Chapter 16 Ella
ELLA
“Mr. Langford will be here in ten minutes,” Emily says, panicking a little. “Josh, I need your final notes on the policeman gala next month.”
Josh scans his computer, a bit frantic. We’ve each been assigned two events to strategize.
From clothing, to entrance, to connections with people who will also be in attendance.
Anything and everything in between. And the team has gone through each event, weighing and discussing all the elements.
We’ve also set a timeline for dates, vacations (gulp), and meeting Asher’s family (which I’ve already met except his mother, but the world doesn’t know that).
I’m a bit overwhelmed. Now that I’m the fake girlfriend, I’m staring at a very concrete layout of my future plans.
There’s some wiggle room for things that we’ll need to add or things that could come up unexpectedly, but for the most part, almost every weekend and several events for the next few months are all carefully planned.
Now I’m really starting to feel like a Barbie.
And the weirdest part is that it has all been carefully curated by my colleagues.
I thought they were all going to lose their minds when I walked into the meeting an hour ago.
I didn’t see them yesterday as Emily was kind enough to let me work in her office with her.
With everything from the unexpected news break about Asher and me, to Kyle’s apartment, to signing the contract, I just didn’t have it in me to answer their questions yesterday.
But today, there was no getting around it.
Heather demanded to know if we’d been secretly dating before.
Josh asked if that’s why we left the club early Tuesday night.
They all had question after question. Thankfully, Emily stepped in and told them the truth: that we were running out of time, the prospects weren’t happening, and that Matthew felt I was the right candidate, and Mr. Langford agreed.
The photos and stories released about the club yesterday morning were not planned or staged, and no one knew they were out until after the fact.
She reiterated that no one outside the boardroom or this room can know that, and the official story is that Asher and I met at a product launch I was part of three weeks ago.
He wasn’t meant to be at it, but decided to drop by at the last minute on a whim, and the rest is history.
The first part of the story is all bullshit; Asher was at the event for a very short time, and he and I never crossed paths, but the world doesn’t need to know that part.
The door opens out of nowhere, and all of our heads snap in that direction.
“Mr. Langford,” Emily exclaims. “You’re early. We were just finalizing everything.”
Asher’s face is deadly serious, giving nothing away. “I need to see Ella before the meeting, alone.”
All the heads at the table snap back to look at me.
Embarrassed, I stand and make my way to the door while everyone stays frozen as I pass by.
“Where’s your office?” Asher asks as soon as I’m out the doors.
“I don’t have an office.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have a cubicle; it’s over there.” I point to the opposite end of the marketing floor.
His brows furrow. “Show me.”
I lead him down the aisle that splits the floor in half. Again, stares follow me and Asher as we make our way across the floor. It’s as if we are both wearing bright flashing lights on our heads.
“Here it is,” I say, holding out my arm toward my cubicle. It’s not much to look at. A small desk with a couple pictures, a plant, and photos of assignments tacked on the walls.
“This is where you work?” Asher scrunches his nose.
“Yep.”
“Hmm.”
“That’s not why you pulled me from the meeting, though. What’s up?”
“We have something to discuss, privately.”
“Emily’s office and the conference room are the only private rooms on the floor.
“Where’s Emily’s office?”
“Over here.”
Again, he follows me to another corner of the marketing floor. When we get to Emily’s office, Asher pulls on the handle, but it’s locked.
“Shit, I forgot,” I whisper, leaning close to Asher. “Ever since our new assignment, Emily has been locking her office as an extra precaution.”
He nods and steps back. “Open it,” he tells Robert who, as always, is only a few steps behind us.
Robert pulls a special card out of his jacket pocket and taps it on the pad near the door. The red light pings and turns green. Asher opens the door, and I follow him in while Robert waits outside.
“That’s . . . disconcerting.”
“Robert has access to everything. He must. But we’re not here to talk about Robert.” Asher closes the door then shuts the blinds to the window. All the curious faces on the other side of the window disappear, and it’s just the two of us.
“So, what are we here to talk about?”
“I don’t like the way we left things.”
