Chapter 3

Chapter Three

“ U nless, of course, you do want to fuck me? Could be hot, like hate fucking ?” His words repeat in my head. I can feel my whole face heating up. I need to get out of here.

The audacity of this guy! Who the hell does he even think he is? Xavier freaking Christianson, Melbourne’s most eligible bachelor—according to the tabloids. I really am going to have to kill my best friend. Damn Lucy for putting me in this situation.

“Not even if you were the last man on earth,” I say between clenched teeth. Maybe I’ll kill both of the Christianson children by the day’s end. It would be a shame, though, seeing as I really do love their parents.

“Never say never, babe.” He pushes up off the couch, taking a step closer to me.

“You’re drunk,” I state. It’s not a question; he smells like a damn brewery.

“I’m sobering up.”

“You need a shower. You stink. Is this going to be a common occurrence? Do you have a drinking problem I should be aware of?” I ask him.

What am I even saying? I’m not staying here. So why am I not running out the door already?

I know why. As much as I hate him, he has some kind of weird hold over me. It’s why I’ve gone out of my way to avoid him whenever we’ve been in the same room. I can’t trust myself not to turn into one of those hussies who’d jump up on him, ready and willing to ride him all night long.

Not that I ever would. I have restraint. And self-respect. Xavier Christianson is nothing but heartbreak—and probably a laundry list of STDs. He’s also my best friend’s brother. My best friend’s smoking-hot, older brother.

“No, it’s not a normal occurrence,” he snaps, walking passed me to his desk. “Take a seat, Shardonnay. I’m only going to go over this once.”

“It’s Shar, and I want a pay raise,” I tell him, lowering myself onto one of the chairs in front of him.

“You want a pay raise?” He laughs. “Do you even know what this job is paying?” he asks.

“Yes, twenty-five dollars an hour, with overtime at time and a half. I want twenty-eight and overtime at double. Call it an asshole allowance, because putting up with you should surely come with an additional stipend,” I tell him.

His eyebrows shoot up in shock.

“Oh, I like this one. Can we keep her?” A voice behind me has my head turning and then my mouth dropping.

“Hi, I’m Nathan, and you are?” he asks, offering me his open palm.

I stand and hold out a hand as Nathan’s wraps around mine, his hold firm. Strong. Damn, I think my ovaries just summersaulted . He’s jaw-droppingly hot. Like GQ model hot. He has dark hair that hangs loosely across his forehead. Dark-brown eyes, with tanned skin that suggests he spends a lot of time in the sun.

As hot as he is, though, he doesn’t compare to Xavier freaking Christianson . I don’t think anybody ever could. There’s a reason Melbourne’s female population is vying for his attention.

“Nathan, is there a purpose for your presence in my office?” Xavier growls—yes, growls—behind me.

Nathan smiles wide, a smile I bet would have girls throwing their panties at him. “Yes, Alistair told me you had a hot little thing in here. I thought I’d come and save her.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Xavier grunts. “No, just fucking no. Don’t even think it. This is Shardonnay, Lucy’s best friend,” he says.

“Huh, well, that’s… interesting.” Nathan’s brows draw down. “Anyway, I’m just across the hall, if you need anything, sweetheart.”

“It’s Shardonnay,” Xavier corrects him.

“So you’ve said.” Nathan sends a wink in my direction as he turns and walks out of the room.

I sit back down in the seat. “Who’s that?” I’m asking for more than just the man’s name.

“That is someone you need to stay far, far away from,” he says, opening his MacBook.

“Why? He seems nice—and hot.” I smirk.

Xavier tips his head to the side. I can’t help but squirm under his scrutiny. “He’s way too fucking old for you, babe, and he’s technically one of your bosses. Nathan’s a partner here.”

“He’s not too old for me. He can’t be any older than you are. And, fine, I get it. No screwing the bosses.” I smirk again. I have no intention of screwing anyone here, but the look on Xavier’s face—the anger—it does something to my insides. He’s really too easy to work up; he’ll probably die of a heart attack in his forties at this rate.

“There are rules if you want to keep this job. I suggest you follow every single one to the T.” He pulls out a piece of paper and writes something at the top before handing it over to me.

It’s a typed-out list. Of rules. Are we in school? Where the rules have to be spelt out for you? Isn’t that what an employee handbook is for? It’s the one scribbled across the top that makes me smile, though. He’s just added it. It clearly wasn’t a rule before, and I can’t help but wonder why he’s adding it now…

#1: No fornicating with employees or associates of the firm.

