Mr. London

by Margot Scott

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Mr. London

  Margot Scott

  Mr. London

  Copyright © 2018 Rich Mixture Inc.

  All rights reserved

  The book contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be re-sold or given away, reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, or stored in or introduced into an information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the copyright owner.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, are entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Murphy Rae

  Interior book design by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my husband. Thank you for believing in me.

  Chapter 1

  The first Tuesday in February was a typical London day. Raining, wet, and foggy. A day to be inside curled up in bed reading a good book or binge watching movies on Netflix. I walked down the sidewalk, umbrella in hand, slim leather briefcase in the other, and wondered how the upcoming interview would go.

  I wanted this job more than anything else. I’ve been working at McCall Enterprises for the last three years in the Atlanta, Georgia office, my second job out of college, and I love it. A real-estate development company, specializing in upscale, luxury hotels. It’s challenging work with long hours and boundless paperwork. When the job opening for executive assistant to the CEO of the company became available, I just knew I had to go for it. It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. And it was the right time, too. I was ready for a major life change. Moving to London could be exactly what I needed. And now here I am, making my way to the head office, butterflies in my stomach.

  I had been warned about who I would be for working for. Alex McCall, CEO and founder of McCall Enterprises. British, billionaire, bad boy. Rumor is he’s a big-time womanizer who does not discriminate. Assistants, secretaries, co-workers. Anyone in a skirt was up for grabs. Literally. However, I wasn’t going to be scared off by the rumors. And even if there is any truth to them, I plan to keep my head on straight and focus on my career.

  Googling Alex McCall had produced little information about him. I found a few professional pictures of him standing outside some of his hotel projects. He is definitely a handsome man, in a distinguished, polished way.

  I arrive at an unassuming four story Georgian style brick building in Mayfair, squeezed between two large white stately buildings, with a bronze plate simply stating McCall Enterprises. Glancing up, I notice a security camera positioned at the corner of the building, pointing directly at the front entrance door. I enter the building, folding up my umbrella, and trying my best to appear composed.

  The receptionist looks at me, peering over her glasses, busily typing away. “Good morning, may I help you?” she asks cheerily. She looks to be around thirty, shoulder length brown hair, in soft waves framed around her face.

  “My name is Katherine Harris. I have an eleven o’clock appointment with Mr. McCall.” The receptionist glances down at a list of names, a perfectly manicured nail trailing down the list until she spots my name.

  “Yes, I have you on the list. Please have a seat and Mr. McCall will be with you shortly.”

  I sit down in the tastefully decorated lobby, in a beige sitting chair, removing my trench coat and placing it along with my umbrella to the side of the chair. I take a deep breath, exhale, and will myself to relax. Just be yourself. You can do this.

  Fifteen minutes later, I hear a buzz at the receptionist’s desk, and she picks up the telephone. “Yes. Yes, sir. She is. I’ll bring her right in.” The receptionist replaces the phone and walks around the desk towards me, high heels clicking with purpose.

  “Miss Harris, Mr. McCall is available now. If you could follow me, please.”

  My heart pounding in my chest, I smile broadly, trying to appear calm and confident. I stand up, smoothing down my grey skirt suit, following her past her desk. She opens the door to a well-lit hallway, and we walk down the long corridor, passing three offices along the way. Finally we reach the end of the hallway, and I see two double oak doors. The receptionist knocks on the door, waits a moment, pokes her head in, and then opens the door for me to enter.

  “Good luck,” she whispers to me, and then quickly closes the door behind her.

  This is it. Showtime.

  Alex McCall stands up from his smooth brown leather office chair, confidently strides over to me, extending his hand.

  “Hello, Miss Harris. Alex McCall.” His voice is deep, with a tone of authority.

  I place my hand in his, shake his hand, and feel a jolt of electricity shoot through my body. “Hello, Mr. McCall. Nice to meet you.”

  At six feet tall, dark brown hair with just a slight hint of silver at his temples, blue eyes, slim with a muscular build, around forty. He is certainly a gorgeous man. The internet photos don’t do him justice. Not to mention the British accent. Oh, that British accent….

  Get it together, Katherine. Focus on the interview.

  “Please, call me Alex. Have a seat.” He pulls a chair out for me, and I sit down. Alex walks back around to his sprawling desk, sits down in his leather chair, and leans back. His hands clasped in front of him, he looks me in the eye, his blue eyes piercing into mine, as though he is analyzing me, assessing me.

