Redemption [Book 1]

by Kate Benson

  My mind flashes to the girl I’d bumped into this morning, the way her voice rasped as she quietly attempted to put me in my place before realizing who I was. Her blue eyes, her full lips, her round ass as she walked away… something about having no future incidents with a woman like her makes something inside me twinge with regret.

  I shake the thought and face the nervous woman across from me.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I offer, pulling a look of surprise from her. “I’ll handle it directly.”

  “Of course,” she smiles.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Michaels. That will be all.”

  Chapter Two

  Isabella

  After a stern tongue lashing from Sabrina promising me the very hellacious day I was trying so desperately to avoid, I slip in my earbuds and go to work, eager to dilute my disaster of a morning by lunch.

  I pull up the morning notes and agenda, giving them a quick once-over and getting myself up to speed on where I need to be. As her assistant, she trusts my gut instincts more than I do most days, typically very interested in what I’m able to add to each project. I have a few smaller projects of my own, but the big accounts that come with the even bigger payoffs all have her name stamped on them at the end of the day.

  It’s a little discouraging knowing I’m working so hard to basically further someone else’s career, but I’m an optimistic girl. I know one day all this hard work will no longer go unnoticed by the higher-ups.

  I just need to be patient and keep busting my ass until then.

  I’ve made it through the bulk of my morning, tugging along to Alabama Shakes when my phone begins to vibrate, making me jolt in my seat. When I see her face on the screen, I look at the clock and cringe.

  “I’m coming!” I say, not bothering with a proper greeting. “I swear to God, I’ll be there in just a second. I’m already on my way!”

  “I don’t believe you,” my best friend, Christie, says lazily into the line. “I did the first time. Hell, I even believed you the fourth and fifth time, but you can’t fool me with your lies anymore. I know you’re still sitting at your desk.”

  I freeze, looking around for a second, sure she’s hiding behind some plastic plant somewhere before I return my attention to the phone I’m holding.

  “Where are you?” I whisper into my cell phone.

  “I’m at our table. The same table we’ve sat in for the past two years,” she says with a chuckle. I don’t have to see her to know she’s rolling her eyes. “What? Did you think I snuck into the building and was watching you from behind a plant or something?”

  My eyes narrow as my lips curl into a smile.

  “No!” I lie, yanking my purse up from its spot on my desk and hoisting it up on my shoulder. “I’m not insane, you know.”

  “Well, that’s up for debate,” she snorts. “So, are you on your way for real now or what? We have to talk about Amy’s bridal shower tonight.”

  Dammit. I forgot that was tonight…

  Probably because I’d rather rip my own arms off than go to another bridal shower.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there in a second,” I start, quickly saving my work before shutting off my monitor and checking the clock a second time. “Will you order me a-”

  “You!” the sound of his voice cuts me off, causing me to whip around, surprised he’s much closer than I think. The half dozen other people in my department all spin with me, their eyes falling on me when they realize I’m his next victim, making me even more self-conscious. “My office. Now.”

  “Christie, I’ll call you right back,” I whisper into the phone before dropping it into my purse, Adam Avery’s hazel eyes boring into mine.

  Before I can manage a response, he turns away from me and pushes his door open, hesitating only slightly as he notices I’m still frozen in the same spot.

  He glances over his shoulder and one glimpse of his jaw squaring has my feet moving despite the unease I’m feeling inside.

  All I want is a salad… I think in frustration. How can a lunch hour go so horribly wrong before I’ve even managed to leave the building?

  I head toward his office, avoiding awkward glances along the way and find him pacing behind his desk.

  While my stomach is a mess of nerves, it occurs to me as I step inside his office that this is the first time I’ve been in here since Richard left. He’d always been a firm believer in the old open door policy, which we all appreciated. However since his departure, the door to this office has never felt so shut.

  It’s weird to be in this space now. I can’t help how my eyes begin to roam the walls we’d all been so familiar with up until a month ago. It feels the same in some ways, but in others it’s somehow completely alien, like nothing is in the right place, wherever the right place might be.

  “Close the door behind you,” he orders, pulling me from my thoughts again.

  A quick glance toward my phone as I turn away has me discreetly rolling my eyes. Christie is going to be so pissed… I think as I push the door shut. I’m admittedly annoyed that whatever he needs to speak to me about couldn’t have been addressed in a friendlier manner, not to mention wait until after my lunch hour. However, after my little performance this morning, I think better of telling him as much.

  I’ve heard stories about this guy, that he’s all business, a real hard ass with control issues.

  My laidback, hippy tendencies don’t usually mesh well with those types and the last thing I need is to get on his bad side.

  When I face him again, he’s finished his pacing and is facing me, rubbing his palm over his strong jaw. The action seems uncharacteristically nervous for someone like him. I consider this for a moment before the bright crimson of his tie distracts me.

  “I’m sorry again about this morning,” I offer, trying my hand at a little ass kissing in hopes it gets me to my lunch before it’s over and my best friend disowns me for standing her up. “I’m not sure if I properly apologized before, but it certainly wasn’t the first impression I was hoping to make with you.”

