Page 443 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Edward

"Firstly, any time spent baby-sitting is not a waste. Babies are our future and take priority over anything else." She plants her hands on her hips. "Secondly, you haven’t yet paid me, and thirdly—"

The baby’s wails rise to a crescendo.

"—you’re scaring the little mite."

With that, she flounces toward my HR manager and holds out her arms. The other woman hesitates; the baby screams louder.

Someone pops his head out of his room, while another woman looks over her cubicle.

Both notice me and retreat without a peep.

In the week since I’ve taken over as CEO of the company, my reputation has been cemented as someone not to be messed with.

Except for this sprite of a woman who turns her back on me.

My HR manager hands over the baby to my new assistant. She rocks the kid, soothes it, but the child only cries louder. She pats the little one’s back but the infant screams.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I stalk over to her and hold out my arms. “Hand over the kid.”

She gapes at me. “You?”

My HR manager looks at me with an expression of shock.

“I was a priest. I know how to calm a child,” I say through gritted teeth.

The infant solves the problem by jumping into my chest. I hold the kid close, then rub ever widening circles over her back.

Her crying slows down, turns into hiccups, then stops.

The baby draws in a deep breath, and her eyelids flicker down.

I smooth down the wisps of soft curls on her head, then rock her for a few more seconds, before I hand her over to my HR manager.

"Thank you," she whispers.

I nod, then turn to my assistant, in time to catch the dreamy expression on her face. Hold a child in your arms, and every woman in the vicinity takes it as a sign you’re ready to procreate. Something I’ve sworn off. "Ms. Young, don’t keep me waiting again,” I snap.

She blinks then straightens her spine, “I’m the one who’s been waiting.

I came in at eight a.m., as instructed, but you weren’t here.

” She smooths her hand down the skirt she’s wearing.

One which clings to her curves and outlines her full figure.

Her hips are the most enticing I have ever seen.

As for her thick thighs which stretch the fabric of her skirt?

I’d do anything to squeeze them apart and—I stiffen, then curl my fingers into fists at my sides.

She wore that skirt on purpose, knowing how tempting she’d come across in it.

She squeezed into it, knowing exactly the effect it’d have on me.

But I’m not going to give into my base instincts.

I will not be distracted from my goal of becoming the CEO of this company.

I resisted my impulses when I was a priest. Surely, I can do the same now?

“I’ve done what I could with your email inbox, but I need some direction.” She sets her jaw. “And I couldn’t stand by while the baby cried. Also, I had my phone with me so you could have contacted me anytime." She pulls out the device and waves it around.

I arch an eyebrow at her, and she blinks rapidly. "Surely, you didn’t expect me to stand by while Adela needed help with her child."

"Speaking of"—I turn to my HR manager—"you’re aware children aren’t allowed in the building?"

"What?" my assistant screeches in horror. "No children in the building?"

I glare at her. "Look around you, Ms. Young. This is a workplace."

"So? People have families. And working women like Adela need babysitting facilities so they're assured their children are taken care of while they're at work."

"Does it look like I’m running a charity, Ms. Young?"

She juts out her lower lip, and my dick twitches.

A zing of lust sizzles up my spine. I stiffen.

There is no room for a woman in my life—not since the one I wanted decided I was not for her.

I made a vow, then, never to be emotionally involved again.

It’s one I don’t intend to break. Definitely not for a curvy woman who streaks her hair purple and with a figure like she’s channeling Marilyn Monroe.

"Companies which provide childcare have seen productivity soar by fifteen percent," she announces.

"Is that right?" I drawl.

She raises a shoulder, then sighs. "I don’t know if it’s a fact, but I do know women need all the help they can get. And by going that extra mile for your employees, you’ll ensure they stay loyal to you."

"I pay them. That’s more than enough. If they don’t like it, they can leave, as can you—" I stab my finger over my shoulder.

My assistant stiffens, “If I hadn’t seen you with the baby, I’d believe you were an insensitive ass, but now—”

“Now?” I incline my head.