“Fornicate? Really? Are you fifty?” I laugh.

Xavier pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. “Don’t question the rules. Just fucking accept and follow them.”

“Fine, but back to that pay raise?” I question.

“I’ll give you twenty-seven an hour and time and a half for overtime,” he counters.

“Deal.”

“Take that list of rules with you. Memorise them,” he says. “Come on, I’ll show you your workstation. Today, I want you to familiarise yourself with my calendar. Visit HR and fill out the necessary forms. They’ll issue you all the equipment you’ll need.”

“Okay,” I agree. This job won’t be hard. I think the hardest part will be keeping my panties dry around Xavier. I might despise the man, but I’m not blind, and apparently my sex drive seems to go into over drive whenever he’s around.

I probably just need to get laid; it’s been a while. A really long while. Maybe I’ll head out with Lucy this weekend. Experience my first one-night stand. Even as I think of it, my whole body cringes.

Ew. Nope, I don’t think I can do it.

I’ve always been self-conscious of my body. I’m small. I don’t have the kind of curves that the opposite sex lusts over. I know this and I’m beginning to be okay with it. It’s only when I’m around men like Xavier that I feel more like a child than the woman I am.

“This is your desk. If there’s anything you need, ask someone else. Anyone but me,” Xavier says.

“Well, that won’t be hard, considering you’re probably the last person I want to talk to in this entire building. No, entire block—the entire country seems to cover it better. Don’t worry, Xavier, I will speak to you as little as humanly possible.” I smile.

“It’s Mr Christianson. I want a coffee: tall, black, one sugar.” He stomps back into his office.

I pull out my phone and search for the closest coffee shop. There’s a Starbucks a hundred metres down the street. Great, gives me an excuse to leave the office. As soon as I step out of the building, I call Lucy. I don’t care that she’ll still be sleeping. This deserves her being woken up over.

“Shar, everything okay?” she asks.

“No, everything’s not okay, Lucy. What the hell were you thinking? Your brother? Really?” I seethe.

“Calm down. It can’t be that bad, and I negotiated a good salary for that position.”

“Not that bad? I love you, Lucy, but you’re blind when it comes to your brother. He is the biggest freaking jerk on the planet. He’s self-centred, loves himself way too much, and the bastard already offered to have hate sex with me,” I scoff.

“He what?”

“Never mind, it’s not important. He gave me a list of rules—a typed-out, neat list of rules.”

Lucy laughs. “I’ll meet you at yours at six tonight. I’ll bring dinner and prosecco, and we can go through this list of his… and think of the most creative ways to break every single one of them.”

“Deal, I gotta go. I’m fetching Satan’s coffee. Did you know he likes it black? I guess it makes sense, seeing as it matches his soul.”

“I know.” She laughs again. “Have a great day. Love you.”

“I hate you right now. But I love you too.” I hang up and step in line to order the devil’s brew. I’d like to take my time walking back to the office but I don’t. No matter how much I can’t stand Xavier, I still want to be the best damn secretary he’s ever had. I have a strong work ethic, and I’m not afraid of putting in long hours. I thrive on it.

My steps falter when I walk into Xavier’s office. He’s not alone. The door was wide open, though, so I’m assuming this isn’t an important meeting. Both Xavier and the man occupying one of the two seats in front of his desk pause their conversation and stare at me. Recovering from my shock of a new pair of eyes glaring at me, I walk up to the desk and place the coffee cup in front of him.

“Black,” I say, leaving out the like your soul part of the sentence. “Here, eat this.” I hand over the paper bag with the blueberry muffin I picked up for him.

“I didn’t ask for a muffin,” Xavier grunts.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask to be working for Satan today either. Eat the damn muffin. It’ll help soak up all that alcohol in your system.” I go to march towards the door when a hand reaches out and grabs my arm. I look from the palm wrapped around my wrist, up to the crystal-blue eyes of the man that same hand belongs to.

“Alistair,” Xavier growls.

“Sorry, I’m Alistair. It’s nice to meet you.” The handsome stranger releases his hold on me.

“Shardonnay,” I fill in for him.

“Welcome to the firm. I have a feeling you’re going to fit right in here.”

“Thank you,” I say before hightailing it out of the room. There is way too much testosterone in that office for me to handle right now.