3. Jack

3

JACK

I'm not an asshole by nature. However, I find myself at every turn being a complete jerk to Camilla Graff. I can't help it. The second I saw her, I knew that letting her in even an inch would completely break me.

She's stunning. And Seth didn't promise me eye candy. He promised me an assistant. A good one.

And she is. She absolutely is. She's been whipping me into shape whether I like it or not, filling in the various cracks in my plan or lack thereof.

But she's also hard to look away from, which is why I try not look at her at all.

Luscious corkscrew curls framing her heart-shaped face, brilliant smile offered even when I don't deserve it, full lips usually adorned with a dark shade of lipstick.

And don't get me started on her body. If I haven't crossed a line already by thinking about her, that's going to do the trick.

Today, Camilla is putting the final touches on our five-year plan. She's sitting at the island, typing furiously on her laptop on our shared document.

Again, I try not to look at her for fear my insides will turn to mush. Her curls are pulled back into a claw clip on her head, showing off the dark hollows of her cheeks, and her eyes are focused and clear.

Beautiful.

"Okay, and…" She presses a few more keys, then the period with a flourish. "Take a look."

I circle the island to look over her shoulder at the document, placing my hand on the back of her chair and leaning over her shoulder.

She smells like a citrus tree, fresh and clean, but sweet all the same.

Hold your breath, idiot .

I try, but that makes it impossible to read.

"I changed a bit of the executive summary to reflect more personality. You know, they will want to know the attitude of the business."

"I didn't know businesses were people to investors."

Though I can front all the capital for the project, she's insistent I consider investment to increase our reach.

I understand her plight. The more people are involved, the more people want it to succeed. Still, I can't help feeling that this is all for naught. That at some point, something is going to make me throw in the towel and wonder why I even bothered trying.

She shakes her head. "You might not like it, but we're technically going to be a corporation. Investors know that we are going to be appealing to a market that cares about who they support. We want to be approachable."

"I just want to make coffee," I grumble.

She laughs. That laugh too, light and airy and right from the center of her being, drives me up a wall in a good way.

"Look, it can be simple and clean, but it still needs to have a soul, Lyons." She gets up from her chair and goes to my fridge.

Though we aren't comfortable around each other, she's made herself more at home than I feel most of the time. She snags a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge and cracks it open, the bottle hissing. "Unless you're not familiar with that concept."

"Excuse me?" I frown.

Camilla shrugs and takes a sip, her brown eyes wide and innocent.

Is she…flirting with me?

No, impossible. She's far too professional for that.

Is she far too professional to be an asshole, though? Yet to be determined.

"I like it," I say.

"Good. Now we have that in our pocket, we can get to work on the timeline on our side of things."

I blink at her. I'm ready to call it a day. It's not even two, but we have been working nonstop with only a menial lunchbreak as interruption. I don't know how she manages to keep going and going and going. She's like the Energizer Bunny.

No wonder Seth thought she was the best woman for the job. To assist me, although she seems to take umbrage with that moniker.

She's acting more like we're a team, which I wouldn't mind if she had any of the money to front for the project.

What I say still goes. It's my brand, my business. Camilla might be invaluable, and I'll compensate her appropriately, but if she thinks we're partners, she's sorely mistaken.

I nod. "Fine. Well, we have our first full team meeting on Wednesday… Get everyone aligned then."

She cocks her heard. "Mm…alignment. You know the lingo."

My lips twist to the side in a half-smile. "Trying."

"Okay. Wednesday, everyone will get aligned , so we need to prepare for that. You want me to make a slide deck?"

I lift my shoulders. "Sure, I guess that'd be good."

"It will be great." She grins. "Okay, I'll get to work on that, then we'll have to spend some time practicing so that you give off CEO energy and–"

What the… "Do I not give off CEO energy now?"

Camilla's head cocks to the side again, and she gives me a placid smile. "You absolutely do. You're already dressing for it."

Something about that doesn't feel like a compliment.

