1. Claire

Pain radiates from my backside, coursing its way up to my shoulders as the unforgiving mat underneath my 115-pound frame begs me to go back to sleep. There"s a moment when the human body hits an immovable object with such force, it knocks the wind out of you.

It feels like my lungs need a timeout as I pause, pressing my fingers against the firm mat. My chest constricts while my brain finally signals my body to breathe again. The gasp and cough of me deeply inhaling and exhaling echoes around the massive room.

"Get up, Claire. We don"t have time for this." Bonnie"s voice has the feel of an authority figure. However, since I know she"s only six years older than my eighteen, I tend to ignore her commands. Especially when she hurls them at me at six in the morning.

"We"ve been at this for twenty minutes already. Can we take a break?" I ask her.

"Is that what you"re going to ask someone when they"re trying to hurt you? You"re going to ask a robber, or someone trying to abduct you, to take a break because you"re winded?" Bonnie Edelman"s tone is ripe with sarcasm, enough to push me to my feet.

"Well, you"re my bodyguard. Why aren"t you guarding me? This is stupid and I can"t—" I stop the words from coming out of my mouth. It"s like a dog whistle to the master of the home"s ears.

Unfortunately, his shadow darkens the doorway to the training room. The nearly two thousand square feet of rubber mats, weights, mirrors, and all sorts of combat equipment, masks the truly ornate nature of the space.

Beautiful hardwood floors are under the mats, and they"re the same polished dark oak that make up the columns placed in each corner. Columns that look like the carved cherubs on top are holding up the fifteen-foot-tall ceilings. Light floods in from the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, but there isn"t enough sunlight in the world to make Julian Blackwell look less menacing from his spot near the door.

"Show me." Julian"s commands are never ignored. The striking angles of his clean-shaven jaw show the tension in his face. He is grinding his teeth as he watches me spar with my bodyguard.

Bonnie"s black hair is pulled tight and into a low bun where my platinum blonde ponytail sits high on my head. She"s got an inch or two over my 5"6 height and has to weigh about thirty pounds more than me. The minute she charges me like a fucking rhino, annoyance rattles me and delays my reaction time. It"s a direct contradiction to what Bonnie"s trying to instill with these training drills.

My mind is paying attention to everything except the woman wrapping her arms around my torso. She hoists me into the air and slams me down onto the mat again. A low growl pierces my lips which are pressing tightly together to stop myself from crying. I close my eyes to take a few breaths, maintaining my composure and not wanting to show any weakness.

When they open, I"m looking into a pair of olive-green eyes that make me wish I was old enough to be someone he"d date. Julian"s crouched beside me in a suit that shouldn"t be anywhere near my sweaty ass right now.

"Claire." His voice is monotone. "This has to become instinctual for you. It has to be second nature. When people know who you are?—"

I cut him off. "I"m nobody. I"m Claire Anderson, an orphan. I"ve been doing this same training routine for months and I"m no closer to defending myself against Bonnie, let alone some imaginary villain you think is watching my every move."

"You"re somebody to me," Julian says with a touch of sincerity which seems a bit softer than his typically rigid demeanor. "When people know who you are to me…I just want you to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. Don"t say you can"t do anything. Don"t say you"re a nobody. Finish up and Bonnie will drive you to the office."

"Whatever you say, Boss-well." I smirk at the name I"ve been calling him since I first met him.

"Please, Claire, at the office, remember?—"

I whip my palm up to stop him. "I know, I know. Mr. Blackwell, or just Julian."

He huffs and pushes himself to his feet, grabbing my hand to haul me up with him. Julian overestimates how heavy I am as I collide into his chest. It"s firm to the touch, muscular under his shirt. My hand grazes the space over his heart for a second before I back away, not wanting to get him dirty.

"Be on time, today," Julian tells us as he walks out of the room.

Bonnie sidles up beside me with her arms folded across her chest. "Ready for round three?"

Without hesitation, I drop and sweep my leg behind her calves, sending her to the mats with a resilient thud.

"Triumph! Once my attacker is down, I can do whatever the moment calls for to give myself a fighting chance to get away." I repeat one of the many lines she drills into me every morning.