  “I understand you’ve worked for me for three years now, at the Atlanta office. Under the direction of Thomas Rolland,” Alex says, jumping right into the interview.

  “Yes, that’s right,” I replied.

  “Three years is a long time. Tell me about your duties there.” He shifts in his seat, waiting for my reply, not taking his eyes off me.

  I cleared my throat. “Well, I have many responsibilities including managing Mr. Rolland’s schedule, booking meetings and scheduling conferences. I prepare correspondence on his behalf as needed. Keep the database updated daily. I also assisted on the Windsor Hotel project.”

  Windsor Hotel and Spa is Atlanta’s largest hotel and spa to date. It’s all modern glitz and glamour. Marble, gold, and glass throughout. Infinity swimming pool with a glass bottom. A to-die-for spa. Five star restaurant, of course. All of Atlanta’s rich and famous have been there to see and be seen. It was a challenging project and one which I learned a lot, especially as the main office contact for the project manager.

  “Ahh, yes,
the Windsor Hotel. I’m very proud of that project. It’s one of my favorite developments so far.”

  So it should be. The hotel has only been in operation for a year and has already doubled its expected profits. “Yes, it’s a beautiful property,” I agree.

  “I see on your CV you graduated from University of Georgia with a degree in Business Administration,” he states, glancing at a piece of paper in front of him.

  “That’s right. I attended University of Georgia, graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Business Administration, minor in Paralegal Studies. After college, I worked at a law firm which specialized in real-estate. I did that for a year, and decided I wanted to learn more about the development side of real-estate. I got the job working as Mr. Rolland’s assistant and I’ve been with McCall Enterprises ever since.”

  I paused for a moment, allowing myself a good look at Alex. He was wearing a crisp white button down shirt, grey suit, light blue tie, silver cuff links. The tie made his blue eyes sparkle. It was difficult not to stare at him. There was something about the way he carried himself – full of confidence.

  Alex nods, listening, and then states, “As you know, this position requires that the person hired will be working with me, directly. I need someone who is organized and efficient. Someone reliable.”

  “I’ve been with the company for awhile now, and I understand how important organization and reliability are to the day-to-day operations of the company,” I respond.

  Alex pauses slightly, before saying, “Besides being organized and efficient, I’m looking for someone who can think ahead, someone who can anticipate my needs…” He trails off.

  I sat there, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He didn’t. He sat, waiting patiently for my response. I felt a hot flush spreading across my chest.

  “Yes, uh, of course, Mr. Mc-er…..Alex.” I stammered. I take a deep breath. “I feel that I have the experience to be able to handle this job,” I said, recovering quickly. “I would really appreciate the opportunity to be given a chance to prove myself to you and to this company.”

  “Good,” Alex replies. “And how do you feel about moving from Georgia to London? That’s a big move to make.”

  “I’m at a point in my life where I’m ready for a change,” I reply. “I think this would be a great opportunity for my career. I’m sure there’ll be challenges along the way, but I welcome those challenges. I know that with change comes growth.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Alex says, raising an eyebrow. “In my experience, change is a good thing.”

  “It can be,” I respond, forcing myself to maintain eye contact with him.

  He smiles, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Katherine.”

  We stand and shake hands again, the feel of his hand sending another jolt of excitement through my body. “Thank you for coming in today, and I hope you have a safe trip home. My receptionist will be in touch.”

  I gather my briefcase and coat, hoping that I had made a good impression. Alex walks with me to the door, opening it for me.

  “Goodbye, Katherine.”

  “Goodbye, Alex, and thanks again.”

  We hold each other’s gaze just for a moment, and then I leave his office, struggling to get my coat on. I feel slightly dazed. Alex McCall lived up to his reputation, that’s for sure. Handsome. A man who is in control. A man who could simultaneously make you weak in the knees and make you run for the hills.

  You did fine. You got through it.

  I walk out of the building, breathing in the cool, damp air. I was proud of myself for trying and relieved the interview was over. Time to sit back and let whatever happens, happens.

  Time for lunch and then some retail therapy. I smiled and hailed a cab.

  Alex stood in his office doorway, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Katherine walk down the hallway. He turned back into his office and sat down at this desk. He smiled. He liked her. She was exactly how he thought she would be. Smart, focused, yet she had a calmness about her. And completely unaware of her physical beauty. Alex opened the file labeled Harris, K., and looked at her photograph. Chin length natural blonde hair, blue eyes, 5’5” frame. She had an all-American look that was very appealing to him. Mmm…..very appealing indeed.

