7. Ray

The brute was going to drive me insane.

Two weeks of chaos. Two weeks of him sitting behind the glass, watching me, knowing something might be going on behind it. I'd pulled the blinds down more times than I could count.

I was getting the hang of managing such an enormous and hectic schedule. I wasn't used to handling the personalaspects of someone's life other than Mom's, and the sheer amount of women who called the office hoping to schedule a "meeting" with Wade was overwhelming. If their name was on the bunny list, they got a meeting. Wade could either confirm it or deny it, but so far, I hadn't seen one that he'd canceled. How he had the time and the stamina was beyond me. I could see every activity he had planned in a day and it was mind boggling.

They were incessant. Call after call that I thought would be professional ended in a woman whining over the phone because she swore she'd been on the list. Or worse, they would show up unannounced, begging to be let into his office so they could enjoy themselves. Clearly, Wade did not give two shits about having security on the door.

Nope. That was my job, apparently.

While I was plugging in names and booking out room numbers for Chloe's wedding, a woman waltzed directly into my office as if she belonged there. Blonde hair curled and makeup applied as if she was walking the red carpet, a strappy little dress despite the negative temperatures outside, and a look of total determination on her face. I'd nearly screamed.

I could see Wade at the end of the hallway, where it curved toward the breakroom, and our eyes met. He stared at me as he shook his head and mouthed the word "no." A silent command to get her out.

I still hadn't gotten used to it all.

"Has anyone called in about this evening?" Wade asked in passing, his fingers curled around the doorframe of my office.

"Professional or personal?" I asked. I already knew damn well what he meant, though.

"Personal."

"No," I answered, double checking the calendar I knew was empty. "Would you like me to go bunny-hunting?"

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, hiding his little chuckle. "No thanks. Don't think I'd like your choices for my personal time."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Considering the only people you actually get along with around here are my sister and Holly."

I narrowed my gaze at him and exited his calendar. "Well, excuse me for wanting to keep my head down and actually get my job done."

"You can get your job done and still enjoy yourself, you know."

"I'd prefer to just get on with things," I sighed. "I don't need distractions. I don't have time for them. I have enough going on to begin with."

His little grin turned devilish, smirking up at the edges. "Aw, don't tell me you've got plans for the evening. I was so looking forward to filling my schedule."

Jesus. Is this why the last assistant left? "I think that counts as workplace harassment, Wade." I made a fake gagging motion with my fingers. His grin only widened in response.

"So uptight," he replied. The muscles in his hand flexed as he tightened his grip on the doorframe, his nails biting into the wood. "Don't you ever want to let loose a little?"

"Not with you."

————

The bite in the air halfway up the mountains was enough to make my bones feel it. Wade had promised we would only be there a couple of hours despite my insistence that it was completely fine. It was an hour"s drive back to Boulder and if anything happened to Mom in the meantime, she had her caregiver. But Wade wanted a reason to take pity on me, I guess.

We walked through the doors of the resort together, the heat blasting me and turning what was originally just a red nose into a red face. I pulled my scarf higher to cover it, but if Wade took two seconds to just look down at me, it would appear I was blushing. Which I absolutely wasn't and did not want him to think that.

I didn't know the exact details of what the meeting was about, I wasn't the one who scheduled it. But Wade had said it was to discuss potential plans to clear out portions of the land adjacent to the resort. That was something I'd heard Wade speak about often over the phone or overheard in the breakroom. I didn't like that he wasn't keeping me in the loop.

I don't know what I was expecting upon entering the meeting room but it absolutely was not the image that stood before me. Vaulted glass ceilings let in the afternoon light, brightening the fartoo-large space. In the center sat one long table, rustic and carved from what I could only assume was a redwood considering its width. Did he have that shipped from the Pacific Northwest? Wingback, leather office chairs dotted the sides and the two heads of the table. On one side of the room, a large empty wall served as what I could only guess was for projecting whatever presentations Wade wanted to share. The other side had a rolling whiteboard, easy to remove or replace depending on what the room called for. I wondered briefly if Chloe had considered holding the reception in here before Wade ushered me to my seat beside him.

The meeting finally got under way. I was to take notes. Boring and annoying, but necessary.

Half an hour passed, and then another. I was losing focus, my mind drifting, my body uncomfortable from the position I was sitting in. The leather wingback chairs were nice, but not very ergonomically crafted. As the conversation dwindled between Wade and the contractors, I found myself sneaking sideways glances at him. I couldn't deny that he was nice to look at, there was a reasonwhy women threw themselves at his feet and begged to sleep with him. I didn't fully understand that reason, however. He was a dickhead. He was brash and a brute and all the things that got on my nerves. Was it really just because he was handsome and good in bed? How good could someone be that women were desperate to spend one more night with them?

My thoughts spiraled further, with less curiosity and more intrusive thinking.

What would he do to me in such a situation? Would he follow through with what he'd whispered in my ear, ensuring I had a good time well before he even thought about himself? I don't think I'd ever slept with someone who had held true to that promise. My orgasm, if it even came at all, was always an afterthought, something I was left to do by myself. It had been so long, too long, since I'd been with someone. My mouth watered at just the idea.

Would he fuck me in the office? Long after everyone had gone home, would he look at me through the glass and decide he wanted me? Would he call me into his office, order me to my knees, tempt me to give in to what lurked beneath the surface?

No. Because nothing lurked beneath the surface. I was attracted to him, sure, but that meant nothing. Nearly every girl in existence would be.

I thought about the girls who had become obsessive. The ones who had been axed from the list, I'd learned. They couldn't take nofor an answer, didn't understand that he didn't want something serious or long-term. Holly had said the one that had turned up last week was exceptionally worse than the others, going so far that Wade had considered a restraining order.

Wade glanced at me, catching my gaze on him, and I prayed that the blush from earlier hadn't faded so he couldn't tell when it bloomed again. "Did you write that down, Blunder Bunny? Or too busy staring at me again?"

I blinked. Shit. I hadn't been paying attention. "Sorry, what was it?"

He chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'm recording it all anyway."

Then why am I here?

I sighed and closed my notebook, knowing damn well that this was all pointless. I didn't understand his insistence on messing with me, on getting under my skin and poking until I bled with irritation. It was like he was some kid on a playground picking on the weird girl, the quiet girl, the nerdy girl. Why on earth would any woman want to be with someone like himlong-term?

And why didn't he let them?

Something in my gut told me he'd been damaged before. I've discovered that's usually the case with men like Wade. Unless he was just born a dickhead, which wasn't a bad theory either. He'd probably opened himself up to someone, trusted them, and they'd done something to tear him to pieces. Leaving him to fill his calendar with ski bunnies that wanted more than he would give, always sought after, always doing the hurting instead of getting hurt.

That had to be it.

I wanted to know what happened. I wanted to unravel the puzzle pieces, figure him out, stick it to him where it hurt to show him that I had teeth and nails too. But I didn't have the time or the energy. Didn't care enough to make it happen. I wouldn't let myself, anyway.

I had Mom to take care of, and that was my life. Maybe sticking it to Wade would show up in another one.