  Taking the few steps that separate me from the chairs across from his desk, I sit, tossing my purse into the seat beside me. When I face him, I’m surprised when his seemingly tense demeanor remains the same despite my apology.

  “Are you comfortable?” he asks, his eyebrow cocked slightly. I can’t tell if it’s in amusement or annoyance.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “So, tell me,” he continues, ignoring me. “If that wasn’t the first impression you’d hoped for, what was?”

  I consider his question, unsure how to answer him and after a moment, I say what feels natural.

  “Pretty much anything but spilling my coffee on you would have been better. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Probably not the best second impression.

  His lips quirk up slightly for a moment before he resumes his stiff expression, giving me a subtle nod. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he thinks my words are funny, but I’m not sure this guy thinks anything is funny.

  He seems like he has a huge stick up his…

  “Fortunately for you, I believe in second chances and I’m in a generous mood this afternoon,” he says. “But I only give them once.”

  “Okay…”

  “I assume you’d be interested in redemption?” he muses, pulling a nod from me. Whatever gets me to my lunch, dude. “You may have noticed my assistant has been absent for the past few days.”

  “I have.”

  “I received a phone call regarding a project Richard was working on before he handed things over,” he continues. “We’re currently in negotiations and the largest of the deals on the table, so to speak, was due to be signed on next month. However, due to a scheduling conflict with our potential contractor, the meeting has been pushed up.”

  “Okay,” I manage, the word coming out slowly and drawn out, still unsure of the direction our conversation is taking or the reason behind it.

  Why would he be talking to me
about an account Richard was handling? Sure, Richard was friendly and spoke about things with us in passing, but so far, his nephew has proven to be the polar opposite in every way. Besides, thanks to Sabrina, as far as Adam Avery knows, I’m nothing more than a lowly assistant.

  “Is there something I can do to help?” I offer, but admittedly, it’s only out of desperation to leave.

  “There is,” he nods, surprising me.

  “Of course,” I shrug. “Whatever I can do.”

  “Perfect,” he smiles gently. “Be ready by seven.”

  Adam

  “Excuse me?” she starts, raising her eyebrow.

  There’s something about her defiant expression that pulls me in multiple directions. One part of me is annoyed, but the larger part is intrigued. I’m not a man who shrinks from challenge, but I’m also not one who handles resistance smoothly in all situations.

  Needless to say, I’ve grown used to getting my way.

  “Despite my forgiving nature this morning, I won’t tolerate tardiness, especially when it means a client might be kept waiting,” I continue, ignoring the way her cheeks flare as she bites her lip in an effort to not let her mouth get away from her for a third time today.

  The sight of her bothered like she is makes my cock jolt, but I push away the thought as quickly as it comes. I can’t get involved with anyone right now, especially not an employee.

  “You’ll need to wear something flattering, yet professional. We’ll be having the meeting over dinner at the Omni, so I’ll expect it to be something appropriate,” I continue, my eyes scouring her figure before they return to her eyes. “Preferably silk and in a deep shade of blue.”

  Although I can feel her eyes on me, I receive no response, something else I’m not used to. The frustration is radiating off of her and rolling across my office toward me, but she says nothing.

  Interesting.

  “If you have no further questions, that will be all for now, Miss Baxter.”

  The phone on my desk begins to light up when she finally finds her voice.

  “I don’t own a blue dress,” she grates out, finally breaking her silence and pulling my eyes to hers. “And even if I did, I have plans tonight.”

  “You’ll cancel them.”

  “I’ll cancel them?” she smirks, although there’s no humor in it.

  “Yes,” I say simply. “As for your attire, I’m flexible on the color, but only just. I don’t like anything flashy or overstated. There’s a place for both and this meeting is neither.”

  She raises her eyebrow, squaring her shoulders as she cocks her head to the side in surprise at my assertiveness. She’s challenging me. Again, something I typically won’t tolerate, but something about the particular challenge on her lips makes it a little less annoying and a little more…

  “Well, Mr. Avery,” she cuts off my indulgent thoughts, her voice dripping with veiled sarcasm. “I think it’s fairly safe to assume I don’t have any attire that you would approve of,” she manages, giving me one of the most insincere smiles I’ve ever seen in my life. “And my plans can’t be cancelled. I’m very sorry, but you’ll have to make other arrangements.”

  “I see,” I nod, redirecting the call to my voicemail, clearing my throat. I stand and make my way around the desk, holding her firm gaze until I come to a stop directly in front of her. I study her silently as I rest comfortably against the edge of the mahogany, our eyes never faltering as I wait for her to crack. She never does and that makes it impossible for me to not be further intrigued. I flash her a soft smile. “Miss Baxter, what is your title here?”

  I know the answer. I read every piece of information I could get my hands on before she ever took a step into this office.

  “I’m a strategic account representative and marketing coordinator as well as the direct assistant to Sabrina Michaels,” she says easily and with a sense of pride. “She’s the head of your advertising department.”

  “Ahh, that’s right,” I nod, my eyes never wavering. “Well, Miss Baxter, my title is CEO, which means if I tell you that I need your assistance with something and ask you to be ready by seven, I expect you to be ready by six forty-five. I don’t care what your plans are,” I continue, ignoring the way my cock twitches a second time at her furious expression. “Unless you were planning to spend the evening burying your dead grandmother, you will accompany me tonight or you won’t need to bother coming in tomorrow.”

