ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance (31 page)

Tallah walked casually through her home, her heels clacking against her hardwood floors with each step. It was a satisfying sound and filled her with confidence. She had plenty of time before her first shift started as the new executive assistance to one of the richest billionaires in the city. There was no need to rush through her morning.

She stood straight and proud in her kitchen as she watched her coffee brew. The black dress she had on accented against her deep mocha skin perfectly. Golden accents around the wrists and gold hoop earrings tied the outfit together perfectly. It wasn’t too much for an office, but let people know she was there to get shit done.

This was a major career move for her, and as cool and collected as she looked on the outside, inside she was burning with excitement. Just a year under his employ would open a hundred new doors for her. For the first time in her life, she was going to get out from under the thumb of doing barely enough to survive, and would actually reach the heights of living. It’s like that quote, “Money can’t buy happiness, but it can make you awfully comfortable while you’re being miserable.” She was finally going to get comfortable in her life.

Once the coffee was ready, Tallah took her time sipping its warmth and absorbing the calm moment. She’d need it to get her through the day. It was these little episodes of time frozen in her mind that got her through. When she was younger she had to deal with some heavy anxiety, but these calming exercises proved to be lifesavers.

When she finished, she hopped into her car and drove to her new job. Even with all of the leisure and taking her time doing things, she still arrived twenty minutes early. A woman from HR was there to meet her and let her into the building. A quick trip to the HR office got her a temporary badge and keys to Mr. Gilmore’s office as normally she’ll be arriving before him and will need access. Her official badge with her picture on it would arrive in the mail in a few days.

In the elevator on the ride up to his office, and where she’d be working, Tallah felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster in her chest. As they rose through the levels, her excitement rose with it. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. In her mind, she relived the experience with her coffee, sipping slowly, enjoying the warmth and the calmness of her kitchen. In a few moments she was calm again, and when the elevator dinged that it had reached her floor, she opened her long eyelashes and looked out at the office.

The reception area was impressive, like the lounge in one of those old style gentlemen clubs where old-timers sat around drinking brandy, smoking cigars, and talking about long dead philosophers. Leather couches and lounge chairs sat in strategically positioned placements throughout so that groups of visitors could sit near one another and talk. Tallah had never seen anything like it in her life. Would people coming to see Mr. Gilmore want to speak with one another?

The HR woman led her through the reception area and pointed out Tallah’s desk. “This is where you’ll be working most of the time. There is an intercom and integrated phone system. You’ll be taking Mr. Gilmore’s calls and transferring them where needed. The intercom system is tied directly from this phone to the phone in his office. It’s a private line and not connected to the rest of the phone system. Mr. Gilmore values discretion in all of his business dealings.”

“I understand,” Tallah said, though she didn’t understand at all. How was an intercom system going to help that?

Before she could think to ask, she was guided through to Mr. Gilmore’s actual office. The space was huge, and the vastness of it took her breath away. The ceiling must’ve been at least two extra stories tall. Floor to ceiling windows replaced all walls, the early morning sun steaming in from the east.

There, with his back to the door, stood Justin Gilmore looking out the window at the city below. Just looking at him made Tallah feel richer. Without even looking in their direction, Tallah could feel the confidence in him, the power. This was a self-made man, and it was impossible to not be impressed by that.

“Mr. Gilmore, your new assistant has arrived.”

He turned around and she saw him for the first time. Tallah’s heart stopped for just a blink, and she forgot to breathe. Sure she’d seen his pictures in the tabloids, the young hot rich man in the city, but to see his features in the flesh was something else altogether. A pronounced jaw was covered in a stylish layer of stubble. More than a 5 o’clock shadow but not quite a beard. Normally Tallah hated that look, but on him it was surprisingly power. Piercing blue eyes looked out from a deep, thoughtful brow. The gentle tan of his skin offset against his dirty blond hair well. His grey suit was clearly tailored just for him and fit as though he’d been born in it.