“You want to talk about it here? Now?”
“Not the subject, no. But I don’t appreciate you storming away in the middle of a conversation.”
I close my eyes, praying for patience. “Asher, you had interrupted me on my way to work, and then we were fighting a losing argument, all while I was already late to an important meeting. Everyone in that room is on eggshells, hoping their ideas and strategies will be up to your standards. You’re well known for being difficult and exacting in what you want and pushing your employees to get it.
That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but if you’re the employee whose work is being rejected and picked apart, it can be really difficult.
“So, everyone in there is scrambling to put together their best work in the hopes of pleasing you. And as all of our work is interconnected, my absence from the meeting puts everyone else in a difficult position. That’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair that if you are displeased, you’ll probably be much easier on me than them.
If I don’t contribute to the team fully, it will make for really pissed off coworkers and less desirable results. ”
“I admire your dedication to your work, Ella,” he says, low and gravely. “But don’t forget that you don’t answer to Emily or your team, you answer to me.”
I lift my brows. “And I want my work to please you, Mr. Langford,” I say with just a hint of bite in my words.
“Good.” He steps closer. “I like to be pleased. And despite the fact that I can be a demanding person to work for, I want harmony when I can get it. I want my business to run like a well-oiled machine so that I don’t have to constantly bark orders and demands.
I have other things on my plate to worry about.
My expectations are high, that won’t change, and I expect my employees to reach and then exceed those expectations. ”
“I plan to, but you have to let me do my job.”
He smirks and takes another step closer.
We’re practically touching now. “But here’s where you aren’t like the rest of my employees: your welfare is my personal business.
Everything from your clothing to your work success to even your mood is a reflection upon me.
Whatever you do or say, people will immediately equate to me.
So, you must be as perfect as you can and give them as little as possible to critique. ”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“In your work, yes. But in your attitude toward me? Well, that leaves a lot to be desired.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I have some new conditions. One: we don’t fight at work. Ever. We are a united front. We must be professional while maintaining the appearance of being in love. We can’t have anyone question us. And two: you will come whenever I call you, for whatever reason, no matter what.”
“You can’t—”
“I can, and I will.” His smile is the devil’s smile. He leans down and whispers now. “For the duration of our agreement, you will come when I call.”
Shivers whisper against my skin. I shake my head slightly to clear the haze growing inside it.
“I didn’t agree to be at your beck and call when I signed that contract.”
“I’m adding that in now. You will come when I call, and you won’t fight me on it.”
“Why? Why is this such a thing with you?”
“Because, as I said, I worry. I wish I didn’t, but I do. And I won’t be able to focus on my work of growing and running this company if my worries override my thoughts.”
I try to argue, but he cuts me off again.
“I’m not asking, Ella. I’m demanding. As the figurehead and CEO of this company, I am telling you that part of your job description from here on out is to be available to me when I call you. No excuses, no push back, no arguments. Am I clear?”
I narrow my eyes, biting my tongue. This asshole.
I want to slap him for two reasons. For his ridiculous threat and demands, but also for the fluttering in my chest and the shallow breaths in my throat.
The way he’s looking at me, the sultry timbre of his voice, his demands—they are all hitting me in a way I can’t deny.
I should be arguing, pushing back, and yet all I want to do is crash my lips to his.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
“Am I clear, Ms. Hale?” Asher purrs.
“Yes,” I say in a breathy voice.
He places his hand on my waist. Pulling me into him. He whispers along my neck. “Good girl.”
He turns away, opens the door, and walks out without a backward glance. I stand frozen, in shock, gasping for breath. What the fuck was that? I’m so turned on that I don’t know up from down, and he’s just stalked off like it was nothing.
I let out a breath and leave the office, following behind Asher, trying not to blush as all my coworkers watch with morbid fascination, clearly wondering what we were up to in Emily’s office.
Asher slows and turns back, holding his hand out for me to take.
I start to hesitate, embarrassed by all the stares, but Asher gives me a, “don’t you dare,” look, so I reach out and take his hand.
United front at work, I remind myself.