I can"t help but feel the accomplishment of getting her onto the floor this morning. If only Julian had seen me do that. I extend my hand to help her up, which she takes to get to her feet.

"Good job, Claire. I"ll be out front in one hour. Is that enough time for you to get ready?" Bonnie asks.

"No, but I"ll be ready in one hour. You heard Boss-well, "Don"t be late.""

Bonnie snickers as she walks out of the massive training room. Even though I"ve called Blackwell Manor home for the past ten years, I don"t think I"ll ever get used to it. There"s so much money invested in this estate. It"s amazing how cold a place can be with heated floors. Lonely and quiet are the overwhelming feelings which linger around every lavish corner. The staff is kept to a minimum. Then again, it"s only me and Julian who live here.

There"s a small cottage somewhere on the property where staff can spend the night or take a break. However, there"s rarely anyone in the main house. Julian has two maids who come in regularly to clean, but they don"t speak to us. I"ve tried, but all I get are simple smiles and gestures. There"s a chef who prepares meals, but we rarely sit down for a formal dinner since our schedules aren"t aligned. The bulk of our food is packed and labeled in the fridge, or I grab food from one of my favorite spots around the city. The chef is as mute and indifferent as the rest of the staff, only sparing a three-word greeting any time we cross paths, "Hello, Miss Anderson," or "Evening, Miss Anderson."

My time to get ready is wasting away on thoughts of friendly faces in a home that doesn"t seem to welcome children. It used to be fun when I was little. My Dad and Julian were best friends. Any time they"d get together, there would be a bunch of kids running around here.

After my Dad died, Julian taking me in didn"t translate to the nonstop birthday party type of action I was expecting. Julian tries, but in all of my time living here, I"ve rarely seen him date, let alone consider making a family with someone. Perhaps taking care of me turns him off of the idea.

A part of me pictures what it would be like if Julian were to have a wife and get married. Pangs of jealousy hit me. I"m not sure if it"s the childish crush I"ve had on him all these years, or if he"ll have to get rid of me.

Flashes of him with another woman force me to refocus on the day ahead. My first official day as Julian"s executive assistant without shadowing his previous one. I"m on my own today in the role, and I"m not to be late. Sure enough, by the time I slip into a navy-blue pantsuit that compliments my light grey eyes, it"s time to leave.

Bonnie sits in a matte black luxury SUV with tinted windows and it makes me feel like a politician. Instead of getting in the back seat, I hop into the passenger side beside Bonnie and crank up the music. The cool breeze off the bay comes in through the windows and lets me enjoy the scenic drive across the Golden Gate Bridge into downtown San Francisco.

Hills, trolleys, businesses, artists, commuters. The early morning shuffle of everyone with something to do is an energy I thrive on. When Bonnie pulls into the parking garage for Nuvola Scura Industries, I"m ready to take on the day.

Bonnie shuts off the car but holds her hand up for me to wait until she rounds the vehicle to open my door. Once it"s secure enough for her, she follows me inside the lobby of one of the largest skyscrapers in the city. I"m not sure if Julian owns the entire building, but he"s the CEO of Nuvola.

It"s a quarter to eight when we step into the silver and grey lobby. There are a few people entering the building as we do. When stepping onto the elevator, Bonnie puts herself between me and everyone else. There are a few familiar faces, but no one I know well enough to speak to. I simply give them a timid nod and a smile to say good morning.

However, once I"m out of the fray, I head directly to Julian"s office to get started. The desk in front of it is empty after he fired his last assistant. No one can say why, but I feel like I should be different. He put me in this position to give me a taste of the real world. Eventually, I"ll decide on a college to go to or maybe I"ll skip school altogether.

Instead of drowning myself in notions of the future, I pull out the Executive Assistant's tablet from the desk drawer as I drop my cell phone inside of it. I pop in a Bluetooth earbud, connect it to the tablet, and walk into his office. Julian"s not there but seeing his suit jacket draped over his chair tells me he"s in the building somewhere.

The dense charcoal grey carpet muffles the sound of anyone coming in or out of this office. There"s a wall of monitors with various news feeds scrawling across them and I can see his mug is empty.