  Alex buzzed his receptionist. “Sandra.”

  “Yes, Alex?” she asked, snapping to attention.

  “Cancel the rest of the interviews. The position has been filled.”

  Chapter 2

  “Where’s the file on the Belvedere development?” my boss, Thomas Rolland asks, an edge to his voice.

  “It’s right here. Let me get it,” I said, rifling through the filing cabinet, praying I could lay my hands on it quickly, before my boss could get any more impatient.

  “Here it is,” I quickly handed it over to him, hoping this was all he wanted and he would leave so I could get on with my work in peace. Ever since I returned from the interview in London, Mr. Rolland has been riding my ass. Get me this, get me that. I can’t seem to do things quick enough. Asshole. God, I hope I get the promotion.

  Not that Thomas Rolland was ever an angel to work for. Impatient, demanding, and tough as nails. He expects a lot out of his employees. But straight as an arrow. And that’s saying a lot in a business full of dirty people doing dirty deals, especially when official government permits are required.

  Thankfully this was all he needed and he left my office without saying another word. It was Friday afternoon, it had been a long week, and all I really wanted to do was go home early. No chance of that. Sighing, I looked at the stack of reports on my desk and knew I would be working late.

  A soft knock on my door, then Heather pokes her head in. “Hey, you. I just saw that asshole coming out of your office, and I thought I would come and check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

  Heather’s title is office manager. Unofficially, she’s the peace maker and the person I go to for any crisis, professional or otherwise. She started working for the company four years ago and took me under her wing when I first started. Curly dark brown hair, petite, and funny as hell, Heather always makes me laugh.

  “I’m okay, thanks,” I reply, laughing.

  “Listen, some of us are going out tonight for drinks at Magnolia’s. Why don’t you come with us?”

  “I don’t know……maybe.” I give Heather a weak smile.

  Heather puts her hand on her hip, cocking her head to the side. “Come on, you need to get out. You won’t ever get over him if you don’t get out more.”

  After five years of dating Bradley and he still hadn’t put a ring on it, I finally realized he never would. Not that breaking up with Bradley was all that difficult to do. A man-boy who at the age of thirty was still living at home with his mother, still playing video games, and still had no idea what to do with his life.

  Heather, too, had recently broken up with her boyfriend of two years, but unlike me, she was going out at every opportunity. Since her break up, she’s had a string of one night stands, which she seems to enjoy giving me a full detailed report on each and every lover she’s had.

  “OMG, Katherine, he had the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.” Or “His tongue technique was amazing” or the latest “At one point I had to ask him ‘Is it in yet?’ She’s even tried to hook me up with some of the men she’s screwed. I always politely decline.

  “I’m swamped with work,” I said, nodding towards the stack of reports. “But thanks anyway.”

  “Have you heard anything about the job in London?” she asked. Heather had already informed me all about Alex McCall, before I had left for the interview. She said she’d met him once at a company conference. “He’s hot. And he looks like trouble, if you know what I mean,” she had said.

  “No, nothing at all. And it’s been two weeks. I really want the job, Heather. I think it’s exactly what I need right now.”

  And it was. I needed a change. A major change. Moving four thousand miles
away to a new country and a new job was about as major a change as you could get.

  Heather agreed, saying, “I think it would be a great move for your career. Plus, all the hot British guys,” she said, winking. “But you know how sorry I would be to see you go.”

  “I know. And so would I,” I said, smiling warmly at her.

  “Let me know if you change your mind about tonight. And don’t stay too late. It’s Friday. Go home and relax.” Heather waves goodbye, closing the door behind her.

  Two and half hours later, I push back from my desk, exhausted. Everyone in the office has left for the day, ready to start their weekend. Time to go home. I stand and stretch, begin straightening up my desk before I leave. My cell rings, the sound drifting up from my purse. Probably Heather begging me to come have a drink. I open my bag, grab my phone and frown. It’s a number I don’t recognize. I don’t usually answer if it’s a number I don’t know, but something told me to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Katherine.” the voice on the other end is deep and soothing and British. My heart begins to pound. It’s him.

  “Yes, this is Katherine,” I reply, clearing my throat, hoping I sound professional.

  “Katherine. This is Alex McCall. I hope I’m not interrupting you. Do you have a few moments?”

  “Sure.” I peek my head out of the office door, taking a look around. The lights are off in the rest of the office, with no one in sight.