In those beautiful blue eyes he wore a look of mild surprise. Had he really not noticed them enter? Then again, in a place as big as this, she couldn’t really be so surprised. Mr. Gilmore checked his watch.

“So soon?” he asked. “Are you always so punctual?”

“Yes sir,” Tallah said and stepped forward with her hand outstretched.

Mr. Gilmore looked at her hand, cleared his throat, then looked back up to her. “Well, you’ve set the bar. Now let’s see if you can match it reliably.”

Tallah curled her fingers nearly into a fist and pulled her hand back. All of the pleasantness of the meeting had churned into a horrible awkward pit in her stomach. “Yes, well, I think you’ll be pleased with my performance. I set the bar high for myself and I always—“

“That’s wonderful. For now, let’s focus on the following.” With a pointed look to the HR woman he said, “I’m not to be disturbed before 8:30. For any reason.”

She tried to make some excuse, but when he looked away from her and back to Tallah, the HR woman silenced herself.

“My coffee,” he continued, now speaking directly to Talla, “is delivered to your desk at 8:55 every day. Your job is to be at your desk to receive it at that time. I do not care what else is going on in your day. You are at your desk to receive my coffee and bring it to me, here, on my desk. Immediately. Everything else can wait. Am I understood?”

Tallah opened her mouth and made a sound that was mean to be “Yes” but was drowned out when he spoke over her.

“My 9 o’clock is your next priority. I need all of my paperwork in preparation so that I can go over it. That you will email to me no later than 8:30. Paperwork for my 9 o’clock. Coffee. Should you have to choose between the two…”

“Choose the coffee.”

“Correct,” he said with a slight narrowing of the eyes. “Remember that and you’ll survive the day. The rest we’ll figure out as we go.”

“I have a question, sir. You say to email you your paperwork no later than 8:30, but you had just finished saying not to disturb you until after 8:30.”

“I didn’t hear a question in any of that.”

Tallah took a breath through her nose in an attempt to squash her frustration. In all her life she’d never tolerated being spoken to in such a way, and she was having a real hard time dealing with it now.

“Let me answer your lack of a question with a question,” he said during her period of self-calming. “How much noise does your email make?”

The condescending tone was nearly enough to make her quit there on the spot. “Understood,” she managed in a strained tone.

Checking his watch, he said, “It’s now 8:35. A poor start. Let’s see how your career looks by 9 o’clock.”

The HR woman turned and walked from the room without a word.

“I look forward to working together,” Tallah said with completely false professionalism.

“I’m sure,” he said.

As she turned and walked through the large, brightly lit office, she became filled with a deep sense of dread at her future here. She suddenly doubted she could make it a full year working under him.

Justin sat at his desk after they’d left and released a long, slow breath. He placed his hands on his desk and watch them as they shook. His hands were actually shaking. The palms were sweaty even after he rubbed them on the front of his pant legs.

Who was this woman? In all his life, he’d never been more aware of anyone. She woke something inside of him. It was a sensation he felt instantly, and had no idea how to translate it. Was this what it meant to be truly attracted to someone? With everything occupying his day to day, he let his HR departments handle all of the hiring. If a particular department needed input, that specific manager could do a follow-up. All Justin needed was an assistant. How hard of a position could that possibly be to fill? Paperwork, phone calls, coffee. He’d every intention of making it easy on whoever they did decide to hire.

When he turned around and saw the most perfect representation of beauty and grace standing right in front of him, his options were to melt into a finely dressed puddle, or, well, respond aggressively. What other choice did he have? He couldn’t have flirted with her, certainly not in front of HR. Justin slapped himself across the face and laid his hands flat on the desk.

Flirt? What was wrong with him? Even if HR isn’t there, he can’t flirt. He’s engaged, for God’s sakes! If he wasn’t careful and she realized how he felt, it could ruin his entire life. This was his assistant, and now that she was already hired, he couldn’t fire her unless she did something wrong.

