by Amy Brent
The guilt had eaten me raw all weekend, so much so that I had refused to see Alan face to face. We settled on a phone call when I told him about heading into the city early because of a work crisis. ‘Just keep an eye on her,’ he had said. ‘Make sure no one takes advantage of her.’
My throat squeezed itself shut. I didn’t know how to tell him that it wasn’t a random man in my workplace that he needed to worry about. It was me.
“Bring them in,” I said. “I’ll talk to them both and figure out where they are going to go before my next meeting.”
“Right. I’ll go and get them now.”
I waited until Cheryl shut the door to my office. It was on the very top floor of the Crayton, Inc. building. It was as large as a penthouse in all reality. I could move up here permanently if I wanted, but I kept my office spacious and clean of spare furniture. This wasn’t a place I wanted to relax in.
Sighing, I glanced down at the folder with Michael Foster’s name written on it neatly. This was the Foster kid, whose rich family wanted their son to work outside of their business first. On paper, Michael would do good at whatever he wanted to do. Not just in advertising though. He’d be good in the financial department.
That left Violet floating around somewhere. I rubbed my jaw as I thought back over all my conversations with Alan that had included Violet’s goals in life. She was good at whatever she wanted to do. Having a megawatt smile, attractive physique, and flirtatious charm would also help her in whatever I told her to do.
The door to my office opened. I stood up from my chair, grabbing ahold of Michael’s folder as I did. I found my legs rooted to the ground when Violet stepped in. Those long and smooth legs were on display with her pencil skirt hugging slender her hips and ass tightly. Her white blouse was wrinkle free, but I could see a lacy and cream colored bralette through the sheer fabric. Her sun kissed blonde hair was pulled up into a librarian type of bun.
A confident smile spread across her face when our eyes met. The energy around Violet was hard to deny. Even Michael Foster, a well-dressed and sharp-looking young man, didn’t bother hiding the fact that he liked the curve of Violet’s ass too.
Jealousy surged through me. I clenched my fingers around the folder, crinkling the paper briefly before I forced myself to relax. I fixed a stern look on my face as the two of them came to stand in front of my desk.
“Good morning to you both,” I said, nodding. “The two of you have earned your spots here at Crayton, Inc. I want you both to know that I have high expectations here. From the lowest paid employee to the VP of my company, I keep my expectations high. Hard work means a high reward. Sloppy work means that you will have your ass booted out of this company before you even know what’s happening. Got it?”
They both nodded. I found my gaze lingering on Violet as her grin turned into something different. It was a hungry smile, the type of smile that said she was ready to do whatever I wanted. She was ready to please, and that aroused me even more.
“I have specific places for you both here,” I continued, tearing my eyes away. “Mr. Foster--”
“Yes, sir,” he responded immediately.
“I am going to have you in the financial department with the head of my payroll. Any questions or concerns about that?”
“None, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.”
At least his family had taught him to be polite enough despite his wealthy status. Manners were a big deal to me. I couldn’t count how many people I outed just because they were spoiled little brats wanting a free ride.
“Ms. Summers--”
“Call me Violet,” she interrupted, frowning at me. “Ms. Summers is how people address my mother.”
Michael’s mouth fell open in surprise. I stared at Violet as her cheeks burned brightly when she realized what happened.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”
“Mr. Foster,” I said, turning to look at him. “Go with Cheryl. She’ll show you the payroll department.”
Michael glanced at Violet, who looked down at her feet. “Yes, sir.”
I waited until he was out of my office before addressing Violet. “I know that we have close family ties here, but this is my business you’re in. Professionalism is key to a good company.”
“I know that,” she said, voice muffled. “I’m sorry. I guess I just don’t like it when people make me feel like I’m my mother.”
“It’s a respect thing. Here, you’re Ms. Summers. All right?”
“I understand, sir. Where would you like me to be?”
The innocent question instantly put my mind in a place that I didn’t want it to be in. I twisted around sharply when I felt my cock harden again. I stared down at the bump in my pants with annoyance. Getting through the work day was going to be a challenge when I was already bothered enough.
“I need a personal assistant,” I said. “Someone to take my messages, write emails, and make phone calls when I’m not able to.”
A pleased smile spread across Violet’s face.
“That would be great,” she exclaimed, shifting in the pair of ankle boots she was wearing. “Thank you for taking me in here as an intern. I know my mom pressured you into it, but I really do appreciate your doing this.”
"You’re welcome. I hope that you’ll like working here.”
“I’m sure that I will enjoy being your personal assistant.”
I stiffened at the sultry undertone. The corner of Violet’s lips quirked up before the door to my office opened again. Cheryl’s head poked in as she gestured for Violet to join her outside.
“Get her a desk near my office door,” I told Cheryl, gladly sitting down to hide the fact that I was throbbing hard. “The usual ID cards and computer access codes along with a company phone for Ms. Summers.”
“I will get right on it,” Cheryl said, and she opened the door for Violet to step out. “Anything else?”
