by R. R. Banks
Vincent
I smile as Olivia comes back into the room.
"Everything OK?" I ask.
She nods.
"So, we were talking about the position."
"You don't seem very optimistic," I point out.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm just not sure this is going to work out."
"Why not?" I ask. "I think this is going to be fantastic. I know it was a shock at first, but I prefer to think of it as a surprise. Like I said, I know you're attentive and dedicated, which is exactly what I need in an assistant. Up until the last few weeks I haven't been spending much time in the office. I was able to keep up. Now that I plan on being here far more often to oversee the building and expansion of several of my properties, I'm going to need more help staying organized and handling day-to-day tasks. I know you'll be great at that. And having you in the office with me every day means I can be near you again."
If it means I can watch you wiggle around in those cute skirts and bend over to pick up literally anything a few times a day, I can make up all the work you'll ever need.
I know my expression says everything I didn't.
"Mr. Preston," she says.
"Please don't do that," I say.
"Vincent," she relents. "I don't think us spending time together is a good idea, considering…"
"Considering our history?"
"I was going to say considering your present."
I look at her quizzically.
"What do you mean?"
She mirrors my expression.
"With Charlene," she says.
I let out a frustrated exhale.
"Because she came in here?" I ask. "That doesn't mean anything."
"She seems to think it does."
"We went to Sandra's engagement party last night. She invited me as her date and I thought it would be rude to turn her down for the fifth time in a row, so I went. I stayed for an hour and I went home so I could get some sleep before my important meeting this morning – with you."
"You didn't know it was with me."
"No, I knew it was with my new personal assistant. I'm just lucky it was you."
I smile at her, but her expression doesn't change.
"She came and talked to me," Olivia says. "She told me about your relationship."
I sit back in my chair, my hands folded over my stomach.
"Oh, she did? And what about our relationship did she tell you?"
"She says you two have been dating since a few months after she got back from Catalina Island after you met at your father's Christmas party. According to her, the two of you have gotten very serious. She's expecting you to propose to her soon."
I don't know if I should laugh or throw my paperweight.
"And you believe her?"
"She was here in your office. She said the two of you went out last night, and you just confirmed that. You likely know this by now, but Charlene is very focused on getting every last thing she wants, and since we were at the resort, you are what she's wanted. I don't have any reason not to think she's telling the truth."
"Let me give you one," I say, leaning forward to prop my elbows on the desk. "Yes, Charlene and I met when my father threw a Christmas party and invited them. Yes, our parents thought it was hilarious we didn't meet up at the resort. Here's a secret for you...that was on purpose. I knew who she was from the day you checked in. I didn't care."
"But that didn't stop you from asking her out."
"I wouldn't say it quite like that. Let me put it this way. She's convenient."
Olivia bristles.
"Spare me," she says, looking away.
"Not like that. She's convenient for times when I know I need a date to something and don't want to go through the effort of finding one. To be very frank with you, I don't have the time or patience to invest in looking for a woman to bring to a business event or dinner with my father. Those events are one of the main reasons I've stayed away from his business dealings, but now that I'm back home again, I’m trying to reconnect with him. That means parties, dinners, and the occasional fundraiser or other event. I'm expected to bring someone to complete the image of the successful, happy thirty-something. Inviting another woman would mean having to deal with the complications of meeting her, getting to know her enough to invite her, dealing with her during the event, and then convincing her that I don't need or want anything else from her. That's not something I'm going to do. So, I invite Charlene. She understands the events, she has the potential to be charming when she wants to, and because she knows virtually everyone at the events, she doesn't cling to me. She might think there's a lot more to it than there is, but I assure you, she is nothing more than a stand-by for me. There is no love. There is no sex. Is that clear enough for you?"
Olivia blinks at me a few times, visibly stunned. I make a note in my mind to give Charlene a call after work. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear from me, but I have a feeling she won't be as happy after the conversation I plan to have with her.
"I –" Olivia starts, then pauses. She thinks about something for a few moments. "OK."
"Good," I say, patting my desk for emphasis. "So, let's talk about the conference."
"The conference?"
"Didn't Dennis tell you about the conference?"
"Dennis didn't tell me anything except that you don't go to the Catalina resort much anymore."
My chest tightens.
"Laurel has it under control," I say. "She'll be glad to hear I saw you, by the way."
Olivia nods.
"Tell her I say hello."
"I will. She was worried about you."
She visibly stiffens, and her eyes harden.
"Let's just agree to not talk about that," she says. "If this is going to work, what happened needs to stay in the past. I think if I can manage to do that, you can, too."
The force behind the words is palpable and though I don't really understand what created the harsh edge in her eyes, I decide to back off.
