“So, Bentley, did you hear about the Montgomery’s?” my mother asks, breaking me out of my trance.
“The Montgomery’s?” I rack my brain quick. “Oh, you mean how Mrs. Montgomery smuggled millions of dollars out of the country? Of course, I heard about that.” I just shrug at the story that’s headlined most of the local news.
The Montgomery’s are like royalty in Nebraska. Mr. Montgomery’s a state senator who married a woman half his age.
“Well, anyway, sounds like they’re going to brush it under the rug.” I hear the annoyance in her tone.
“I don’t doubt that. I’ve written a few pieces on it, but if they’d ever get the damn police files, I could write an actual report on it. People like her shouldn’t get away with shit like that.”
“Enough about work, son,” my father interrupts. “What’s going on with your new intern? I haven’t heard a single complaint from you, and it’s been what…two weeks?”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair at the mention of Ceci. My mind has been wondering about her since yesterday, and she was the last thing I wanted to talk about with my parents.
“Ah, it’s working out great, so far.” I try to sound casual, so they don’t suspect anything. “I’ve been showing her how to use the software, scanning in documents, reading transcripts, and teaching her the basics. It’s only been a couple of weeks, so as time goes on, I’ll teach her more,” I reply honestly, because there’s a lot more I want to teach her.
“Excellent.” He smiles wide. If there is one plus to this whole being forced to work in my family’s company thing, it is seeing him proud of me. I love knowing he’s happy with my work. “I knew you’d figure out how to train someone underneath you.”
I grin to myself as I imagine her underneath me.
After the not-so-brutal brunch with my parents, I head back home and pace the living room until I finally build up the nerve to email her.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Company Policy
Ceci,
I apologize for interrupting your Sunday. I forgot to give you the necessary paperwork while you were here. It’s company policy that I give you these.
Attached below is the company handbook. Please look it over.
Mr. Leighton
I don’t know why I’m so eager for her to respond, but it’ll make me think she’s thinking of me as much as I’m thinking of her. After our kiss, my entire body has been tense, and all I want is to feel her lips against mine again.
My phone beeps, signaling I have a new email.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Company Policy?
Mr. Leighton,
Do you ever take a day off?
I’ve been there two Saturdays now.
Ironic how you forgot about company policy.
I will familiarize myself with the company handbook right away.
Ceci
I smirk as I read her email at least three times. Such a cocky-mouthed smart-ass. And I love it. She’s not intimidated by me, yet she has to submit to my demands to keep her internship.
And that is driving me fucking insane.
I want any excuse to keep talking to her, but I know I have to keep my distance before I become too obvious.
Oh, fuck it.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Company Policy?
Yes, I’m aware. I was a bit distracted.
Mr. Leighton
It’s a risky move, but I hope she gets what I’m saying. And now my cock wakes up, begging for attention as I think of Ceci and the way she teases me without even knowing it—or perhaps she does.
I need to do something to get her off my mind. Anything.
I grab my gym bag and decide to go for a workout. Lifting and burning my sexual frustrations off will give me a clear head. Yes, that’ll work.
And then my phone beeps again.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Company Policy?
I noticed.
Enjoy your day, Mr. Leighton.
Ceci
I smile as I hear her seductive voice although her email reads so professionally. I don’t know why I read her email over and over as if there’s some secret code I’m searching for, but I do.
I work out harder than I have in weeks. I run myself until my legs feel like jelly. I lift until I can barely raise my own arms. I completely sweat through my shirt before leaving. And my mind is still running through thoughts of her...except, now it’s worse. The sound of her voice, the way her shapely legs walk in that skirt, the way her fingers carelessly brush against me—it’s all-consuming, and I have no idea why.
* * *
By Wednesday, my mind hasn’t cleared at all. If anything, it’s even more clogged than before, and I come to the conclusion that I need to see her and know more about her. I don’t care what it takes.
My condo is twenty minutes from work, and by the time I arrive at my office, I’ve already called in a favor—my secret weapon to seeing Ceci.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Invitation
Ceci,
There’s a criminology presentation with special guest speakers taking place at the Windhover Center tomorrow evening that I think will benefit you greatly in your major and the internship.
I have a ticket for you.
It starts at 7PM.
Bentley
I decide to sign as Bentley—hoping she notices the transition from boss to date.
I grin as I hit the send button. I don’t want it to be obvious that this is my way of seeing her again, but if I request her presence for learning purposes, there’s a better chance of her coming. I can tell how much passion and interest she has in criminology, so it’s my best bet of seeing her outside of work.
I wait impatiently until I hear the sound of a new message.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Invitation
Bentley,
Thank you so much for thinking of me. Sounds like something I’d greatly benefit from. Please have the ticket waiting for me at check in.