“Now, I know you are one, you—"

"I’m so sorry, this is all my fault,” my HR manager cuts in, “my babysitter cancelled today, and I knew I had to get into work to complete the staff-training. I thought I’d get through things while she was asleep, but then she woke up.

Then, I had to change her. And then, she started crying.

" She swallows. "I’m sorry, Mr. Chase, I know it’s against the rules. It won’t happen again."

I nod, “Emergencies happen, and we can’t always predict circumstances when it comes to children, so I’m willing to overlook the incident. This time.”

“Of course,” Adela says stiffly.

“It’s not what I want to do, but I have to set an example, you understand? If it happens again, I’ll have to compensate for the drop in productivity by taking it from your salary."

My assistant gasps. "And will you pay her extra if productivity goes up?"

I shoot her a look. She scowls back, but thankfully, stops speaking.

"It won’t happen again.” Adela pats the now sleeping baby on her back, then turns to my assistant. "Thank you, Mira, you're a lifesaver."

My assistant smiles. "Anytime."

I make a warning noise at the back of my throat.

Of course, she ignores it. "What’s your daughter's name?" she asks.

"It’s Andrea," the other woman replies softly.

"I predict Andrea’s going to sleep for at least another hour, enough time for you to get through whatever's urgent."

The HR manager shoots her a grateful look, then walks back toward the makeshift bed she has for the baby.

Silence descends. Mira stiffens then slowly turns to me. "I guess I can’t delay any longer?"

I tilt my head.

She heaves another sigh, then lowers her chin to her chest. "Fine, whatever. I know you’re pissed off. But I’m not going to say sorry."

"Good."

She jerks her gaze back to my face. "Did you say, good?"

"You passed your first test."

Her jaw drops. "Did you say, test?"

I raise a shoulder. "If you want to work as my assistant, you need to stand up to me."

She blinks slowly. "I thought you wanted someone who follows orders?"

I tap my fingers against my chest. "You arrived at eight a.m. today, didn’t you?"

"Another test?"

I fake a yawn. "Enough of this prattle." I turn, walk a few steps forward, then turn back and scowl. "Are you waiting for a special invitation, Ms. Young?"

Her mouth firms, but she follows me down the corridor and into my office.

I walk over to the floor to ceiling window that looks out over the River Thames.

In the distance, the circle of the London Eye cuts a swathe through the rain.

The dome of St. Paul’s Church is almost hidden by the low hanging clouds, except for a curve at the top bared like the shoulder of a shy bride.

"You love this city, don't you?" she asks from behind me.

I nod before I can stop myself. The hell?

I never talk about my likes or dislikes with my friends.

Definitely not, with my employees. During the time I was General Manager of the London Ice Kings, I kept a strict demarcation between my personal life and my professional one.

I prefer to keep my preferences and my secrets to myself.

A hangover from the days I was a man of the cloth, maybe, but it’s served me well.

This way, I can keep my life straightforward.

No emotions, no connections, nothing that could result in getting hurt.

The incident when I was a boy changed me forever. Then there's the broken heart, which I'm still not over. Which is why I’ve done away with messy sentiments. No more allowing myself to feel a connection with others. I did that when I was a priest.

I opened my heart to her, and she chose someone else.

I don’t hold it against her. How can I? I left her, with no explanation.

She was right in choosing my best friend over me.

He can give her everything I can’t—emotional security, a grounding influence, the stability to put down roots and start a family. I curl my fingers into fists.

Last I saw Ava was at a gathering with Baron. She was glowing, and he had his arm around her. They looked at each other with adoration. And their love created a cocoon which enclosed them in their happy space. Surrounded by people, they remained separate, a unit tuned into each other’s presence.

Then I knew, I'd done the right thing by walking away. I stepped aside so the two of them could be happy. And something inside me grew peaceful, knowing they were. I made the correct choice…for them. So what, if I'm to spend the rest of my life alone?

"Edward?"

I blink, then pivot to face her. "Whether I love this city or not is not your concern. You’re here to do a job. You’d best focus on that, so you don’t lose it."

Her mouth firms. "I haven’t said I’d accept the role."