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She shrugs. “I very kindly pointed out that this was a charity event and that him charging us the same as the mayor’s wedding was a bit much. I said it was a great advertisement for him, showing his goodwill toward the city that he was willing to contribute. Then I topped it off by lying and saying that their competitor was willing to give us twenty percent off if we went with them. After some tossing and turning, he agreed.”
My lips part, my chest slowly moving up and down as I look at the magnificent creature in front of me. I know the costs for this event are high, but I want to lure the people in with the big bags of money under their arms, and I know they expect certain things. I just went with it, deciding it was worth it, and here is this perky brunette telling my caterer to do it for less. She really is something else. And so damn smart.
Too smart to be sitting in front of my desk right now instead of finishing her degree.
Making me trail back to the fact that she got kicked out of Stanford. She doesn’t seem like a girl who has a hard time keeping her grades up. Parties or no parties.
“I’m speechless,” I confess, rubbing the back of my neck.
“That’s alright, because I got more,” she continues, summing up all her achievements from this morning. “The decorator agreed to do the next event for free if they will get a banner at the entrance with their name on it. I didn’t want it to become tacky, so I offered them a mobile balloon stand idea. That way, the guests can all bring their kids animal balloons with their logos on it when they get home and I allowed them to give out flyers at the end of the event. The venue didn’t really budge because they have their expenses, but they agreed to set up the stage and lighting without any additional fees. The band agreed to play for an hour for free to pitch in their part. We need to create a list of all the stuff for the silent auction, and I was wondering if you can give me a list of people I can contact to ask them for anything they’d like to donate. Oh, and finally, I convinced that cupcake shop downtown, you know the one that has their own TV show on Discovery, to give out single boxes of cupcakes as a goody bag.”
She’s beaming at me like a little girl who just walked into the candy shop with a hundred dollars, waiting in anticipation.
The truth is, I don’t know what to say. She caught me off guard when she showed up here yesterday, grabbing a plane before the crack of dawn, and part of me hoped she’d really suck at being a PA. I know I told Rae I’d give her a shot, but I secretly thought Kayla would fail miserably like she allegedly did at Stanford. I’d tell her this wasn’t going to work out, maybe find her another job that was more suitable, and everything would go back to normal.
Joke’s on me, huh?
“Are you gonna say anything?” She arches a brow, as if my lack of words has her thinking I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have, who knows?
“You did great,” I finally admit, pushing out a breath.
“Thank you.” She sits up straighter with a content smile, then grabs the piece of paper from my hand as she gets up.
“Where are you going?” I ask, a little stunned by her sudden movement.
“Getting back to work, boss.” She gives me a wink that’s going straight to my dick, and I can’t prevent the corner of my mouth from curling.
“Hold up.” My voice has her freezing on the spot as I pull out a folder from my desk.
“Since you’re doing such a great job. Here are the other three.”
She takes the folder from my hands, her smile slipping to a frown. “The other three?”
“I gave you the event for next month. That’s only the first of the year. This is the rest.”
Her light blue eyes glide to the thick folder in her hands before they move back up, greeting me like a ray of sunshine. “You organize fundraisers throughout the year?”
“One every three months.”
“Really?” She cocks her head, a look in her eyes that I haven’t seen before. It’s filled with awe and a hint of pride.
“Why does that surprise you?”
“Because I don’t know a lot of CEOs who even attend more than two charity events a year, let alone organize them.”
“You personally know a lot of CEOs?” I mock, running my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip.
“Only the ones that matter. Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, Zuckerberg, Steve Jobs.”
“Jobs is dead.”
“Oh, so that’s why he’s not returning my calls?” She brings her index finger to her lips, her eyes moving up to the ceiling.
“Cute,” I titter.
“Now, be careful, Mr. McKay.” She playfully gives me a reprimanding expression, and I watch her with my lips pressed together in amusement. “Calling an employee ‘cute’ could be interpreted as flirting. We wouldn’t want to give the rest of the office the impression we have a special relationship, now do we? Don’t make me call HR.”
I stay quiet, my nostrils flaring as I hold her daring gaze, my hands folded in front of my chest. She seductively bites her lip like a little minx and there are at least a dozen comments on my tongue that I want to blurt out. All of which are definitely not allowed between office walls, but it’s taking a lot to keep my mouth shut.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” A smile wants to break through, but I’m able to keep a straight face.
She scoffs, making her brown curls bounce. “You know I’m funny.”
“Do you need anything else?”
Her lashes lower, a lazy look forming in her eyes. “Why? Are you here to meet my needs?”
My dick springs to life, painfully growing in my jeans, my only hope of hiding the effect of her words being the fact that I’m sitting behind my desk.
“Kayla,” I scowl.
“What?” she shrieks, putting on an innocent pout that doesn’t match her sassy eyes. “I was talking about lunch. What are you having for lunch?” she asks sweetly.
“Get out,” I huff as I pinch the bridge of my nose, with my dick sitting between my legs in agony.
“I’m kidding, Bodi! You don’t have to be so fucking stiff all the time. You were definitely more fun last summer.”
I move forward with an angry glare, resting my elbows on my desk.
“I wasn’t stiff until you opened your snarky little mouth.” I ferociously hold her gaze, watching how a silent O forms on her lips as it registers what I’m saying. “Now get out, Kayla.”
She giggles, unfazed by my raging energy, before she trots back to the door, disappearing behind it with a short wave. I push out a breath when she closes the door behind her, only for it to open up again.
“So, we’re not having lunch together?” Her taunting smirk makes me want to pull her back in here and shut her up with my mouth covering hers.
“NO!” I roar, and she lets out a short cry, the door slamming shut this time.
I can hear her laugh behind the closed door while I rest my head in my hands, my own smile now breaking free.
What the hell am I going to do with her?