The only choice left to him was to continue to play the rude overbearing boss. Best case scenario, she quits and he never has to see her again. Which, admittedly, would be incredibly depressing, but out of sight out of mind. If she was gone, at least he’d be able to move on with his life. Worst case scenario, she stays, and hates him. A woman that stole his breath away would hate him. He’d never wanted anyone more in his life. The thought of her looking at him with disdain depressed him more than the thought of her walking out of his life forever. These were terrible thoughts. Justin squeezed his eyes closed and lowered his head. Seconds meeting this woman, and already he was running the emotional gamut. Not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

Suddenly his entire relationship with his fiancé was called into question in his mind. After years with this woman, was it all so easily washed away just because a pretty woman had walked into his office? No. No, of course not. He’d had pretty women come into his office before. Officials, delivery people, other people’s assistants. He’d been around plenty of beautiful women in his day. What was this? What was he going on about? He was acting like he was back in college. Justin straightened himself up from his chair and smoothed the wrinkles out of the front.

This was ridiculous. He needed to pull himself together. His office door opened, and she walked in again holding his coffee. Damn that coffee. He made a point of facing his computer while watching her walk out of the corner of his eye. The sway of her hips, the expert placement of one foot in front of the other. This woman was grace.

Heat rose up from his neck, burning his cheeks as he became acutely aware of how much closer she drew with every step. As she moved to put the coffee down, he shouted wordlessly at her. She jolted and stood up straight.

“This desk,” he said sharply, all of his arousal and heat redirected as useless anger, “is worth more than what I would be paying you in a year, if you last that long. You don’t just put down a coffee so hot it could warp the wood. It goes here.”

He pointed to a round wooden coaster cut from a limb of the same tree the desk itself was made from. It was a stupid style thing, but it made him smile. Tallah bowed her head slightly as she set the coffee down on the coaster. Coasters. He used coasters now, apparently. “Yes?” he asked and looked up at her. The smooth lines of her face, the sharp corners of her eyes. She was simply breathtaking. The sort of beauty gods grew jealous over. “Did you need something else?” he added sharply.

“If that will be all, Mr. Gilmore,” she said and walked from his desk before he could answer.

He picked up his coffee and took a sip as he watched her walk away. She was even more exquisite from behind. Justin breathed deeply of the scent of his coffee and wondered how long he would be able to keep this up. It didn’t matter, really. He didn’t have a choice. He got a good look at her legs as she positioned herself to open the office door.

The moment it clicked shut, he sighed. “It’s going to be a long day.”

Weeks passed. Every day was worse than the last. Either that, or it just grated on her patience and made it seem that way. He was unbelievably rude. She understood that this was his company, he owned the building, and essentially the people that worked for him, but for her that didn’t give him the right to treat people any way he wanted. If this had been any other job, any other boss, she would’ve told him off to his face and walked out. Unfortunately that wasn’t an option. She had bills that demanded she stay right where she was. Just like staying here for a year would open all new doors for her, quitting inside of a year — or, hell, a month — would slam those doors shut forever. What kind of an employee would she be if she did such a thing?

There were people that would kill to be where she was, fetching this ass of a man his coffee and answering his calls. It was such a simple job, really, but he made it nearly impossible. Every time they spoke, he treated her as some kind of second-class citizen, but then he would demand her time far more than was needed. If she didn’t know any better, it was as though he was calling her into his office just so he could yell at her to her face. Most of the things he found “wrong” weren’t wrong at all, or sometimes he would call her in to yell at her about something she’d had nothing to do with.

Did he want it fixed? Nope! He just wanted to rant and rave, and then he would sit there, silent, staring fixedly on her eyes until she said something.

The man needed a woman or something. She’d never seen anyone so wound up.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, one morning she woke up with a sore throat, stuffed nose, dripping eyes, and feeling like she’d been hit by a damn truck. The joyous risks of working in an office around a thousand coughing, disgusting people. They offered great benefits, including a grip of sick time right off the bat, but she just didn’t feel like she could get away with calling in sick. Not this early. If he yelled at her this much for stuff that wasn’t even her fault, how much more would he rant and rail against her for a legitimate excuse?