Page 9

WINTER

I have worked for Bracken Holdings for five years, and in all those years, I have never dreaded coming to work more than I do today.

Yesterday’s stunt with Ashley raised a lot of rumors. I let some of the rumors roll off my back. People talk when they’ve got nothing to do, and when you give them time, they forget about you. At least, that’s what I tell myself when I walk to the office.

However, that “people talk and they’ll stop when they get tired” mantra I’ve been chanting in my car on my way here flies out the window the minute someone whispers,” The new boss demanded that Winter be his new assistant. Guess we all know why she went to see him yesterday.”

It doesn’t fly past me at what they are hinting at. To the naked eye, the new boss wanting me as his assistant right after I paid him a visit only spells one thing: I slept with the boss. And how wrong they are if they think I’d stoop so low for a man like Deacon.

“How are you feeling today?” Julie hands me a cup of coffee as soon as I get to my desk, and I almost want to hug her for the sentiment.

“You mean, how am I feeling when hideous rumors about me are flying around faster than I can stop them?” I quip dryly, sipping the goodness from inside the paper cup.

On a day like this, I’ll need stronger coffee. Maybe two more cups of coffee to make me numb to this nightmare of a day.

“Everyone is in a tizzy, like I said. If you give—”

Julie’s words are cut off by Luka, who appears in a grey tailored suit with the same gelled-back hairstyle he never seems to give up.

“Everyone is in more than a tizzy, Julie. Let’s be honest: our friend here has a lot of explaining to do, starting with how she keeps attracting Alphas like bees to honey. She’s caught the attention of two Alphas so far, and everyone in here might pretend like that’s normal, but we both know it isn’t.”

Luka Graves has always been straightforward and blunt. Those two qualities are some of the best things I admire about him, yet I despise those qualities right now because I know he won’t let this go without getting answers.

Plus, I know among the two Alphas he’s speaking about. One of them is Deacon. The other is Alpha Kieran Vega, and I would argue that I didn’t necessarily attract Alpha Kieran Vega’s attention on purpose.

Alpha Kieran, who was and still is the CEO of Vega Industries, bumped into me just outside the elevator and made me spill coffee all over my most expensive blouse. With an easy and genuine smile, Alpha Kieran offered to buy me a new shirt, but I had declined his offer and said I was fine. He’d asked me out to lunch on the same day, and I said, “No.” Over the next two years, every time he showed up here, he would call me “sweetheart” and ask me out. I would give him the same answer every time. I’m not interested. It was a running joke between us and nothing more.

To Luka’s insinuation, I decide to play dumb.

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Winter. First, that brooding Alpha from Vega Industries who only comes here to see you, and now, the new boss? I need you to spill the truth to us, girl. Why does the boss want you as his assistant?”

The words that come out from my lips sound like lies even to my own ears, “I work harder than anyone in this office. The manager of the finance department didn’t see my potential, but the boss went through my resume and decided to give me the promotion I deserve, so, no, Luka, the boss isn’t attracted to me.”

Silence cuts between us, with me waiting for Luka to buy my lie and Luka gazing at me like he doesn’t believe my bluff.

The whole awkwardness is split into two when the telephone on my desk rings.

I pick up the phone, holding it against my ear.

“Bracken Holdings. How might I be of service—”

“Ms. Cavanaugh,” deep and husky, Deacon’s voice makes every nerve inside me char like burned wood.

We might not be face to face, but Goddess, I can feel his voice wash over me and seep inside my body like hot lava. I can also feel the excitement buzzing from my wolf just from the sound of his voice alone, and I refuse to share the same feeling.

“How can I help you, Sir?”

I keep the vitriol in my voice to a minimum, even though I very much want to cuss at him for the odd change of things.

Never in my life did I think I’d be in such a situation. Yet, here we are. I am at his beck and call, and he is the boss of the very company I've put my blood and sweat into.

“Come to my office, Winter.”

My heart pulses in my throat at the way he samples my name in his mouth. Like it is something he’s been dying to say.

“And if I don’t want to, Sir?”

Defiance licks my voice. I want the money. I’m taking his offer, but I’m not going to be obeying him the way he expects me to.

Luka and Julie have somehow started engaging in their own conversation, too caught up in themselves to listen in on my phone call.

“I didn’t phrase it as a question, Ms. Cavanaugh. Come to my office, or I will come get you myself.”

Fuck his tone. But I can’t necessarily tell him that if I’m going to accept his offer. The threat in his voice is clear, too. I go up to his office, or he comes down to get me. With the rumors still going around, the last thing I need is to add more fire to them.

Swallowing my pride and digging a hole in my heart to bury the rage coursing through my veins, I excuse myself from my friends, with Luka telling me our conversation isn’t done.

As much as I wanted to avoid Luka’s conversation, I would pick it any day rather than this.

The elevator up to Deacon’s office has hives breaking out on my skin, and my palms are getting sweatier than usual. I watch the numbers on the elevator ascend, and as those numbers near his top floor, my frantic heartbeat skyrockets.

