality ruining his mojo."
I couldn't believe this woman. Was she for real? No one dared give me shit, ever.
"I received some unpleasant news from the office," I offered even though I didn't have to share it with her.
I gestured for her to walk to the dinner table and held out a chair for her. She chuckled as she sat down, and I did the same opposite her.
"What?" I asked.
"I like how you have your impeccable manners even with someone you can't stand."
I blinked. "Who said I can't stand you?"
"Oh, you mean you're like this with everyone you meet?"
I flashed her a genuine smile. "Ms. Summers, you're actually seeing my very best side right now—bad news notwithstanding."
Donald brought the same crackers Natalie was already munching on with a bowl of peanut sauce. It was my favorite. She immediately dipped a cracker in the sauce.
"So, tell me about the bad news."
She looked genuinely curious. I wasn't used to this. The women I dated didn't care about any of my troubles, only about the restaurants I took them to, the vacations I paid for.
Jesus, you're not dating her, a voice said in the back of my mind.
"It's complicated. My grandparents asked me for a favor, something I'm not able to give them."
"Could you possibly be more cryptic?” she challenged.
I laughed because she was right. I was being cryptic for no reason. "What do you know about Whitley Industries?" I asked.
"Honestly? That it's huge and successful."
"That's what most people think. Some branches aren't doing as well. Advertising is one of them. They asked me to take over for a while until it's back on its feet."
She stopped in the act of bringing a cracker to her mouth. "But you've got your own company in New York."
"Exactly. I promised I'd help them find a CEO, and I can't keep that promise. There’s no one on the market who’s suited enough for the job right now."
"Surely that can't be," Natalie said.
"Trust me. I've had a very good recruiting company try and find one for the past few weeks."
"So, hire another one," she said, "or just wait a bit longer."
"I don't like the idea of waiting," I admitted, eating a cracker myself. "My grandfather is going back to work, and that is a terrible idea."
She frowned as she set the cracker on her plate and darted out her tongue, licking the peanut sauce off her lower lip. My cock twitched. I had the strangest instinct to lunge over the table, pull her lower lip in my mouth, and kiss her senseless.
“Why?” Natalie asked, genuinely interested. I was enjoying talking with her. She was intriguing.
"My grandfather had a heart attack many years ago," I explained. "The doctor's orders were for him not to go to work. I'm already pissed at my brothers that they didn't tell me he started going to the office in the first place."
Her eyes softened. I saw a change in her expression instantly.
"You're worried about your grandfather," she said.
"Yes, of course I am."
The corners of her lips twitched. "He has a heart," she said.
"There’s no winning with you, is there?"
"On the contrary, this right here is definitely in your plus column."
The chef returned with our food then. He made tuna ceviche, one of my favorites. He also brought us wine to choose from. We both went with the red from Maxwell Wineries.
"Oh, this looks great," Natalie said.
"For the main course, there’s steak," I said.
"I love steak. I had one in the lounge too. I'm so glad I'm feeling better."
I immediately downed the ceviche. I was starving, as I hadn't eaten anything since this morning. This day refused to end.
After Natalie’s first bite, she closed her eyes, humming, and I had to adjust my pants.
Fucking hell, what’s wrong with me? I couldn't react like this. Natalie was here because my grandmother hired her to cater her birthday party. I wasn’t going to take her to bed or on a date.
"What are you going to do about the CEO?" she asked.
"I don't often say this, but I don't know. I'm still thinking about it. My main priority is my grandfather’s health."
"And for the company to make it, I guess?"
"I don't particularly care about the company," I admitted.
"I wasn't expecting that. Isn't Whitley Industries your legacy?"
My jaw ticked. "No. I left Boston to build my own company."
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to overstep. This seems like an intensely personal topic."
“It is.”
We finished our ceviche in silence, and then Donald brought the main course: steak with baked potatoes and three types of sauces. One was pepper, one gravy, and one mustard.
"I can’t believe you had this made for us." She was staring enthusiastically at all the sauces, putting a spoonful of each on her plate, separately, careful so they wouldn't touch each other. "Oh, this is all so delicious. I could kiss the chef."
I groaned and masked it as a cough. What the hell is wrong with me? The thought of her kissing him didn't sit well with me at all.
"Tell me about yourself, Ms. Summers. How long have you been doing this job?"
She leaned back in her chair, tapping the fingers of her left hand on the table. "On one condition. You call me Natalie."
"Natalie," I said.
"As a matter of fact, this is my first event."
I froze. "What?" My grandmother hired a newbie to cater a party in my home?
"Oh, I see that judgey expression on your face. You think I'm going to trash your house?"
"No," I replied. “I have concerns, though.”
"What are they?"
"That you don't know what you're doing."
"You doubt your grandmother's hiring capabilities?"
"I think my grandmother has her heart in the right place. Sometimes she likes people and makes important decisions based on that."
Natalie blinked rapidly. "I'm not incompetent, Mr. Whitley."
"I thought we were on a first-name basis?"
"I'm reconsidering that," she replied coolly.
"Natalie, I didn't mean to offend you."
"It just comes naturally to you. I'm starting to see that. I told your grandmother the truth, and I'm going to tell it to you as well. And I would like for you to refrain from making comments. She's my employer, not you."
I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. She looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"The way you continuously give me shit. I haven’t ever met anyone who did that."
She gaped at me. "And you’re enjoying it?"
"No, I'm merely amused by it."
She waved me off. "Anyway, as I told your grandmother, I've been unofficially throwing parties for quite some time. My mother owned an event business until three years ago. Due to… unforeseen events, I need to do this for a living. At least for a while.”
"Due to unforeseen events?" I asked. "Who’s being cryptic now?"
Her face fell. It was the first time she’d truly lost her spark since I met her, except when she'd been sick on the plane.
"Yes. Well, it's of a more personal nature, and I don't feel comfortable sharing it with a perfect stranger. One who seems willing to use everything I say against me."