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I told myself not to hurry as I headed down, but Sophie had mentioned to me just how punctual he likes being to everything, and given the current traffic in the city, I saw a reason in this, so I headed down as quickly as possible in four-inch heels.
It took a little while to find him, but eventually, I met him seated and formally dressed with his phone in hand, and I had to stop in my tracks. One of the staff had pointed me to where he was, which was in a seat obscured from public view by a tall palm plant, so he had indeed been difficult to find.
I wished truly that I could scold him as I approached, but I behaved myself and had a smile ready for him as soon as I arrived and met his gaze.
“Sir,” I greeted, and at first, he didn’t look up. But when I repeated the greeting, he raised his head and finally acknowledged my presence.
Was he doing this on purpose? I wondered. Being a jerk or was it just the boss's syndrome?
If I was new to being a personal assistant, I would have assumed that all bosses were this way, but this was not the case at all. I understood now that it was based on choice and character because I’ve had the most considerate of bosses in the past.
But this one, however, was a bit frigid. When I recalled, though, that he had saved my life just a few hours earlier, I sighed and rolled my eyes. Gratitude and patience were the way to go, then, so I managed a smile as I stared at him.
He looked at me in return, and it was as though he was studying me. For a moment, I wondered if there was something on my face until he rose to his feet, and I realized he was just being mysterious as usual. I wondered if he did this on purpose as well.
I was particularly wondering about a lot of things concerning him, I realized, and I wasn't particularly happy about it.
He looked impeccable, though I couldn't help but admit as I watched him walk ahead of me. He was a bit more casual than usual today; instead of a suit, he had on a tweed dark green blazer and a stark white shirt opened at the collar. I had packed for him but hadn't paid attention to this, I realized. In my hands, they were just clothes, but on his body, they looked like a piece of art. They hugged every bulging bicep and complemented his frame so deliciously.
I wasn't surprised now, though, that he looked the way he did given just how powerful he had swum through that scary pool. Most CEOs who worked as hard as he did focused more on their work to the exclusion of everything else, but it seemed he had the time set aside for his health, and it was something to admire.
I, on the other hand, was dressed extremely formally. I had read up a bit on the investor we were going to meet and was told to be in line with the formal attire, needing to prove oneself and importance in every way. So he was going to be in a suit, and I had to reflect the same level of seriousness.
I'd gone for a white pantsuit paired with a waistcoat and the double-breasted matching jacket over it. I wore dark heels and tied my hair back in a bun, but for color, I painted my lips a stark red. I looked great and it made me feel confident, despite the beating my ego had received earlier from my encounter with Lucien at the pool.
There was a car waiting at the entrance to the hotel, and Lucien got in. However, when I started to pull the passenger door open, he stopped me with a command.
"Ride in the back with me."
"Alright," I replied and did as asked. Soon, we were both settled in and making our way to the office in London's evening traffic. It was brutal, but I wasn't concerned since we had more than enough time to spare. It did mean, however, that I was forced to spend more time near him. I had very few complaints, but his sexual appeal was becoming impossible to ignore.
My gaze kept going to his hands. They looked strong, capable, and toned. He had on a very expensive Patek Philippe watch on his wrist that glistened in pure mesmerizing gold, and his scent, once again, was something that I couldn’t stop myself from savoring. It was expensive, masculine, elegant… gosh. I was becoming obsessed, and it truly made me wonder, no offence to Sophie, how she had been able to keep her full attention on her fiancé Jerald all these years.
Unable to curb my curiosity, I picked up my phone and sent her a message.
Me: I need to know how you did it.
She immediately responded. She was obviously nervous about the upcoming meeting and had promised to stay ready and available at all times.
Sophie: How I did what?
Me: Worked so closely with this man for years and didn't jump his bones?
She sent a few laughing emojis.
Sophie: Should I be worried about you?
I couldn't resist glancing at him. He was staring out of the window, deep in thought, hair brushed neatly away from his face and with his hand holding his chin.
She most definitely should, but I couldn’t exactly say this.
Me: Have you seen him without clothes before?
She sent a barrage of knives and angry stickers.
Sophie: What the fuck? You saw him naked?
Me: No, but close and I need to know if I’m the only one who knows what he is working with.
