Resisting the CEO: Office Second Chance Romance (Dirty Hot Resistance Series Book 2)

by Emelia Blair

  I nod and wait for him to retreat.

  It’s odd, I muse. This was supposed to be a tough job but aside from making coffee or ordering him food, Caleb hasn’t asked me to do anything. I had been looking through the files for something to do when I came across all the contracts and projects that this particular company was working on, and I decided to look through them.

  My attention moves back to the computer screen and I bring up the tabs I had hidden.

  Not much is known about Caleb Starr.

  He just showed up out of nowhere one day, and started amassing power, throwing opponents under the bus, so to speak. There are some rumors that say he was in prison before being released but there’s nothing authentic to go on.

  His life from before his ascension to where he is, is a mystery.

  He’s seen at selective parties. He’s known to date a few models but never for a long time. He’s single, likes to work, and that’s pretty much it.

  “So, he’s boring,” I say aloud to the ceiling.

  The ding of the elevator has me straightening.

  Caleb sure does get a lot of visitors.

  The clack of heels makes me look up, a sinking sensation in my stomach and I hope it’s not who I think it is.

  Lana Hill walks into my office.

  “Mr. Starr is in a meeting,” I say automatically.

  “I’m not here to see him,” Lana says, shortly as she walks towards me.

  I clench my fist in my lap, watching her.

  She slams a paper on my desk. “What is this?”

  She hasn’t raised her voice but there’s a coldness to it that grips me by the throat.

  I look at the contents of the paper.

  Bank transactions.

  “You spent over five thousand dollars on clothes and shoes, four days ago. Care to explain that?”

  My voice is stuck somewhere in my throat, “I – I was with Mr. Starr. He said—”

  Lana looks even more displeased if possible. “This is company money, Miss West. If you want to play dress-up with Caleb, don’t—”

  “That’s enough, Lana,” a harsh voice says from the side.

  If I had thought that Caleb had looked furious before, now he looks positively livid, his anger something cold and dark.

  “Why are you harassing my assistant?” He takes a step forward.

  Suddenly, I’m scared. Not for myself, but for Lana. I try to intervene, “It’s nothing, Mr.—”

  He snaps at me, “Stay out of this, Kendall!”

  The phrase and the manner in which he says it is suddenly so familiar that I’m desperately trying to place it. Where have I—?

  My train of thought is broken when Oliver’s voice comes from behind Caleb, “What’s going on, Lana?”

  Lana, however, doesn’t seem to be very afraid of Caleb and she picks up the paper from my desk and waves it in the air. “Your assistant seems to be under the impression that company money is hers to squander as she sees fit!”

  My face flushes with humiliation and I lower my head as even Lucas comes out to see what’s going on.

  Caleb snatches the paper from her and after one quick look, he asks, with a raised brow, “This is why you’re here? It’s none of your fucking business what she spends the money on. If someone should be raising an alarm, it should be the accounting department, not you.”

  Lana crosses her arms across her chest and gives him a steady look. “They did. They brought it to my attention and I—”

  “And you decided to get in Miss West’s face, to do what, exactly? What are you trying to prove here, Lana?” His voice is soft and deadly and even Lana looks wary.

  Oliver steps out from behind Caleb and comes to stand between them. “I think we should all calm down.” He’s watching his wife with an annoyed look.

  “I think,” Caleb says, his eyes still on Lana. “That Lana and I need to have a chat. And before that, I ran across Miss West and I was the one who forced her to go to the upend stores, just something I want to clear in case you have any other accusations. And Miss West is not a company employee, Lana. That means you have no jurisdiction over her.”

  I’m not? I blink in surprise at this news.

  “Lana…” Oliver gives her a warning look.

  She stiffens. “Fine.” She marches into the office.

  Both Oliver and Lucas follow suit.

  The door closes with a quiet snick behind them all.

  I don’t see Lana for a few days after the incident and I hear she’s gone for two weeks on her honeymoon.

  Those few days are spent fielding phone calls, setting up appointments, and basically managing the desk. Things seem relatively easy and it bothers me that, while the expectations of the demands of this job are high, Caleb hasn’t given me any solid work.

  So, every contract that passes through me, I study it, acquaint myself with the knowledge, and maintain folders. I arrange the filing cabinet three times.

  Caleb is often busy, and I rarely see him.

  A week later, everything changes.

  He’s on a phone call with one of the shareholders and I enter his office to tell him about his appointments for tomorrow. He waves his hand at me, gesturing me to wait, and I stand patiently.

  He soon seems to forget about me, however, his tone is getting more and more annoyed as the man on the other end keeps talking. Finally, when the phone cuts, he puts it down, standing up.

  “Mr.—?”

  He picks up his cell phone and with inhuman strength throws it against the wall, to my shock, smashing it to a thousand pieces.

  The look on his face is calm but there’s simmering anger under his skin.

  I look at him and then at the broken phone, and then back at him. “Right,” I say, calmly. “I’ll get a phone, same model, delivered in an hour.”

  He gives me a look, before sitting down. “Download all my data from the cloud onto it.”

  “Yes, sir.” I make a small note on my pad.

