AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I did,” I finally insist before meeting his expression.
His eyes are a stern shade of blue, though he’s wearing the outfit I left for him down to the black loafers. It’s funny how the crisp, professional look dispels some of the hostility cast by his scowling expression. Almost.
“I took some time for myself,” I reiterate. “I had fun. What makes you think otherwise?”
“Fun. Hmph.” Grunting, Bellamy tosses a folder across his desk and snatches a pen from the neat row in his drawer. “My boxers were color-coded to my slacks and arranged according to thread count,” he says. “Maria doesn’t have that level of… dedication.”
“Maybe she picked up some new tricks?” Before he can counter me, I reach into my bag and withdraw today’s breakfast—an apple, a cup of oatmeal, and a freshly-buttered piece of multi-grain toast. “Eat. I’ve already set up the boardroom for this afternoon’s corporate meeting. I’ve had Ann type up the itinerary, and perhaps later, we can talk about my contract—”
“Good. I’ll tellAnnto meet me there,” Bellamy says, cutting me off. He glances up and drills his gaze into mine to bolster the effect of his next words. “You won’t accompany me today.”
“W-What? Why not?” There’s a whine in my tone that I can’t suppress. At the thought of more “time off,” my palms feel slick. “I really don’t need any more—”
“I’m meeting with Adrian Riley again tonight. You will accompany me, but I need you to wear something—” He gives me a quick appraising with a sweep of his eyes. “Elegant,” he declares, settling on what I assume is the politest term he comes up with. “You can model the new collection, no expense spared. I’ve even arranged for you to work with a personal stylist at the flagship boutique. Please consider it a gift.”
The concept instantly puts me on guard. ApoliteGraeme Bellamy is a rare creature only seen when his usually smoldering temper has reached near glacial levels. When normal people start kicking in doors and punching walls, Graeme Bellamy throws around the word “please.”
“Elegant,” I repeat, glancing down at my current ensemble. “As in a pantsuit?” I picture the sleek one worn by Mr. Adrian’s associate, Dahlia. Something tells me that without her ample attributes, such an outfit wouldn’t have quite the same effect on me.
“More like adress,” Bellamy scoffs as if the word were some deadly disease. “I’ve made you an appointment with our head stylist. Nine a.m. sharp. Pick out something suitable for…”
“A business meeting?” I guess, going off his “dark” suggestion.
“No.” He frowns and seems to chew over his next words before spitting them out. “Something fit for acasualgathering at a private club.”
“A club? Like the club you and Adrian Riley spoke about?” My eyebrow shoots into a wayward fringe of hair before I can help it. Graeme Bellamy and “club” are subjects that don’t even belong in the same sentence, unless separated by some clinical word or phrase. Something like“Young Billionaire’s Club,” “Super Rich Club,” or “Asshole Boss’ Club.”
I wait for him to fill in the blank, but rather than rudely bark out some form of clarification, he rolls his eyes instead. “Give me the damn granola.”
Right. I’ve been holding his breakfast hostage during our conversation.
I start forward and lay out the items neatly on his desk. He sinks his teeth into the apple just as his personal secretary, Ann, pokes her head through the doorway. Meek and petite, Ann Delany is the one person in the world I’ve ever seen Mr. Bellamy show some sort of restraint with.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Bellamy, but one of the executives mentioned something about needing to take an emergency flight out of state in a few hours, and they wanted to know if you could push up the meeting to… now—”
“Bloody hell.” He tosses the apple aside and lurches to his feet. “I’m coming,” he tells Ann, who promptly scurries back into the hall. “And you—” He fixes his gaze on me while straightening his tie. “You leave. James is waiting out front.”
“Why can’t I just go shopping after I get off?”
He hesitates, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob with a twisted mixture of anticipation and admiration. He can seem so dangerous like this. Thoughtful and quiet, almost like a normal, breathtakingly handsome man who isn’t driven by ruthless ambition. My mind wanders dangerously, imagining how that stern jaw would seem in a context outside of this office. Like in a bedroom, with those lips forced to occupy something other than a sales pitch…
“Because,” he declares, snapping me back to reality. “I don’t need you to be your usual self tonight. I need you to be—” He swallows again, seeming to fish for the right words. At the same time, his eyes track over my face and then downward, raising goosebumps as they go. “Likethem.”
Who, exactly? He doesn’t say. Instead, he storms off. Only when he’s halfway to the boardroom does he glance back and mutter, “If I could be there, I would. Take this seriously. That’s an order.”
Dismissed, I can only stand and watch him follow Ann. Once again, I’m forced to navigate my day without the one person I’m being paid to babysit. He didn’t even finish his breakfast—a fact that I know will come to bite us all in the ass later when his sugar drops and his already infamous temper turns feral. I’m tempted to nag him into taking at least a bite of granola. I’ve only flinched toward the desk when his voice reaches back to me, as sharp as a whip.
“Gonow, Evelyn.”
Gritting my teeth, I force myself to leave his office and march toward the elevators. By the time I exit the front entrance, James stands beside the Mercedes, ready to ferret me away. “Ready, Miss?” he questions as I clamor onto the back seat.
I’mnotready. Nothing good happens when things don’t go according to schedule—and not once, or twice. This is the fourth time in two days that Graeme Bellamy has acted out of character. Hell, he’s even been erratic if I wanted to get dramatic about it.
First, Adrian Riley.
Then, his unusually long temper tantrum yesterday and my unrequested time-off.
And today… this—sending me away in the middle of the day for a shopping excursion?
