10. Lorelei

10

LORELEI

O h, fuck no.

He has got to me fucking with me.

I suck in a deep, steeling breath, hoping it gives me enough strength to deal with this delusional asshole.

I had no issue being Martin's assistant. It's a job I'd do willingly and happily.

Is it my dream job?

No.

If I'm being honest with myself, I want to be the manager. I want to be the one with the role that requires an assistant.

But being in this building, learning how things work, is a huge step in the right direction. It brings me within touching distance of my dream job.

Just being here…it means everything.

That over-excited fourteen-year-old girl who lives inside me is doing endless cartwheels and screaming at the top of her lungs right now.

"You made it. You did it," she cries proudly.

But no matter how loud she is, Kian's words still hang ominously in the air between us.

They're almost as oppressive as his immovable form behind me.

The heat of his body sears through my clothes, making my skin prickle with awareness.

I take another breath before I hold my head high and turn around, facing him head-on.

I smile sweetly before saying, "I'm sorry, I think I just misheard you, Mr. Callahan."

His lips twitch before pulling into what has to be the best panty-melting grin that has ever existed.

"Okay," he says, mirth dancing in his dark green eyes. "Let me say it again. You're not Martin's assistant. You're mine."

Mine.

That word hits me like a baseball bat.

"I am not, nor will I ever be yours, Mr. Callahan."

The green staring back at me darkens even further before his eyes narrow slightly.

"That's a real shame, Miss Tempest, because from what I hear, you don't have any other choice."

His grin is wicked, and hell if it doesn't do things it shouldn't between my thighs.

I've heard plenty of stories about this man's antics—many of which have come directly from his annoyingly full lips.

He knows his power over women, and he uses it to his advantage.

Well, Mr. Callahan, you've met your match here because there is no way I'm falling for any of that.

A pretty face and a hot body will only get you so far with me. Both of those assets are easily forgotten when the personality lingering behind them is as arrogant and pig-headed as Kian's seems to be.

There was a fleeting fear that maybe I'd got him all wrong. That the man I met before was an act. But standing here now, staring him dead in the eyes, I know that's not true.

This man is every inch of the person I first believed him to be.

But, unfortunately, as much as I might see him for who is he, he can also see me. And he's got me.

I can't walk out of this building unemployed. Neither my bank account nor my pride will allow it.

Is agreeing to this farce the stupidest thing I've ever done?

Quite possibly.

Am I going to turn it down?

Fuck no.

"Mr. Callahan, with all due respect, I think assisting you will require an increase in the benefits I've been promised for this role."

Something akin to pride flashes in his dark eyes before he finally takes a step back, leaving me with enough space to draw in a breath that isn't laced with his scent.

"One thing you need to learn about me, Miss Tempest, is that I'm always one step ahead," he says, his tone oozing arrogance.

He stalks around his desk before pulling out a black folder with "Callahan Enterprises" in raised gold foil shining in the corner and sliding it toward me.

"I suspect you'll be more than happy with the benefit that comes with working closely with me."

"I'm not sure that's actually possible," I mutter under my breath, although loud enough for him to hear every word before swiping the folder from the desk and flipping it open.

I scan the page, shamelessly looking for the most important piece of information to me right now.

And when I find it, my eyes practically pop out of my head.

"Holy shit," I breathe. My knees give out and I crash very inelegantly into the chair behind me. "That's?—"

"Agreeable?" Kian asks smugly.

"Um…" It's fucking crazy. There is no way on earth that I deserve a salary like that for following him around like a puppy and doing his bidding. Not unless— "What exactly do you expect me to do for that figure?" I ask suspiciously.

I swear to God if he's expecting "benefits", then he's about to find this entire folder shoved so far up his ass that he'll never be able to retrieve it.

"You'll find your roles and responsibilities listed on the next page," he says without bothering to look at me.

Instead, he presses a button on the phone console sitting on his desk before demanding that someone bring us both a coffee. He rattles off both our orders as if we've been working together for years, not the last thirty-five seconds.

"How did you know?" I ask once he's hung up.

"I always do my research, Lorelei," he says, holding my eyes across his massive walnut desk.

A wave of nerves rushes through me as I think about all the things he could discover about me. About my family.

Internally, I cringe. Girls like me don't belong in fancy offices like these. I've felt out of place since the day I left my hometown. Not that I've let anyone know that.

Holding my head high, I keep my mask firmly in place.

If he didn't like what he found, then I wouldn't be sitting here right now. My past holds many, many reasons as to why I shouldn't have a job like this, but he's allowing it nonetheless.

"Of course you do. Heaven forbid the great Kian Callahan isn't fully in control of everything at all times."

He glares at me—and probably questions his life choices and decisions.