Another refill of Julian"s mug after ordering his breakfast seems redundant, but he likes his matcha latte in the morning while drinking black coffee for the rest of the day. I move the matching suit jacket from his chair to a hanger in a hidden closet which opens by pushing a rectangular tile on the wall beside another door leading to the bathroom.

After sorting through emails, his schedule comes together easily. As I"m setting the page onto his desk, Julian walks into the office, Fiona Douglas on his heels. Fiona takes every opportunity to let everyone know she"s the Chief Financial Officer, as well as Julian"s personal finance manager. She looks like money in an impeccably tailored suit and equally expensive matching shoes. Her wavy honey blonde hair cascades to one side of her stunning bronze face with a soft nude lip gloss that emphasizes their fullness.

Green eyes, similar to Julian"s, glance in my direction before she refocuses on our boss.

"You can"t think this is the best decision for Nuvola right now, Jules. It doesn"t make sense with the magnitude of loss you"re taking on these properties. I can"t execute these contracts with the terms you have in good faith. I won"t," she says with finality.

It"s rare for me to see anyone stand up to Julian, let alone disagree with his decisions. There"s an eerie calmness to his tone as he talks to Fiona.

"You"re going to do exactly what I told you to do, exactly how I told you to do it, Fiona. It"s not your money, and thankfully, I don"t have shareholders to answer to. Don"t question it. I have something larger in mind, but it"s for you to see the bigger picture right now. Do it and I want those contracts on my desk as soon as it"s done."

Fiona opens her mouth to speak, but ultimately decides against it. Instead, she mumbles something under her breath before shaking her head while walking out of the office. I can"t help the smile spreading across my face as I watch her leave.

"Good morning, Julian. I have your schedule. There"re a few messages from Eileen Fitzgerald regarding an event. She wants the measurements of the ballroom sent to her again."

Julian grumbles. "That woman is lucky my mother referred her, or she"d be fired by now. Have her connect with Edward. And make sure the date for July 15th is the date she has down. I don"t want this thing to be too frilly either."

"Got it," I tell him, jotting down notes into the tablet. "Is there anything in particular I need to know for this event?"

"Actually, it"s for your birthday," he says nonchalantly.

My hand stops moving long enough to look at Julian, waiting for clarity. "My birthday was months ago and the 15th is in like three weeks. How is this event for my birthday?"

To my surprise, Julian rises out of his seat, turning to face me. That"s when I feel it. The heat of his presence. The energy he gives off engulfs me like a magnet, pulling me close to him. He lowers his head enough to kiss me on the forehead, letting his wavy brown hair fall out of place.

When he backs away with a half-cocked grin, brushing his hair out of his face, I want it to be my fingers doing that. I bite my lower lip, wanting his kiss to be something more than a gesture akin to a pat on the head.

"Claire, I"ve been busy these past few years. Things are finally falling into place. As they do, I just want you to know I care about you and I"m sorry I haven"t been the best, uh, guardian."

"It"s fine, Julian, really. I"m thankful to you and your family for everything. I don"t have anyone else but you guys. Just staying with you at the Manor is enough for me."

"It"s not enough. You"re a young woman and you deserve to have a birthday bash for making it this far when you didn"t have to. You stick to the routine and training I give you?—"

"I complain every morning," I tell him with a giggle.

"You complain, but you also finish. As a reward for being such a great kid who"s grown into a beautiful young woman, strong, smart, and everything that reminds me of your folks, I"m planning a party for you. The guest list should be finalized any day now."

"I don"t want to sound ungrateful, Julian. I really don"t, but if it"s a party for me, how is the guest list finalized? Most of the kids I went to school with are away at college, or out of the country for summer break. Is there going to be anyone I know at this birthday party for me?"

"There"re going to be plenty of people you know. Don"t worry about it, Claire. You"re going to have a great time." Julian"s tone doesn"t leave room for debate as he sits behind his desk. The way he narrows his gaze at the documents is dismissive enough. When he slides the schedule I printed for him into his desk drawer without so much as a glance, I walk out of his office and slam the door behind me.