“Make sure to keep an eye on Ms. Summers,” I said. I couldn’t shake the look on Michael’s face as he followed her into my office. I didn’t want any other males in my building looking at Violet in that matter. “That’s my best friend’s daughter. If something happened to her, I’d never hear the end of it. He would never forgive me.”
“Of course.”
Cheryl closed the door. I listened to their voices disappear in the distance as I gripped the edge of the desk willing my body to get back under control. I needed to do something again to get rid of this tension. This was fucking ridiculous. I smoothed a hand through my hair in aggravation. This was my best friend’s daughter that I was lusting after. This was Violet Summers, the girl I had watched grow up with fatherly fondness. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Everything,” I mumbled to myself darkly. “Everything is wrong with me.”
If anyone asked Stephanie, she’d say I was an overworked sexphobic who enjoyed being cold and distant towards relationships. I couldn’t necessarily fight back against that comment because I was in the office from sun up to sun down, or I was in the air traveling to meet new clients from all over the world. I was never home to carry on with a relationship, but when it had come to Stephanie, I had given in to the idea of settling down. It turned out to be the biggest mistake I could ever make.
My ex-wife enjoyed the worst mistake of my life though. Every month, she collected her checks from me with a shit-eating grin that infuriated me for days on end.
I couldn’t argue my character while my cock throbbed hard for Violet. Rubbing at the tense muscles in my neck, I glared down at the hard bulge in pants that refused to go away. Maybe having Violet as a personal assistant wouldn’t be a good thing if I were going to have this sort of reaction every single time she came to me.
I reached inside my pant pocket to scroll through my phone to find a distraction. I’d deal with this the only way I knew how to deal with it. Finding a woman who wasn’t Violet to get all the steam out of me. That would work.
Chapter 4
Violet
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Cole Crayton’s personal assistant. I couldn’t fight the grin that spread across my face as I took in my large desk across from Cole’s office door. Every single day, I’d be sitting right across from him, and taking notes from the successful business man who’d built Crayton, Inc. from the ground up.
I smoothed a hand over the desktop while waiting for Cheryl to return with our ID access cards and computer codes. In a way, I was being trusted with Cole’s most valuable asset, himself. I got to set up his schedule, meetings, and everything else that he needed done throughout the day.
This was more than I had ever hoped for. Just a chance to work underneath him had been enough. Being near him was a dream come true as I’d wanted him ever since the day I had seen Cole riding one of his beloved stallions shirtless through the Hamptons. I could still picture those toned and cut abs flexing as his hips moved fluidly in time with the stallion’s trot. I had imagined then how it would have felt to have those hips grinding up against mine in the same rhythm before shame crashed over me. How could I lust after an older man? Except, there was nothing old about Cole.
Even at forty-four years old, Cole got up every single morning to run. I’d watched him over Labor Day weekend at 5:30 am, just like clockwork, jog past the fence that surrounded my parent’s Hampton house. He lived a bachelor type of life too. He hosted parties that celebrities attended. He had women flocking to him without even trying. There was nothing old about him. He had a lifetime of experience that I had craved since I was fifteen years old.
It wasn’t until my graduation party at eighteen that everything in me had leaped into overdrive. I had fooled around with the occasional boy who managed to win my parent’s stamp of approval, but that was it. Nothing besides fumbling in the backseat of a car. Sloppy kisses that left me grimacing for days on end. No romance or passion. Just inexperienced hands and lips.
My parents had invited Cole to my party, and to my surprise then, he had shown up with a check for $10,000. “For you, gorgeous,’ he had said, kissing me on the cheek. ‘Don’t spend it all in one place.”
I could still remember how soft his lips were against my cheek. I could still smell that fresh cologne on his skin. Every inch of him had pressed up against me briefly during that encounter, and it had done something indescribable to me. That’s when it hit me then—no one would be able to make me feel the way Cole did.
I had taken one glass of champagne for courage. I was eighteen years old. Surely, he wouldn’t look me as a child anymore. I had followed him out to the driveway with hopes that we could talk. Those hopes were dashed however when Cole suddenly reached into the pocket of his pants to grab his phone. I hid behind a parked car in my parent’s driveway while I listened to that silky deep voice entrance myself and the caller too.
“I’m coming your way, baby,” he had said, voice calm and deep. “Are you ready to be fucked?”
I’d nearly fainted at the question. It was tempting then to pop out to scream, “Yes! I’m ready.” The heat between my legs roared to life. I could feel the wetness coating my inner thighs as I crouched out of sight.
“I’ll be there shortly,” Cole had said, cradling the phone to his ear. “I can’t leave right at this moment, but you better be naked in my bed by the time I get to the house. Understand? Get yourself ready for what is about to happen to you.”
His deep chuckle had filled the hot summer air. My heart pounded furiously against my ribcage. This was the type of lover that Cole was—commanding in bed, confident in himself. No one else ever measured up to the stamina he had. The greatest orgasm I ever experienced was that night. I pretended to be the woman on the phone while naked in my bed, hiding beneath the sheets with my teeth biting into the pillow to keep my cries of pleasure muffled.
