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Of course, just as I’m about to make a compelling argument for my financial responsibility, Noah appears as if from nowhere. Maybe he’s got some secret teleportation power, or maybe he’s just stealthy when he wants to be. Either way, I nearly jump out of my seat when he speaks.
“Scarlett, you know I’m flying to my cabin in Colorado the week before Christmas. You could fly with me, and the jet will take you on to California after dropping me off.”
Cue shock and not the awe-inspiring kind. I look up at him, my mouth slightly agape in utter disbelief. “Excuse me?” I finally manage to say.
Bossy McGrumpster, standing there with his hands in his pockets, looks almost casual with this absurd offer, as if handing out private jet rides is just something he does every day. Maybe it is, in his world. “I have a jet. It’s available. You wouldn't have to worry about flight costs, and it’s no trouble at all.”
In the back of my mind, a neon sign flashes “HECK NO,” but my mouth is still working to form a coherent sentence. I mean, who offers up their private jet like it’s a spare cup of sugar?
Eve’s voice comes through the speaker, full of disbelief and excitement. “Did some guy just offer you his jet, Scar? Who is this guy, and why aren’t you already dating him?”
“No, Eve, it’s not like that. Noah is my boss,” I say quickly, feeling my face turn bright red. Leave it to my sister to embarrass me. “But… wow, thanks, really, but I just… uh, I mean, it’s not necessary.”
Noah watches me with a kind of patient amusement, as though he sees right through my polite protest and knows I’m totally, definitely considering it, no strings attached. “Think about it, Scarlett. The offer stands.”
I nod, mostly because I can’t form a more sophisticated response in the face of such a wildly generous offering. Seriously, did I just enter a parallel universe where this is a normal interaction between boss and assistant?
“Sure,” I murmur, deciding that rationalization can wait until my brain stops doing somersaults. “I’ll think about it.”
He gives a satisfied nod, almost like I've made his day by not immediately rejecting the idea outright. As he walks back to his office, I look back at my phone, where Eve sounds like she might explode with curiosity and delight.
“This is huge!” Eve squeals. “Not only is your boss clearly nice, which is shocking considering everything you’ve said about him, but you’re also going to get to fly like a freaking celebrity!”
Great. Now he knows I’ve been saying not-so-nice things about him. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” I remind her, trying to reel in the runaway train of enthusiasm on the line. “It’s just… an option. Besides, it’s complicated.”
Complicated because accepting means spending more time with Noah, which means more opportunities for my heart and sanity to become collateral damage in the workplace. Complicated because it blurs the lines I’ve so diligently tried to maintain. And complicated because it suggests that beneath his gruff exterior, Noah might actually be a pretty great guy, which is a dangerous realization for someone determined to keep things strictly professional.
“So, you’re thinking about it,” Eve persists, her voice lilting with mischief.
I can't help but chuckle, still bewildered by the turn my afternoon has taken. “I’ll keep you posted, Eve. Now, let me get back to mitigating this disaster mountain of paperwork, okay?”
“Fine, fine,” she relents, and I can almost hear her smiling. “But remember, free flights on private jets don’t come around every day.”
We say our goodbyes, and after hanging up, I sit back in my chair, trying to refocus on the task at hand while my mind dances circles around this bizarre, potentially amazing offer.
Work time, Scarlett. Worry about impending awkward festive flights later. For now, there’s toner to order and documents to save from oblivion. My own private mental juggling act continues in earnest, spurred on by this unexpected twist.
Chapter 2
Noah
As I stroll back to my office, I can’t shake the question that’s gnawing at my conscience: what in the world possessed me to offer Scarlett a ride home on my jet? It’s not like I make a habit of handing out freebies to employees. My brain does a quick inventory of reasons, but none of them hold up under scrutiny. Could it even remotely be the fact that I’ve been trying to suppress feelings for her since the first day she walked in and turned my world upside down?
The day six months ago is seared into my mind. Scarlett Mosley, short, sassy, and full of life, with bountiful curves, and hair like a blazing sunset framing her heart-shaped face reached right into my chest and stole my goddamn heart.
She had this way of seeming completely at ease while also being intensely focused, and I intensely focused on her. She sat across from me, and I remember staring into her bright emerald eyes, alive with curiosity and intelligence, while my heart turned to mush and my cock turned to stone. She’s a breath of fresh air, simultaneously rattling me and grounding me, which is an impressive feat considering I always thought staying grounded was my strong suit.
But offering my jet? Insane, Blackwood. Now, you’re going to be stuck in a tiny jet cabin with the object of your obsession for several hours. I sink into my leather chair, but comfort is a distant memory when I’m busy berating myself for this sudden lapse in judgment. I’m losing the battle with my attraction to her. Who am I kidding? I lost the goddamn battle months ago.
Scarlett is exceptional and the best assistant I’ve ever had, but it’s not something you broadcast in the cutthroat business world where maintaining an upper hand is key. I’m used to being in control, the decision maker, the one with plans and contingencies. But then the curvy little Scarlett walks into the frame, bright, irresistible, and somehow dismantling every piece of my carefully constructed defenses without even trying.
I open my laptop and try to focus on the barrage of emails demanding my attention, but focus is elusive. My mind drifts back to the moment I lost my mind and offered her my jet. I hadn’t anticipated her reaction—how she’d looked at me, first with shock and then with a softness I didn’t expect. It was almost vulnerability, a rare glimpse through her usually vibrant confidence.
Why did I do it? Sure, part of me rationalizes it as a nice gesture for a valued employee. But the truth is, it’s all about her. If she weren’t the woman who imbues my office with warmth and laughter and a bit of chaos I secretly enjoy, I wouldn’t have made the offer.
But who can blame me, really? She’s captivating, not just because she’s stunning but because she’s always one step ahead, always meeting me halfway with wit and capability. Whatever this is has progressed way the fuck past professional admiration, and I’m steadily losing my grip on my feelings.
The truth is, every day is a test of my resolve. The battle between maintaining boundaries and giving in to the temptation of Scarlett is impossible to win. From her infectious laughter echoing down the hallways to the way she turns a simple task into something magically more engaging, my curvy little assistant has caught me, hook, line, and sinker.