Ceci
She’s either extremely naïve or playing hard to get. Either way, I’m in it to win it.
CHAPTER 8
Cecilia
I immediately get online to look up tomorrow’s presentation. My eyes bulge out of my head when I see it’s for elite members only. Bentley must’ve pulled some strings to get me that ticket.
I rub my shoulder anxiously as I wait for the response of his email. I can’t understand why he’s going through so much trouble for me, unless he truly believes in me enough to give me this chance and opportunity to learn more from him. If that’s the case, it makes him about a hundred times hotter than he is already. I’ve never met someone like him—someone so intimidating, yet susceptible to my charm. Perhaps he’s just weak when he’s around me, but if that’s the case, that’s exactly the angle I need to get into the files of my dad’s case.
I sit nervously in my last class, waiting for my phone to vibrate with a new message. Finally, it does.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Invitation
You’ll be accompanying me, Ceci.
Meet me at Sebastian’s Steakhouse at 5PM.
Bentley
Holy shit.
Now we’re going to dinner first? This guy never asked me for anything. Instead, he took them...no…he demanded them.
I clench my thighs together at just the thought of being alone with him in a restaurant. Sebastian’s was an upscale restaurant—much more romantic than a boss-intern dinner should be.
My mind floods with nerves as I anticipate s
eeing Bentley again—outside of work this time. Bentley isn’t a boy. He’s a man. A man who could make or break me. A man who could give me everything and more. A man I could see myself falling hard for.
* * *
I could barely focus on Simon when we hung out on Sunday. He ranted for hours about Cora and how could she hook up with Lance, and blah blah blah. Like I said, I couldn’t focus and really have no idea what he said.
My mind and body were still experiencing aftershock from kissing Bentley. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. I didn’t care how wrong it was or that I was lying to him about who I was. I didn’t want to let that get in the way of being with him, even though I know it could come back to bite me in the ass.
* * *
“Why are you so giddy?” Cora asks me in between class periods on Wednesday.
“I’m not giddy,” I retort. “I’m always this way.”
She looks down at my books and takes notice of the newest Cosmo magazine on top of the stack.
“You are so not always this way, Cecelia Rose West. Something is up with you.” She eyes me curiously, and I can’t stop the stupid grin from forming on my face.
“Okay, fine. I met a guy. And we’re going out tonight for the first time,” I blurt out, and it feels so good to get that off my chest.
She screeches to a halt. “WHAT?”
I decide to leave out that it’s with my boss where I’m working on a fake internship.
“Tone it down, Cora,” I shush. I bump my hip with hers to get her to cool it. “It’s not that big of a deal,” I lie. Inside I was screaming like a little girl who got a pony.
“This is a huge deal.” She links her arm with mine as we continue walking. “Give me the details right now, woman.”
“Well, he’s older, so that’s why I haven’t said much. And it’s new and weird and—”
“Hot?” she finishes, raising her eyebrows.
I laugh as she teases me. “Yes, he’s hot. The kiss was pretty hot, too.”
“Damn girl. You are smitten.”
“I am so not smitten. Have you ever seen me smitten?”
“Nope, that’s exactly how I know that you are. You have never been this way with guys before.”
“That’s because guys our age are immature and annoying. There was nothing to be smitten about,” I joke.
“So true,” she breathes out and laughs.
“I’ll tell you more later,” I promise, because I know she’s going to beg for more details. And I usually tell Cora everything, so she knows I’ll come clean eventually. I just need to make sure to cover my bases, so I don’t get either of us in trouble for lying.
* * *
I can’t stop the smiling, as I get dressed and ready for my ‘work’ event tonight. I find a classy but simple black dress in my sister’s closet with some red heels, making my whole outfit pop. I don’t want to be overdressed or look like I’m trying too hard, but I want to look good for Bentley.
I’m sweating as I drive, anxious about tonight. I arrive at the steakhouse promptly at four-fifty p.m. Being around him at work is different. It’s business. But now, this feels much more intimate. We’re going to be in a date-type setting and the butterflies in my stomach won’t quit. I’m obviously attracted to him, but the part of me that wants to let go and let him in is fighting against the bricks I’ve put up to keep him away. Deep down, I know it’s a bad idea, but my body doesn’t agree. My body craves every inch of him.
I tell the host who I am and that I’m waiting for Mr. Leighton. He gives me a head nod as he grabs a menu and says, “This way, Miss West.”
I nervously follow behind him taking in the setting. The lights are dim, and every table is full of couples sitting in a very close, intimate way with candles lit in the middle.
It feels as if I’ve lost my voice as I thank the host for escorting me to my table, where Bentley is patiently waiting for me. His face is intense, barely showing any emotion.