  This time, she isn’t able to keep her expression even.

  “You can’t… you can’t do that,” she insists as her eyes grow wide in shock at my admittedly asshole declaration.

  “Of course, I can,” I smile smugly. “In fact, I can assure you the list of things I cannot do is very short and sweet, Miss Baxter,” I promise arrogantly. “You’re the assistant of one of my employees, which makes you an assistant of mine should the need arise. Well, the need has… arisen.” My eyes flash in animalistic desire despite my best efforts as her chest begins to heave just slightly despite her own. “As for your attire, something can be arranged, but that’s the extent of my compromise on this. Do you have any questions?” I ask, another moment of heated silence coming from her before I glance down at my watch and realize this has eaten up more time than I’d anticipated. “Excellent. You’ll be contacted within the hour regarding the next step. There is also a file being sent to your email that will get you up to speed on the main points of this evening’s meeting. I’ll expect you to read it thoroughly beforehand. You will also be debriefed on the way,” I warn, not bothering to look up, yet feeling her furious gaze. “You may leave for lunch, but after that, I’ll expect you to be near your desk should I need to give you further instructions. Am I understood?”

  I can feel her glare on me as she presumably weighs her options, remaining silent long enough for me to meet her eyes again.

  “Miss Baxter,” I face her, raising an eyebrow at her defiance as she rises in front of me, jaw tensed and her blue eyes smoldering as they hold mine. “Am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Three

  Isabella

  “Can you believe the balls on that guy?” I rant, watching Christie shake her head in answer across the table at me while I shove a rushed bite into my mouth, making a face when I continue talking as I chew. “I mean, seriously!”

  “Aww, you poor thing,” she offers, sticking her lip out before rolling her eyes. “You had to spend ten minutes alone with a successful, attractive man talking your way out of a date.”

  “Okay, first of all, this is not a date. It’s harassment at best,” I argue, my eyes widening when she snorts. “Don’t laugh at me, Christie! I’m serious! I have half a mind to call the board on his ass.”

  “And say what?” she laughs harder. “That your boss asked you to attend a work function?”

  “No,” I narrow my eyes at her accusingly before waving her off. “Oh, nevermind. You don’t get it. You don’t have to deal with this shit at your job.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry,” she offers, this time more genuine. “Please finish telling me about your plight and despair from within the executive floor.”

  She’s trying very hard to appear supportive, but it’s almost impossible to miss her amusement at my outrage.

  “You’re lucky you ordered my lunch for me,” I tease, sipping from my iced tea. “Anyway, the whole thing is just unfreakingbelievable. I’m so mad I could just spit.”

  “It’s a damn shame,” she sighs.

  “I know!” I shout dramatically. I shake my head in annoyance at the thought before shoving another bite into my mouth. “And then when I told him what my job was, the bastard had the audacity to smirk at me! Smirked! Like it’s some kind of lame ass job!” I balk. “I’ll tell ya what’s lame. It’s lame that you have to blackmail your employees to get a freakin’ date. That’s lame!”

  “But I thought you said it wasn’t a date?”

  “It isn’t,” I admit, cutting my ey
es again before I smirk. “That particular word just happened to fit better into my tantrum.”

  “Well, regardless, you’re absolutely right,” she agrees, handing me a napkin as she tries her best to hide her smirk. “I just can’t help but wonder…”

  “Thanks,” I take the napkin. “Wonder about what?”

  “How many times have you thought about him naked since he bossed you around?”

  My hand freezes mid-air, my cheeks heating for a moment before I narrow my eyes at her.

  “Zero,” I say, but we both know I’m lying.

  Even as he was ruining what was left of my Friday and apparently my evening, I couldn’t help but notice the way his obnoxiously expensive dress shirt hugged his chest, how he licked his lips before he spoke or how his voice went slightly husky when he said my name…

  “You’re so full of crap!” she laughs, tossing a French fry at my face to pull me out of my trance. “You’re thinking about it right now!”

  “Well, of course I am now!” I lean back against my chair. “I wasn’t until you brought it up.”

  “Whatever. I don’t buy it,” she shrugs, waving me off. “I’ve only seen a few grainy tabloid pictures of Adam Avery and I’ve imagined him naked five times since you got here. There’s no way in hell you were locked in an office with that man for ten minutes and didn’t think about it before I brought it up.”

  “I admit nothing,” I say, reaching for my bag and ignoring her laughter as I move to stand. “Except that you’re an evil little woman and p.s. how dare you?”

  “Where are you going?” she laughs louder as I toss my part of the tip onto the table and replace my sunglasses.

  “I have to get back. Otherwise…” I make a face, miming a slice across my throat. “Send Amy my best and tell her I’m sorry I missed her shower.”

  At least I dodged one bullet today.

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re real broken up about it,” she smirks, making me laugh.

  “Well, it’s nice to be nice,” I shrug.

  “True,” she allows, holding her grin. “Alright, honey. Call me later.”