This is on him, though. I could have been downstairs right now, being welcomed into the finance team. But no, here I am, sitting in his fancy office, discovering what this all-powerful man requires from his assistant.

His jaw ticks with annoyance, but he refrains from responding. Instead, he turns to his computer and allows me to continue reading the list of requirements he has of me.

Most of them are to be expected. Managing his schedule. Monitoring email, mail, phone calls, and other company logistics. Providing administrative support. Attending and minuting meetings. Planning events both on and off-site. And then there are a whole host of finance-related tasks that I'm not sure a standard assistant would ever be expected to do, but the sight of them warms something inside me. Maybe he doesn't just want me to be his little bitch. Maybe there is more to this than I first thought.

"What's this?" I ask before reading a line about travel.

He glances up, studying me for a beat before he responds.

"When I need to travel, you'll make the arrangements and then travel with me."

"W-with you?" I squark.

His smirk grows. "Yes," he confirms simply before turning back to his screen.

"O-okay."

He waits a moment, allowing me to get to the bottom of the page before sitting back in his seat, his lips parting to say something, when a knock sounds on his office door.

Kian reaches for something under his desk before calling for whoever it is to enter.

The lady Rebecca introduced me to, after we exited the elevator, steps inside the room with a tray in her hands.

"Thank you, Melissa."

Melissa , I say to myself, making a mental note. If she works up here, then something tells me that I'm going to need her support in the coming weeks and months.

"Thank you so much," I say when she places a mug before me.

"You're welcome," she replies softly before looking up at Kian. "Be nice, remember. And maybe try to keep this one a little longer than the last," she teases.

"Thank you, Melissa. That will be all."

I wait until the door clicks closed behind her before asking the obvious question.

"How long did your previous assistant last?"

Honestly, I'm not sure I want the answer, but I can't not know now that it's been brought up.

Lifting my mug to my lips, I blow across the top of the surface before taking a sip.

It's hot. Too hot. But something tells me it's less painful than what I'm going to experience working for Kian.

"Six hours," he states, making me almost choke on my coffee.

"Six hours?" I balk. "What the hell did you do to make her leave after six hours?"

He shrugs one shoulder. "She didn't have what it took. I can be…" He trails off, and I can't help but wonder if he's expecting me to fill the blanks.

I could. Easily. But it will probably end with me having an even shorter stint as Kian's assistant than my predecessor.

"A lot," he finally says.

"Oh, really? Can't say I've noticed."

He quirks a brow at me as he sips his coffee.

"Is there anything else on that list that you'd like to discuss?"

I scan the page again, trying to find something untoward that I can pull him up on. But the truth is, it's a really good job description.

"There are a lot of financial tasks on here. Are they usually things you expect your assistant to do?"

He shakes his head once before lowering his mug.

"I've never had anyone working this closely with me before who has an understanding of what I do."

"And you think that will make this partnership more successful?"

"Possibly." He studies me as he swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he thinks. "I don't trust easily, Lorelei. It's one of the many reasons why I've never found an assistant I've connected with. But, since KC and I took over from our father, I'm finding my workload growing with tasks I'm not willing to pass down for many reasons."

"But you trust me with them?"

"Hmm," he mumbles.

"So, I did only get this job because of Tate," I say with a frown.

"Yes and no. I don't usually go around hiring friends of friends. I just…" My brows lift, impatiently waiting for him to continue. "I don't know," he muses, scrubbing the perfectly trimmed stubble on his chin. "I'm interested to see how this will work out."

"Because I turned you down," I reason.

He smiles.

"Not many women do that," he says, leaning forward to press a button on his phone again.

A deep male voice greets him not a second later. "Please could you bring Miss Tempest's computer and cell phone up. She'll meet you at her desk."

"Yes, sir."

Kian cuts the call and focuses on me once again.

My temperature increases as our eye contact continues.

"Simon will meet you at your desk and get you logged into the network and go through everything you need to know.

"You will already find emails in your inbox with your first tasks for the morning, then we have meetings all afternoon. I've sent you notes from some of the previous ones. Make sure you're prepared."

"Y-yes."

"Yes?" he asks, quirking a brow.

"Yes…s-sir," I guess, my stomach knotting.

It's not the first time I've called him that, but something feels very different right now.

He studies me for three more seconds before dismissing me in favor of his monitor.

"I'll be unavailable for the next two hours. Any questions, Melissa will be able to assist you."

"O-okay. Sure. Yes."

His lips twitch with amusement, but he's too focused on whatever he's reading to respond, and a couple of seconds later, I let myself out of his office.

It's not until I'm standing on the other side of the door and able to suck in a deep breath that reality begins to dawn on me.