I swallow nervously as I eye him. The host goes to slide my chair out, but Bentley stops him.
“I’ll do that.” He stands up quickly, and the host backs away. Bentley doesn’t say a word to me as he grabs my chair and motions for me to sit down.
The host places my menu in front of me, and I quietly thank him again.
In the office—work setting—I feel confident and invincible. But not here. I feel intimidated, weak, and out of my depth.
“You look beautiful,” he finally says, sitting casually across from me.
“Thanks.” I swallow hard as I take in his intense stare. He’s eyeing me, not giving away any part of what he’s thinking. “This place is really nice,” I say, attempting to make conversation to ease my nerves. The way he’s sitting and staring at me is putting me on edge.
“Have you never been here before?” he asks with amusement.
This was a five-star, top-notch restaurant that took weeks to get reservations for—certainly not a typical college-aged student experience.
Raising an eyebrow, I shrug off his amusement and try to relax. “Oh, sure. I come here whenever I feel the need to drop a few hundred.”
That earns a small grin and finally, my body eases into the chair.
“Only a few hundred?” he muses. “Clearly, you aren’t ordering the right wine then.”
My heart stops as I realize he’s going to want to order alcohol. I don’t have Casey’s ID with me…shit shit shit…how could I not think of that?
I laugh, so he doesn’t see my panic. “I guess so.”
“Are you excited for tonight’s presentation?”
My eyes widen as he brings up lighter conversation about something that makes me more comfortable. “Yes, absolutely! You must’ve had to pull some mad strings to get those tickets,” I gush.
“I have a friend,” he responds casually and shrugs as if it’s no big deal.
“A friend who apparently can pull some strings.” I grin.
He flashes a cocky smirk. “Something like that.”
I feel like an idiot as it finally registers in my mind. He’s fucking Bentley Leighton. He probably gets whatever he wants whenever he wants it.
And that should scare the hell out of me.
The power he has…holds…controls. A sudden chill radiates my body as I think about what I’m doing—the stakes of the game I’m playing.
I grab my menu and stare at it intently to get my mind to calm down. He sits with one leg propped up on his knee and his body angled toward mine. He probably comes here so much he has the damn thing memorized.
“So what’s good?” I ask, smiling at him over my menu. He’s watching me as if he’s waiting for something magical to happen.
“Everything, of course.” He grins and then it hits me.
“Let me guess. You own this place. Or your family does? Or a friend of the family?”
He laughs lightly and shakes his head no. “You have six food options plus the couple of specials they offer. So really…everything is good here.”
I was staring so hard at the menu to distract myself that I hadn’t even realized. He’s right—there are literally six things to choose from, what the hell? This is the weirdest restaurant I’ve ever been to before.
“A little different than my McDonald’s tradition,” I joke, as if I live on a college student’s budget.
He doesn’t even crack a smile, and I see his mind spinning as he eyes me with concern.
“I’m kidding,” I say. His face relaxes a bit, but it’s still tense. “It’s between that and ramen noodles.” I cock a smile, so he finally loosens up.
“That makes me feel a whole lot better.”
“Oh, come on. That’s like a college student staple.” I smile and finally feel comfortable with our easy-going banter. “Well, for non-trust fund students,” I add, getting him to laugh.
“I guess I deserved that.”
I smirk and shrug unapologetically. A waiter greets us finally, and before he can ask us ou
r order, Bentley rambles off some kind of bottle of wine. I’m fully ready to turn down the offer and tell him I don’t drink as he asks for ID, but he never does. He simply nods and accepts every word Bentley says.
“I think you’ll enjoy the house steak with the red wine.”
“Sounds good.”
I place my menu down as the waiter soaks up every word and says he’ll be right back with our wine and bread.
He grabs our menus and walks away, leaving me alone with Bentley with nothing to hide behind.
“So, um, do you go to these presentations often?” I cross my legs and keep my eyes locked on his. I have to take back the control. I can’t let myself be intimidated by him.
He shakes his head back and forth before answering. “No, not really. I did in college, but not since I’ve started at the company.”
“Well, what should I expect?”
“You should expect to see a lot of old men.”
I burst out a laugh. “Is that so?”
“Well, I’m exaggerating. There might be some college-aged folks and some professors.”
“I’m intrigued. I’ll take any opportunity to learn more.”
“I can teach you anything, Ceci.” His voice is low and deep as if he’s completely serious. “Anything you want to know about journalism and criminology—consider me your endless source of information,” he continues genuinely. I see the confidence in him, and I know his words have a double meaning.
“You’re pretty egotistical for a guy that just graduated a couple years ago.”
“I prefer confident.” He grins.
“I bet you do.” I try my best to hide my smile, but he notices.
Alphas & Millionaires Starter Set Page 48