"Sure. When I asked Dennis to choose a personal assistant for me, I emphasized that the main reason I need such an assistant is because of the conference I have to attend. There are going to be meetings, panels, showcases... it's going to be a busy weekend and I am not going to be able to stay organized and keep up with everything on my own. I need an assistant who can go to the conference with me, attend all the events, and keep both my schedule and my business dealings in line. All that was supposed to be mentioned to you before you took the position. I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Olivia says. "To be totally honest with you, I don't really have much else going on right now."
"No other obligations?" I ask.
She hesitates.
"I do have one other very important obligation in my life, but I'm able to rearrange that as needed."
It's obvious she's chosen her words carefully, and I wonder what she's trying to hide from me.
"Obviously this convention and any other travel that might be required are strictly business and no one else is to travel with you."
She narrows her eyes slightly at me. I wait to see if she caught what I'm really asking.
"There's no one who would travel with me," she says. "I'm single now."
She did.
"Now that we have that settled, let's talk about the itinerary. We'll travel together, so you should be here by six o’clock Thursday morning to catch our flight. Be sure to pack for a variety of activities, including casual, recreational, and formal. Your expenses are fully covered for the trip and you'll receive a bonus in addition to your regular pay and overtime rates for the weekend. Is there anything else you need to know?"
Olivia seems unsure but doesn't argue. I hand her a folder with all the information for the conference and tell her to go home and start preparing. I know this is more than she had bargained for when she heard about the position and I want her to have plenty of time to be get ready. She leans over to put the folder in her bag and I catch a glimpse of cle
avage peeking through the scooped neckline of the white shell under her suit. I remember having those sweet, perfect globes in my hands and want to suck them into my mouth and wrap my tongue around her tight nipples.
She stands to walk away, but I stay seated. I don't need to show off how hard I am just thinking about having her body against mine again. Stepping up to the desk, Olivia holds out her hand for me to shake.
"Thank you, Vincent. I look forward to working with you."
I take her hand and the heat of her soft skin ripples through me.
"Thank you, Olivia. Welcome aboard."
Olivia
What in the mother-fucking holy shit damn hell fuck did I just get myself into?
I need to work on my profanity. I'm not used to using it, but it feels like this situation justifies it.
Shit.
I started the day thinking that I was going to walk into a boring office and learn about a boring business from a boring boss and do a bunch of boring personal assistant tasks. Nothing would have prepared me for those elevator doors opening to reveal Vincent. The day has put me through the emotional wringer and it's not even noon.
Not even noon and I'm driving home so I can start packing for the four-day conference I was going to. With Vincent. Four days with Vincent at a hotel.
Shit.
How am I going to do this? I want to believe what he told me about Charlene, but the longer I sat with him in that office, the more aware I became of the powerful feelings I still have for him. I am much more relieved than I want to be that he's not actually dating her. I want to focus on work and nothing but work, which would have been much easier if he was in a relationship. Now that I know he's not, and I saw the undeniable heat in his eyes, I don't see how I'm going to control myself. But I have to. I can't let myself fall for Vincent again. Even though I told him we needed to put the past behind us, I'll never forget the pain and embarrassment. If I don't protect my heart, I won't just be putting it at risk. I have to think about Aaron and his future.
I'm struggling not to cry as I sit on the plane beside Vincent. Kissing Aaron goodbye this morning was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Up until Monday, I'd never been away from him for longer than the length of a nap. In a week I've gone from never being away from him, to being away from him for a few hours, to now facing four days without seeing him. I know he's perfectly fine with Gigi. He is enamored with her and it's entirely possible he'll barely notice I'm gone because she'll keep him so entertained. I can't say the same for myself. I already miss him.
"Are you afraid of flying?" Vincent asks.
I look at him sharply.
"What?"
"Are you afraid of flying?" he repeats.
"Not particularly."
"You seem upset."
I swipe at the tears.
"I'm fine," I say. "Just a lot on my mind."
Vincent smiles warmly at me, and I feel myself melting in spite of my best efforts to resist the feelings. For the last three days, I've been thinking about the weekend ahead of us. I have to do this. This is an opportunity to pull my family out of the dark place we're in and hopefully get us back on a path toward security.
"You know what always helps me when there's just too much in my brain to think through all of it?"
"What?"
He holds up the glass of champagne an obviously smitten flight attendant brought him within moments of the plane reaching altitude.
"Alcohol? That's your brilliant solution?"
He gives a short laugh.
"I didn't say I was breaking new ground with it. I'm just saying sometimes it's nice to quiet some of the craziness for a while." He tilts his head down to look at him. "You still don't drink?"
My heart jumps at the acknowledgment of another detail about me. Every time he remembers something, every time he mentions a memory from our time together on Catalina, I feel the connection to him I've been trying so hard to pretend isn't there, grow stronger.
"No," I say, shaking my head. "It wouldn't really matter if I did, though. Miss Sunny Skies over there didn't offer me any champagne."