  I start telling him about his appointments for the day and with the way he’s staring at me, I feel like he’s not paying attention. “Mr. Starr!” I say, exasperated. “You aren’t listening.”

  He leans back into his seat, his dark hair glinting in the sun, his amber eyes holding a wealth of amusement. “Call me Caleb. ‘Mr. Starr’ is starting to get on my nerves.”

  I glare at him. “If I call you that, will you listen to me and actually pay attention?”

  “You can try.”

  I list his appointments again and when I’m done, he says, “All right. Tell Jace from finance to compile a report on the Bertrand Project and—”

  “It’s already on your desk.” I point to an inconspicuous looking file to his right.

  Caleb looks surprised. “When did he—?”

  “I wrote the report before filing the documents yesterday,” I say carefully, hoping I didn’t cross a line.

  Caleb silently reads the detailed report, his eyes jumping over paragraphs, and then he looks at me, a considering look in his eyes. “How long did this take you?”

  “Thirty minutes or so,” I reply, not seeing where he’s going with this.

  He studies the reports again. “Impressive. Write up one for Sears Co—”

  “That’s also done,” I interrupt him. “I haven’t exactly been sitting at my desk, doodling. Just because you’re not giving me work to do, doesn’t mean I’m not going to earn my salary.”

  I don’t know where this outburst comes from, but Caleb’s eyes widen, marginally, and then he watches me in a way that has me very self-conscious, and he has a satisfied look on his face, as he murmurs, “Clever girl.”

  His words strike something inside of me, a memory that has long been buried.

  “I took out the stuffing from the bear and filled it with bread for you!” I smile gleefully.

  “Clever girl,” the response is both stunned and pleased.

  The memory shakes me, and I swallow, looking away from Caleb for a few mo
ments.

  He looks nothing like Harry.

  He isn’t Harry.

  5

  Caleb

  Kendall has always been a smart girl, but this exceeds even my expectations.

  I wasn’t expecting her to take the initiative. But she has. And it’s surprising how she’s created reports that don’t even require a second draft, precise, accurate, well-informed.

  I wasn’t expecting all this but if she can handle this much, I wonder what else she can handle.

  I spend the next few weeks, taking her to business meetings, asking her to voice her opinions afterward. Her business savvy mind is a treasure to unfold. And side by side, the more time she spends in my company, she’s starting to drop this persona that she’s been wearing and I see flashes of temper at times, barely veiled irritation, a charming wit that has only developed over the years.

  What’s stunning to realize through it all is my own growing attraction to her. It’s not unwelcome, but it’s definitely something I hadn’t considered. I don’t know what it is about her that makes it difficult for me to focus at times.

  It also doesn’t help to know that Kendall attracts male attention like flames to a moth. The fact that she’s so oblivious to her own charm barely appeases me.

  I walk out of my office, wondering when lunch is going to arrive, only to find Kendall talking to the delivery guy. Or, to be more precise, he’s talking to her.

  From the glazed look in her eyes, he’s talking at her.

  “Kendall.” My voice is quiet, disapproving.

  She automatically turns to look at me, unable to hide the relief in her eyes. “Sam was just leaving,” she says, quickly. And she quickly gets rid of the disappointed man.

  He is persistent though, even as he walks away. “Well, if you need a guide to the—”

  Not knowing why I feel so threatened, I walk over and slam the door in his face, saying shortly, “She doesn’t.”

  In the silence that follows, I realize that my actions weren’t exactly very professional.

  However, Kendall doesn’t seem to be bothered. “Well, that was rude,” she says lightly.

  I walk over to where she’s plating the food and I scowl. “What was he offering you?”

  “Hank’s a part-time tour guide and—”

  “You’re on a first-name basis with him?” I practically choke out.

  She gives me an odd look. “Well, you do order Vietnamese food a lot from this place. I can hardly pretend to not know him every time he delivers the food.”

  “Switch restaurants,” I order.

  She looks puzzled. “What on earth for?”

  Right now, I’m starting to miss the meek woman who accepted my demands without even thinking to question them. “I don’t like him,” I say shortly and retreat into my own office.

  Kendall follows me. “You don’t even know him.”

  I glare at her as she sets the plates down. “I know his type. And I can’t have you distracted when we have such a major project going on.”

  Her lips part at the stunned look on her face, which turns to thrumming anger. “Distracted? I’m being polite to him.” She sits down at the little coffee table across from me, scowling adorably.

  I know if I push this, she’ll start thinking why this bothers me so much. And that’s not a good idea. Because even I’m not sure why this is bothering me, except that seeing her so friendly with a man makes me feel threatened. So, I change the subject, “You’ll be moving into your new apartment tomorrow. Do you have everything sorted out?”

  “You mean packed?” Kendall looks irritated. “I would have but I’ve been working overtime for the past two weeks. It’s not like I’ve had the time.”

  I can’t say I fault her.

  The project we’re working on is another acquisition, and Kendall is starting to become invaluable to me. I never thought I would appreciate having a PA, but she’s all over the place, gathering information I didn’t think I’d need, doing research, preparing reports, analyzing finance reports. She does set up appointments for me and still brings me coffee, but her role has altered quite significantly in this month.

