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Story: A Bossy Proposal
Chapter 1
West
Money can buy almost anything, but it cannot buy what I want most. Not when Felix Featherstone has been hinting at putting a ring on her finger.
By her, I mean my executive assistant, Amelia Ross.
I take another sip of eighteen-year-old Scotch. The burn distracts me from Amelia’s laugh at something a passer-by said.
We’re in the Grand Ballroom at the Ritz-Carlton. It’s full of Silicon Valley’s elite, eager for a piece of NeuroPort’s new neural interface tech.
I should be the one talking to them. I am the COO. But I can’t keep my eyes off her. The way she moves through the crowd is effortless, like she was born for this world of wealth and power. But she’s different. She doesn’t chase status like others when they learn who I am. In fact, I'm sure she’d prefer not to be here at all.
She travels between clusters of investors and tech journalists when my phone vibrates.
I pull it from my jacket pocket and groan when my father's face fills the screen.
I silence it and drain my glass.
Eleven years tomorrow. The memory hits like a fresh wound - standing in Dad’s office, hearing him lay out the succession plan.
“Five years, West. Show me you can handle the responsibility, and the CEO’s position is yours. Another five years, and NeuroPort is yours.”
Those five years turned to seven, then nine, and now eleven. There’s always another milestone to reach, another test to pass.
Amelia catches my eye from across the room. She lifts an eyebrow. She can read my moods better than anyone else. Only she knows when I’m spiraling into dark thoughts. That’s what makes her invaluable as my EA - she anticipates my moves. She understands me.
She’s also the reason I haven’t told the board to go to hell.
My phone buzzes again. This time it’s a text from my father.
Need to discuss Q4 projections. Call me.
I shove the phone in my pocket. The scotch isn’t doing its job anymore. It’s just leaving a bitter taste. Yet I gesture to a server for another drink.
“Sir?” The server appears with a fresh Scotch.
“Thanks.”
I watch Amelia as she steers a potential investor to our neural imaging division head.
For just over one year, she has been my Executive Assistant, and she has become indispensable. One of the most competent people in this room.
She’s the only one who gets the company politics, my father’s impossible demands, and how to manage my life.
“Your father texted me asking about the Q4 projections, West.” Amelia’s voice pulls me back to the present as she appears by my side.
My eyes roam over her face as she stands beside me in a red dress that makes my mouth go dry. Her dark hair is swept up high and exposes the elegant line of her neck, but it’s her eyes. The color of the Caribbean Sea, and those eyes are watching me.
I hold my cell in the air. “I know, and the projections are solid,” I say in a calm manner. “We’re looking at a thirty percent increase from last year.”
My phone vibrates.
This time it’s my best friend, Dominic’s name, that flashes on the screen.
“Excuse me,” I say, touching Amelia’s elbow as I step away. “You’re doing brilliantly. Keep up the great work.”
Her smile tells me she can handle everything until I return. But it’s also a look that makes me forget for one moment that she belongs to someone else.
West
Money can buy almost anything, but it cannot buy what I want most. Not when Felix Featherstone has been hinting at putting a ring on her finger.
By her, I mean my executive assistant, Amelia Ross.
I take another sip of eighteen-year-old Scotch. The burn distracts me from Amelia’s laugh at something a passer-by said.
We’re in the Grand Ballroom at the Ritz-Carlton. It’s full of Silicon Valley’s elite, eager for a piece of NeuroPort’s new neural interface tech.
I should be the one talking to them. I am the COO. But I can’t keep my eyes off her. The way she moves through the crowd is effortless, like she was born for this world of wealth and power. But she’s different. She doesn’t chase status like others when they learn who I am. In fact, I'm sure she’d prefer not to be here at all.
She travels between clusters of investors and tech journalists when my phone vibrates.
I pull it from my jacket pocket and groan when my father's face fills the screen.
I silence it and drain my glass.
Eleven years tomorrow. The memory hits like a fresh wound - standing in Dad’s office, hearing him lay out the succession plan.
“Five years, West. Show me you can handle the responsibility, and the CEO’s position is yours. Another five years, and NeuroPort is yours.”
Those five years turned to seven, then nine, and now eleven. There’s always another milestone to reach, another test to pass.
Amelia catches my eye from across the room. She lifts an eyebrow. She can read my moods better than anyone else. Only she knows when I’m spiraling into dark thoughts. That’s what makes her invaluable as my EA - she anticipates my moves. She understands me.
She’s also the reason I haven’t told the board to go to hell.
My phone buzzes again. This time it’s a text from my father.
Need to discuss Q4 projections. Call me.
I shove the phone in my pocket. The scotch isn’t doing its job anymore. It’s just leaving a bitter taste. Yet I gesture to a server for another drink.
“Sir?” The server appears with a fresh Scotch.
“Thanks.”
I watch Amelia as she steers a potential investor to our neural imaging division head.
For just over one year, she has been my Executive Assistant, and she has become indispensable. One of the most competent people in this room.
She’s the only one who gets the company politics, my father’s impossible demands, and how to manage my life.
“Your father texted me asking about the Q4 projections, West.” Amelia’s voice pulls me back to the present as she appears by my side.
My eyes roam over her face as she stands beside me in a red dress that makes my mouth go dry. Her dark hair is swept up high and exposes the elegant line of her neck, but it’s her eyes. The color of the Caribbean Sea, and those eyes are watching me.
I hold my cell in the air. “I know, and the projections are solid,” I say in a calm manner. “We’re looking at a thirty percent increase from last year.”
My phone vibrates.
This time it’s my best friend, Dominic’s name, that flashes on the screen.
“Excuse me,” I say, touching Amelia’s elbow as I step away. “You’re doing brilliantly. Keep up the great work.”
Her smile tells me she can handle everything until I return. But it’s also a look that makes me forget for one moment that she belongs to someone else.
Table of Contents
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