Vincent's head falls back, and he laughs, obviously amused by my bitterness.
"I can get you all the champagne you need," he says.
There's a moment of tension between us and I try to break it.
"What's been happening at the resort lately?"
Yep. That was going to do it.
"Not a lot has changed," he admits. "I've been focusing on expanding my other properties and building several new ones. There's a lot going on. That resort is popular, and I've always liked it the way it is. I haven't noticed any major needs for changes, so, for now at least, I've left it alone."
I nod.
"That sounds like a good plan." A memory flashes in my mind. "What was actually in that restricted area? The one I was walking near the night you tried to kill me on the motorcycle."
He laughs.
"I did not try to kill you on the motorcycle. I tried to get your attention on the motorcycle."
"By knocking me down?"
"It got your attention, didn't it?"
"What was back there?"
"My bungalow."
"Your bungalow?"
"I told you it was the private quarters of the resort owner. I have a bungalow back there that I stay in when I'm at the resort. It gives me some space to myself and lets me relax there."
All the lightness I had been feeling over the last few moments drained from me. I felt my face drop.
"You didn't even want me in your bungalow?" I hiss.
"What?" Vincent asked.
"You didn't just decide to not tell me who you were. You didn't even want me in your space? You got a separate bungalow to share with me. And I was stupid enough to not think it was strange that a staff member would have their own bungalow. It really was all just a game to you. From the very beginning, you never intended on me finding out who you are."
"It wasn't like that, Olivia. It's just–"
The blood runs cold in my veins.
"Stop. The whole time, you really were just hoping I'd get in bed with you, so you could take those fucking pictures."
"What pictures? What are you talking about?"
"I can't do this, Vincent. I should have listened to myself when I first saw you again. I'll do the conference because I already committed to it, but when we get back on Monday, I'm submitting my letter of resignation."
Chapter Nineteen
Vincent
What the fuck is she talking about?
Everything was going so well. Olivia looked like she was relaxing and starting to feel comfortable with me again, then all of a sudden, everything flipped. Something happened in a split second that made her angry in a way that looked like she was boiling from the inside. The flight was mercifully short after it all went to hell, but now we're walking into the hotel and all I can think about is the four days ahead of us. I have no idea why she's so angry or what pictures she's talking about. She didn't even give me a chance to explain the other bungalow. As I think this, I realize there isn't any explanation I could give her. That was, honestly, a complete asshole move, and if I could go back and change that fact, I would.
Beyond the bungalow, though, her fury about these pictures is palpable and radiates off her as she stomps through the hotel lobby on her way to the check-in desk. Her heels make cracking sounds that reverberate through the cavernous space and demand the attention of everyone in the lobby. Not that she wouldn't steal their attention even if she wasn't making so much noise. As furious as she is with me, I've been trying not to notice how gorgeous she looks in the deep turquoise dress she chose for the flight. I'm torn between wanting to stand in her path and demand she start making some damn sense, and my growing desire to throw her over my shoulder, bring her up to my suite and miss the rest of the conference. I feel out of control and I fucking hate it.
Olivia stops at the registration desk and I step up beside her.
"Olivia Alcott, please," she says to the silver-haired man behind the desk.
He shamelessly tries to catch a peek down her blouse from his vantage point behind the elevated desk.
"It's under Vincent Preston," I say, making sure he knows I saw him.
He takes a slight step back and turns to the computer.
"Yes, Mr. Preston, of course."
"Why is my reservation under your name?" Olivia demands.
"Because they were made through the company. I have people coming in from four of my properties, including Laurel, and when she checks in she will ask for Vincent Preston." I take a slight step closer to her. "I don't know why you're so angry. I wish you would tell me. But even if you won't, I'll ask you to remember that this is a business conference and I expect you to behave professionally."
Silver Hair comes back to the counter and holds key cards out to each of us.
"I hope you find your accommodations satisfactory," he says.
"I do, too," I say.
He knows it's not just a sentiment about my aspirations for the ideal hotel pillow.
"Thank you," Olivia says, taking the keycard out of his hand and quickly walking away from me.
I grab my card and follow her. The elevator door opens just as I get to her and we both push inside.
"You're being ridiculous, do you know that?" I ask.
"Excuse me?"
"If you're going to be this angry and accuse me of something I have no idea about, and threaten to resign, you at least owe me an explanation."
"Owe you?" Olivia asks in disgust. "I don't owe you shit. It was a mistake to come here."
"As you pointed out," I say. "And yet, you still won't give me a reason. I'm doing everything I can, Olivia. You have no idea what I've been going through over the last two years since you just disappeared from the resort without saying a single word to me."
That was apparently the worst thing I could have ever said to her. Olivia looks at me, and I feel like her stare is made of shards of glass. The elevator door slides open and she steps out, yanking her rolling suitcase behind her. I reach for it, trying to help her.
