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“An asshole?” I fake astonishment, as if I've never overheard employees describe me that way. Hell, I’ve always personally acknowledged being one.
“You want me to be honest?” She asks for permission. Cute.
When I nod she continues. “Well, you aren’t the nicest person around. You can be short with others, are occasionally heartless, and you frequently make it clear that it’s your way or the highway. I get it though; this company is all you have. I would want the best for my brand if I were in your shoes. But you sometimes yell at the staff, and you often don’t offer an explanation for your behavior or your decisions, so you have this reputation.”
I know the reputation she speaks of. This isn’t the first time it’s been brought up.
“And you’re okay working for an asshole?”
“You aren’t an asshole to me.”
“No?”
“I mean, you have your moments, but underneath it all I know you genuinely care for everyone here. I feel like I can get through to you, or at least meet you halfway.”
“So, you’re calling yourself an asshole as well?” I smirk.
“I have those tendencies, I suppose.” she shrugs.
I laugh lightly and shake my head as I stand to my full height and take the seat beside her.
“I don’t believe that for one second,” I say, my voice just above a whisper.
She looks at me and I can see it in her eyes. She is curious about me, and she’s definitely attracted to me. I can see the telltale signs.
“The gala on Friday night. You’re attending, as my date,” I state as I stand and return to my chair behind the desk. I move the files that Maggie brought in to the side of my desk and fold my hands in front of me.
“Your date, sir?” she asks, confused. “I wasn’t planning to attend the gala. I can’t. I don’t have a dress. I haven’t scheduled an appointment to have my hair done, my makeup, a pedicure…” Her voice trails off as she stares absently at the side wall with worry. Though she spoke her thoughts out loud, they likely they weren't meant for me.
“Those are not valid reasons for you to say no. I have people who will take care of all that for you and I will have a car pick you up at six.”
“Sir, I’m a little confused. From what I've seen in the press, you usually already have someone lined up to take with you to these events. Why me?” she asks, standing.
She's right. In the past, I have always hired a stand-in escort to attend events with me. It seemed the best solution to have someone who wouldn’t ask for more time or emotion than I would care to give, someone I could trust to be discreet, and someone who would be available to me if I so choose. I've never indulged in that benefit of the agreement, but the option was always there. I’d just needed someone who knew her duty was to smile and be present, so I wasn’t presented to the public as a complete recluse. Because, even though I do keep myself isolated, I need to maintain appearances for the benefit of my company. Sometimes those appearances include the image that I have a personal life.
“Because I would rather that you attend,” I reply honestly.
“But why?” she prods.
“Isabella. Do I need a reason to take a beautiful woman anywhere?” I ask her, knowing that this is no way professional of me.
“No, sir. I’m just wondering, why me? I've seen pictures of the women you’ve attend these things with in the past. They are very striking women.”
“Because I would be honored to take you as my date. You are very striking and I think that we would make a good team to best represent Adams Enterprises at the event. Although, it’s a night of fun and not of work.”
After a moment of hesitation, she asks, “Is my attendance part of my review, sir?”
“Not at all. I consider your review complete. But I do hope for your company.”
She blushes, looks at her feet and then as she looks up with a tentative smile.
“As long as my attendance does not interfere with my employment and it's just a night of enjoyment,” she replies.
“Good.” I switch gears. “Now that all of that is done and settled, I have a few requests for this week and the meetings that are planned.” We continue talking about the business side of things for the remainder of the hour, even though I would much rather discuss the gala and what could happen afterwards or – hell – even during.
As the day wears on, I pass Bella’s desk several times. Each time, I catch her curious eyes on me as I either walk to or from my office. Her smile is innocent, but also hides a secret. A few times I noticed her blush as she resumed her work. I feel like we have shared something, something deeper than boss and employee, and I hope that she feels the same.
This is going to be a long week.