“Violet?”
I started in surprise at the sound of Michael Foster’s voice cutting through that memory. That same delicious heat curled in my stomach, wetting the inside of my upper thighs. I clenched my legs together as I turned to find Michael standing directly behind me with a frown plastered across his face.
“Yes?”
“I’ve been saying your name repeatedly,” he said and gestured to the large break room where a few employees were gathered. “Do you want some coffee or anything? They have some nice machines in there that can make different coffee drinks.” He paused to look me up and down with a frown. “Or maybe you need something to eat? Your cheeks are flushed and--”
“Just hot, I am just feeling hot,” I said, fanning myself with an embarrassed smile. “I better go to the bathroom before the day starts. Excuse me.”
My heels clicked against the marble floors in the bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror, taking in my flushed cheeks with a sigh. If this plan was going to work, I had to concentrate. I couldn’t screw it all up by being flustered all the time whenever Cole looked in my direction, or if I got lost in my fantasies all over again. Complete concentration. That’s what I needed to have to be able to get through the days while I worked alongside Cole.
It was going to be so hard, though. His tone of voice during our meeting was stern and commanding—the same as it had been on the phone that one night. He was also dressed in a dark gray suit with a white undershirt and delicate gold clasps at the end of his sleeves. His dark hair that was peppered with a bit of gray now was sleeked back as usual. He looked like a model on the front cover of a magazine. Yet, no other females around the office seemed to pay attention to any of it. They were all focused on their jobs, or whatever Cole’s commands were for the day. If they found him attractive, they kept it to themselves.
“Violet?”
The bathroom door pushed open as Cheryl entered cautiously. She swept a gaze over me with a frown.
“Michael said he thought you were unwell,” she commented. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile on my face. “Just a bit hot, that’s all.”
I could feel Cheryl’s eyes on me as I ran my hands under ice cold water to cool myself back down. Drying my hands, I turned to look back at the older woman whose arms were crossed with a knowing glint in her eyes.
“What’s your story, honey?” she asked. “I’m not blind to the fact that you know Mr. Crayton on a personal level, but what is the story between the two of you?”
“The two of us?” I repeated slowly. The phrase brought a stab of pleasure, but I didn’t let that show. “There’s nothing going on between us. My dad is close friends with him. Mr. Crayton is helping me with some job experience.”
“I know your father,” she said. “Alan Summers. I just want you to know that Mr. Crayton tends to get a lot of attention from the females that walk through the door of this building. This is his business. We don’t tolerate inappropriate interactions here.”
“Like office romances?”
Cheryl nodded. “It’s highly discouraged by Mr. Crayton himself. He doesn’t want that sort of tension in the office.”
“There won’t be any of that,” I said. “I can promise you that. People tend to run the other way after they meet my father.”
Which was the partial truth. Every guy who I did manage to have a brief romance with usually fled in the other direction after he realized the extent of my father’s wealth and power. It was intimidating to face.
“I hope you’re right,” Cheryl said, slowly. “I don’t want to see you get caught up in something that you don’t know how to handle. I have your ID access cards at my desk. Find me when you are done in here. We will go over Mr. Crayton’s schedule and budget.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
I let out a pent-up breath the second that Cheryl stepped out of the bathroom. Concentrate, Vi. You’ve gotta keep it chill if you want this to work. I sure as hell didn’t want to bring attention to my plan. I didn’t want someone to tip off my father about what they might have heard or seen.
I spotted Michael sitting on the edge of my desk, waiting for either Cheryl or me to return. He
looked up as I approached, and a smile spread across his face again. A thought crossed my mind as I let a smile fall into place too. It wouldn’t hurt to have a cover story as I worked alongside Cole. If everyone thought I was focused on Michael, who was admittedly good looking, they wouldn’t think of anything else going on. It was the perfect ruse.
“Is Cheryl back with our IDs yet?” I asked, leaning up against my desk next to him. “I’m ready to get to work here. What do you think so far?”
“She isn’t back yet,” Michael replied, tucking his phone into the pocket of his pants. “It’s impressive here. That’s for sure. I was stoked when they called to say I got the position.” He gave me a long and curious look. “I have to admit that I didn’t know there was going to be another intern here. I was told there was one internship available.”
“My father is good friends with Mr. Crayton. I asked for some job experience, and well, they figured it’d be better to get the experience here than in some other place.”
“That makes sense. I noticed that Mr. Crayton seems a bit familiar with you.”
The center of my cheeks burned. Not familiar in the way that I wanted him to be.
“Just old family friends,” I murmured as Cheryl approached us. “That’s all that is going on there.”
After Michael grabbed his ID access card, he went straight to the financial department to shadow. Cheryl handed me a variety of items—a brand new iPhone, an iPad, a leather wallet with the company credit cards and checks, and my ID access cards. She explained that one of the members of the IT department would be stopping by with a computer for me.
