Page 5 of Surprise Me Tonight (Claimed on Sight #1)

Callum

I ’m halfway through untangling the bastard of a cable bundle in the corner of the office when Jess calls back.

“Right,” she says, without hello. “We’re hiring her.”

I wipe my hands on the front of my jeans and glance at the phone screen, already regretting answering.

“I haven’t decided that.”

Jess snorts. “You don’t need to. I’ve decided for you.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Spare me the CEO routine, Callum. You need a PA. You’ve got two weeks’ worth of flagged emails and you just called me from a stack of printer paper.”

I lean against the desk. “She’s... not the right fit.”

“Really?” Her voice is too light. “Because from where I was sitting, she was the only one we’ve seen who didn’t talk about their five-year plan involving a podcast and a wellness brand.”

“She called me out. In the interview.”

“She had a point.”

“She’s blunt. ”

“She’s direct. And frankly, you need someone who’ll tell you when you’re being a pain in the arse.

” Aside from Jasper only Jess has the audacity to call me out like this but she has been with me long enough and she knows how valuable she is to the company, a knowledge she cleverly uses every year to get her well-deserved salary increase.

I glance out the window. I haven’t stopped thinking about the way Stella looked at me. It was the way she went from shy to sharp like a switch had flipped. The flush in her cheeks. That tight little smile when she thought I wasn’t worth looking at.

The chocolate brown of her eyes had turned almost black when that little fire of resistance flared in her. And now I can’t stop wondering how I’d stoke it again — not to watch it burn, but to control it.

I usually go for women most people would call gold diggers. I don’t mind the label. It’s uncomplicated. They want luxury; I want no strings. It’s a transaction. Clean. No drama, no surprises, no pretending it’s more than what it is.

They’re always polished… sleek, low-maintenance in a high-maintenance sort of way. All designer handbags, salads, and Botoxed smiles. They know the game and they play it well.

Stella, though… she’s another category entirely.

She tries to hide her curves under mumsy cardigans and office trousers that haven’t seen a tailor in their life. But there’s no hiding the full tits pressing against her shirt. No cardigan on earth could disguise the delicious arse she’s carrying under those stiff black trousers .

God help me. I wasn’t trying to notice it. But it was there. Round. Perfect. The cardigan did nothing to hide it. I didn’t mean to look, but I did. And once I had, it stuck.

I shift, sliding my fingers through my hair. The room feels warmer than it should. Jess is still talking.

“... and before you try to fob her off with some imaginary shortlist of better candidates, I’ll remind you you’ve seen five people. Two lied on their CVs. One sent you a selfie on LinkedIn.”

“She’s too...”

“Too what?”

I don’t answer. I can’t say she’s too distracting because Jess would run with that for the next decade. I can’t say she makes my trousers tight when she blushes either.

Jess sighs. “You don’t have to become friends with her, Callum. You just have to be civil to her.”

That’s the problem. I do want to be more than civil. Not in a let's be work besties sort of way. In a grab the edge of the desk sort of way.

And that is very much not what I need.

Still, I have to hire someone. Now. And I need them to be local, competent, and available. And she is all three.

I scrub a hand over my face.

“Fine,” I mutter.

Jess makes a pleased sound. “I’ll call her.”

I hang up before she can say anything smug.

I should feel relieved.

Instead, I picture her standing in my hallway again, pink-cheeked and holding that bloody purple handbag, looking like she was ready to bolt.

I’m going to see her every day.

This is going to be a nightmare.

The run didn’t help.

Five miles across open fields, through mud and biting wind, and I still can’t shake the image of her.

The flush in her cheeks, the tone in her voice when she told me off, and the fact that the only thing I could think about afterwards was how her mouth would feel doing other things.

Things a boss should never ask his PA to do if he doesn't want to get into trouble with HR.

By the time I cut through the village, my thoughts are still a mess. I should have said no to hiring her.

Steam & Bloom is still open, lights glowing warm through the windows. I figure a coffee might settle me. Or at least give me something to do with my hands.

I push the door open. A few heads turn. Welcome to village life.

There’s no anonymity like in London. Here, you’re the gossip of the day the minute you step foot into the bakery.

Jasper warned me about it, but to be honest, I don't give a flying fuck what these people think about me. Let them whisper. I’ve got nothing to hide.

I step up to the counter.

“Settling in all right, I see,” says a voice next to me.

I glance sideways.

“Is that what I can prepare myself for? That you’ll pop up at a moment’s notice wherever I go?” I grin.

“Small village,” Jasper says, sipping his coffee. “There are only so many places we can hang out. I’ll take you to the pub on Friday. ”

“I think I ran past it… the Hare & Hound?”

“Nah, mate, that’s for all the London wankers who moved to Little Hadlow. The born-and-breds go to the Royal Boar behind the church.”

“I’m a London wanker who moved here… and so are you.” I point at him as I step up to the counter.

“We hang with the locals,” he replies with a chuckle.

The barista interrupts us. “Flat white?”

I nod. Quite impressive that she remembers my order. I’ve only been here once.

She turns to the machine. Doesn’t say anything else.

Jasper watches her for a beat, then looks at me again. “So?”

“So what?”

“How are you settling in? Found a PA?”

I keep my eyes on the machine. “Yeah, Jess found me a local one.”

“A miracle, I’d say.”

“We were lucky, I guess. But I’m not convinced she’ll work out.” We move to the end of the counter to wait for my coffee.

“Why?” Jasper looks confused.

“Because she is… different. We clashed at the interview already. Something Jess thought was a good sign, but I’m not sure.”

“You had an argument with her?”

“Well, not directly. She… she was all quiet and shy until I asked her where I knew her from. She looked really familiar. Then she turned into this feisty spitfire, bit my head off because I ignored her when we bumped into each other… well, here. Apparently I was distracted by some yoga beauty. ”

“Sounds like you,” Jasper laughs.

“No mate, it must’ve been something else. Because trust me, that arse on her? You wouldn’t miss it.”

The barista places my coffee down with just a bit too much force. A splash over the rim before she can get the lid on. She mumbles an apology and grabs a cloth.

“I tell you, it’s an arse I can’t stop thinking about.”

“Uh oh. Hands off the PA, remember.” One of Jasper’s first warnings when he helped me grow my company: do not dip your dick in the company ink. I’ve never broken that rule.

“I know.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “That’s why I’m not sure this is such a good idea. The fact that she seems to think I’m an arsehole just makes me want her more.”

“Your coffee,” the barista barks, sliding the cleaned-up cup — now with a lid — across the counter. I give her a smile. She doesn’t return it.

Jasper smirks into his drink. “You do have a way with the locals.”

I shrug and take my cup.

I need to stop talking, stop thinking, and most of all, stop fantasising about Stella.

Jasper’s right.

No touching the PA.