The perks of being a boss are, unlike us employees, the boss gets a whole floor to himself that consists of his office, his secretary’s workstation, and a boardroom for meetings and presentations. While some of us suffocate in the stifling air we share with our co-workers, men like Deacon Cross get the luxury of fresh air and the best view money can offer.

When Mr. Wilfred owned this floor, I didn’t even care that he existed, but knowing Deacon Cross owns all of this makes me mad and more jealous than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

Why does he get the soft life? Why does he get to live like a rich bachelor while I’ve struggled for seven years of my life to make ends meet?

My thoughts are severed when the ding of the elevator announces I’ve reached the top floor.

It takes about fourteen steps to get to his office and another dose of courage to knock on the door.

“Come in,” Deacon’s voice vibrates from the other side of the door, and I obey his command.

The boss stands by the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, the city sprawling beneath him like a concrete and glass tapestry, and as beautiful as the city looks from up here, my eyes flick to the muscles that threaten to rip his well-tailored suit all the way to the back of his head, where his neatly cut dark hair lies.

He’s always been a handsome son of a gun, and the years we’ve been apart only prove that assertion.

“I’m assuming you showing up to the office today means you’ve taken my offer?”

I’m about to answer him, but Deacon turns around, his eyes chasing mine in a way that should be deemed criminal.

“Last I checked, you gave me forty-eight hours to make my decision, so I still have time to think about your offer, Mr. Cross.”

My words seem to have no effect on him because he moves around his desk, walking toward me, and with every step, I can feel my wolf begging me to at least ask him questions, to at least hear him out and let him in. I don’t listen to her as I take one step back.

“Delaying the inevitable doesn’t change the fact that my offer is the best one you’ve got.”

“Yeah? Then, why does it seem like you are the one who’s desperate to get me as your assistant instead of the other way around, Sir?” I ask.

He doesn’t have to move for me to smell his musky cologne in the air.

It’s everywhere. It’s on my clothes. It’s in my nostrils. It’s the only other thing that makes my body heat apart from his lingering eyes.

“I never sugarcoated anything, baby. I’m here to win you back, and if this is what I have to stoop to so that I can get you back, so be it.”

My knees nearly go weak when he calls me baby, but the incredulous laugh that bubbles from inside me comes from a place of pain. ” We were done the day you rejected me, Mr. Cross, and I’m afraid your money won’t be able to fix that.”

Something akin to pain flashes in his eyes, but he masks it within seconds.

“Yes or no, Winter?”

He knows my answer, but he wants me to say it, and I do it because I refuse to back down when this is my city, my job, and my new life.

“Yes. I accept your offer, Mr. Cross.”

***

My first official hours as Deacon’s personal assistant have me seated next to him as the CFO and the board members drone on about quarterly projections and profit margins. The boardroom air is thick with the sterile scent of polished wood and stale coffee while the hum of the city down below coalesces with the voices inside.

My job is to write down the notes and minutes while listening to what the CFO is talking about. It’s a job I would normally do in my sleep, but it has proven difficult since I sat next to Deacon.

I have felt the weight of his eyes on me the entire time the meeting has been going on. He starts on my face, lingering on my lips before he traces the pulse hammering against my throat, and in the madness of it all, I can almost feel his physical touch on my skin: rough, greedy, and possessive.

The bastard doesn’t even try to hide it as his eyes graze the cleavage peeking from my dress. The action itself feels like he’s stripping me of my clothes one by one, and I can’t do anything about it other than try to close my thighs and pray to the Goddess that the meeting ends so I can run to the nearest washroom and catch a breath and possibly even try to soothe the throbbing ache between my legs.

“What do you think, boss?” One of the board members asks, I think it’s the CFO’s voice, but I can’t even tell anymore.

I don’t look at Deacon as he opens his mouth to speak. ” The contingency we’ll use to make sure we don’t face the same risks Wilfred put the company through is not entirely clear. Elaborate more on that.”

Deacon’s request sets the meeting running for another hour, and this time, he not only stares at me, but his leg brushes mine on purpose, no matter how much I try to avoid him under the table.

Almost three hours later, I watch as everyone trickles out of the boardroom, and I stand up, ready to leave this room, this building, and reach the confines of my home within thirty minutes. But that turns out to be wishful thinking.

“Where do you think you are going, Ms. Cavanaugh?” Deacon’s question has me confused.

It’s almost six in the evening, and everyone has left. Correction: every employee leaves the office at six, and seven at the latest.

“I thought we were done here, Sir.”

I ask the question while facing him, and I don’t miss the mischief written in his dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

“There’s more work to be done other than jotting down minutes for one measly board meeting, Ms. Cavanaugh. Unless you have a date waiting for you somewhere?”

He’s going to keep me here till midnight. I know it.

I also read the insinuation in his words. How easy would it be to tell him I want to rush home to see my babies because they are waiting for me and not because I have a date?

“I don’t think my personal life is any of your business, Mr. Cross. What else do you need me to do before I leave?”