  “Take tomorrow—Shit!” The bowl in my hand slips and dumps hot pasta all over my shirt.

  “Caleb!” Kendall is rushing to her feet.

  I raise a hand as I immediately strip off my shirt. “Bring the shirt from my other suit,” I say but she’s already handing it to me.

  So busy with changing shirts that I nearly miss the faint blush on her cheeks as she looks away from where I’m now buttoning up my shirt. She hadn’t looked like this when the delivery guy had been talking to her.

  Smugness and satisfaction are a heady combination.

  As we finish the meal, I notice the quick glances she throws my way when she thinks I’m not looking.

  This gives me something to think about!

  “You don’t have to drop me home,” Kendall protests. “I could have taken a cab.”

  Considering we’re halfway to her place, I consider her argument moot. “It’s two in the morning.” I give her a look that signals that this discussion is over.

  A redness settles on her cheeks as she looks away.

  A small smirk lingers on my lips on seeing this evidence of attraction that she’s busy trying to stomp out.

  Parking in front of her building, I say, “Go on. Text me when you’re inside and then I’ll leave.”

  She looks horrified. “I’ll be fine. Just go.”

  I give her a mild look. “I’m not moving ‘til I know you’re inside your apartment.”

  The disbelief on her face wars with the urge to shake me for being so stubborn but I’m her boss so she steps away reluctantly.

  I watch her retreat into the building. It’s only when I get a blunt text ‘in’ that I leave.

  As I’m driving away, I see a man watching me from the shadows of the building and then he glances up at where the lights in Kendall’s apartment have flickered on.

  I feel unease in the pit of my stomach.

  Duke is lounging in the living room watching a game when I walk in.

  Tossing my coat over the sofa in the living room, I frown. “Don’t you have a TV in your own apartment?”

  A bag of chips in his lap, Duke stuffs his mouth full of them before saying, “Yours has better surround sound.” He looks away from the game long enough to tell me, “There’s pizza in the fridge.”

  I loosen my tie and walk over to the large kitchen that has been updated with the latest equipment and take out a large box of pizza from the fridge. Opening it, I frown. “Why the fuck does it have pineapples?”

  “I like pineapples,” Duke replies simply, his eyes following the players on the screen.

  “And you even ate all the pepperoni.” I make a disgusted sound. “Are you an animal?”

  “I’ve been told that by my occasional lady friend.” Duke the looks over his shoulder, leering. “That means I’m good in bed.”

  “I know what that means.” I deadpan and carefully take the pineapples off a slice before shoving it into my mouth.

  “How’s the little lady? Did you tell her yet?” The game seems to be wrapping up and my oldest friend slides over the couch to position himself in a way so he has me in his line of sight.

  “Kendall is…” I chew around the pizza. “She’s more relaxed around me. I don’t want to tell her yet, not until she’s so completely wrapped around that disentangling herself seems next to impossible.”

  That gets Duke’s attention. “You want her to fall in love with you?”

  “What?” I blink at the implication. “No, that’s not—”

  “That’s what it sounds like.” He stares at me. “The only way she won’t leave once she finds out you’ve manipulated her, is if she’s head over heels for you. Otherwise, if she’s as unpredictable as you say, she might just get up and go.”

  “She won’t leave such a well-paying job,” I say with confidence.

  “Th
e little lady’s smart,” Duke points out. “And from what you said, she’s got a head for business. She could easily find a job elsewhere, especially since she’s already worked under you.”

  “For a month.” I wave off his concerns and yet, his words have me thinking. The idea of Kendall falling in love with me isn’t unappealing. At least that way, all the men sniffing around her will cease. I scowl.

  I don’t realize that I’ve spoken my thoughts aloud till Duke snickers. “Jealous much?”

  “I’m not jealous,” I snarl. “Just concerned.”

  “Sure.” He shrugs his shoulders, still grinning. “‘Concerned’. You could always take her to the charity gala next week as your date. You know.” He sneers, “To protect her from any male that takes an interest in her because you’re so concerned.”

  “Get out.” I narrow my eyes at him.

  He’s roaring with laughter as he leaves.

  The next morning, I’ve given Kendall the day off, but I sent Duke with some documents for her with the intention to stay and help her get all the stuff moved.

  The figure from the night before has me a little wary and I can’t get it out of my head as the man had looked up so meaningfully at Kendall’s window.

  So, in the evening, under the pretense of getting some information from her about the documents that Duke had delivered in the morning, I go to her house, although she insists on the phone that she can come to me.

  “I told you not to come,” she says exasperated, her hair up in a messy bun, smudges of dirt on her cheek. She’s sitting on top of a cardboard box, clearly tired.

  Standing in my pristine suit, I tuck my hands in my pockets and look around. “Where’s Duke?”

  Kendall wipes her grimy hands on her jeans and goes looking for the files I’ve come for. “He’s gone with the movers to drop our things.”

  I take a quick survey of the apartment, noting how bare it is, feeling waspish. “And he left you here, alone?”

  Kendall throws me a distracted look from over her shoulder. “Well, no. Max is here somewhere.”