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I chuckle because I know she's only half joking.
“I guess I don't have much to lose,” I say slowly.
She’s right. I can look at this however I want to. As an opportunity to further my career, with the added bonus of getting closer to Chase, or I can psych myself out so much that I decline his offer.
“Okay,” I say, my heart pounding. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” Peyton says with a nod. “Now, where’s your phone?”
“Why?” I ask, confused.
“Because now that you’ve made up your mind, you’re calling him before you change it again.”
I scowl at her, and she grins back at me. “I know you, Alana. You’ll have talked yourself out of this by morning if you don't set it in stone now. Am I wrong?”
“Okay,” I grumble, poking my tongue out at her.
Maybe there’s some truth to what she’s saying. I grab my phone. My hands shake as I dial his number. I’m praying that he doesn't answer, but, of course, he does.
“Hello,” his smooth voice comes down the line.
My heart thumps. I think about hanging up, but instead, I swallow my anxieties and force myself to speak.
“Fine. I'll do it.”
“Well, that’s great,” he says. “They’re my favorite words to hear from a woman. Now, would you mind being more specific, starting with who you are?” I open my mouth, not sure how to respond to that. “Relax, Alana. I’m joking,” he chuckles.
Asshole.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say stiffly.
“No, you’ll see me tonight, actually,” he replies. “I need you to go to my office and grab the Fletcher files for me and deliver them to my apartment. You remember where I live, right?”
“You know damn well I do,” I growl, my face heating.
“Good, then I’ll let the doorman know you’ll be in. I’ll see you soon.”
He hangs up. I stare at my phone, in shock over what just happened. How did I agree to that? Is that what this is going to be like—being on call at all hours?
The plan was to call him and set this thing in stone, so I’d have the weekend to get used to the idea of working so closely to him. I certainly wasn’t expecting him to put me to work now.
“How did it go?” Peyton asks impatiently.
“I’m, uh, I’m going over to his place.” I swallow, my throat as rough as sandpaper. “Now.”
“Now?” she cries.
“He wants me to collect a file from his office and deliver it to him,” I explain.
“Then tell him to call an Uber,” Peyton retorts, waving her hand. “Surely, he can’t expect you to be on call twenty-four-seven, can he?” she asks. “You’re going over there and you’re going to set some boundaries. He’s seeing how far he can bend you.” She narrows her eyes when I flush. “Figuratively speaking, Alana.”
“So, what do I do?” I ask helplessly.
She smiles. “Use this to your advantage.”
“What do you mean?” I say. I have no idea how to do that.
“He wants you to work for him, and he’s testing your boundaries, so test his right back. Push his limits. Ask for more money or an even bigger promotion. Forget an internship. Ask him to hire you as a permanent junior analyst.”
“But that’s the thing. He has a team who have been there for years. He doesn’t even hire junior analysts. Only people who have years and years of experience,” I say with a frown. An internship is my best way to get into something that even comes close to matching my qualifications.
“So? The worst he’ll say is no, so then you say okay, give me an internship. But imagine if he agreed?” she says. “You’d be in, Lanna.”
My heart races as I think about what she’s suggesting.
There’s no way he’d agree to that…would he?Chapter Eight
Chase
I really did need the files.
Sure, I could've gone over there myself to get them or called a twenty-four-hour courier service, but it’s so much more fun making her do it. That and she probably thinks that this is all just a game to get her into bed. Maybe a part of me does want that, but this is also about recognizing when one of my staff is unhappy and seeing how far they’ll go to get what they want.
I pour myself a drink and wait for her to arrive with the files. I’m impressed when it takes her less than half an hour to get from her place to the office and then to my apartment. I’m standing at the door, leaning against the frame when she exits the lift. She flushes when she sees me. I smirk back. She doesn’t need to know I’ve been standing like this, waiting, for the last ten minutes.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to use the door or the balcony again,” I tease her. She scowls at me and steps forward, pressing the file firmly against my chest. Then, she steps back to examine me. “Thanks,” I say. I saunter back inside and over to the kitchen, tossing the files onto the counter. “It turns out I didn’t need them so urgently, after all.”