"We just need to make sure you're exuding as much leadership potential as possible," she explains. "You know, we're trying to bring together this team of people to bring your ideas to life. Which reminds me, we need to spend some more time brainstorming names for–"

"I'm bringing this team together."

Camilla's eyes widen. "Sorry."

"It's my team. Not our team."

Any hint of a smile fades away. "Right."

"So frankly, you needn't concern yourself with what kind of potential I do or don't have. It's not on you if the team isn't impressed by me."

Camilla frowns. "Of course, it's on me. I want this to succeed just as much as you do. Just because it's not my brainchild doesn't mean I don't care. Not to mention, it's nice to have a job."

I scratch the back of my head. "Listen, I don't know if Seth was as clear as he could have been with the scope of your job, Camilla."

"Okay, then let's talk about it." She leans on the island across from me, hands splayed out on the slate countertop.

We stare each other down. It takes everything in me not to let my eyes drop to the place where her blouse pulls away just enough to reveal her cleavage. Her breasts are just the right size, and god, how I'd like to touch them.

Fucking focus, Jack.

"You're assisting me. That's what Seth told me would be happening. And I don't know what he might have communicated to you–"

"He indicated I'd be an assistant with benefits."

There's a throbbing feeling between my legs.

Cool it.

"What's that mean?"

"I'm here at the ground floor. He suggested that might come with certain privileges. You know, a little bit more influence and say. Which is why I thought…why I was saying…" Camilla stops and waves her hand through the air. "It's your company. I'm just another set of hands."

I sigh. "I suppose that fair. Your title, though, is still assistant. This is my company. You don't have to worry about your reputation being attached to what the company is or isn't. You'll be paid as long as you do your work, which so far has been satisfactory."

Camilla scoffs. "Satisfactory?"

"More than." I grit my teeth. She might be beautiful but god she's a pain in the ass.

"Only say that if you mean it." She blinks a few times. "Anyway, boss, what's next on the agenda?"

"I…" I wipe my hands down the front of my slacks. "Well, we should talk about that timeline you mentioned."

Her smile returns. "Great idea! First things first, securing a plantation, right?"

"Right."

"Great, let me pull up the calendar." She whips her phone out and navigates to her calendar app that already has all the tentative dates of announcements and openings courtesy of our marketing manager. "So, when do you want to go down to Kona?"

I laugh to myself, humorless and dry. "Well, I won't be going to Kona."

Her eyebrows jump. "Sorry?"

"You'll go," I announce.

Camilla's chin juts forward. " I'll go?"

"You said you'd have more influence, right?" I offer with a wave of my hand. "What could be more influential than picking out our base of operation?"

She begins to shake her head. "I wouldn't know the first thing about–"

"The plantations I've seen for sale are all to my liking. I'll give you a checklist when it comes to picking the right one. It won't be hard, I promise."

Camilla crosses her arms over her chest. "If this is your business, then you should pick out the plantation."

"Yes, but you did say you wanted more privileges, didn't you?"

"This isn't what I meant. This is a huge decision."

"I know it is, but–"

"It would be foolish for you not to go," she says in a cool and objective tone.

My blood boils.

I know she's not meaning to set me off as much as she is. She couldn't possibly know the full story of why I don't want to go. But I'm in charge. What I say goes.

Isn't that enough? Isn't that what she's being paid for? "Foolish isn't the word I'd use for it."

"I see. So, my opinion is only valid when you say it's valid."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Camilla places the edge of her hand against the island with each point she makes. "I say you need to prepare for the meeting. I say you need to increase your leadership potential. All of that is moot because you say so, but the second you want my opinion–"

"I would say that's how a hierarchy in a business works," I remark.

"That's not my expertise! You're the one who knows about coffee. I'm the one who knows about companies . So, if you want to start a coffee company, seems like we need both heads involved to–"

"I think we should end this conversation for now. I'm exhausted and need a break from all of this." I turn toward the living room. I'd just like to sit down, throw on the television, and think about…anything else.

Camilla huffs. "I'm not done with this conversation."

"Well, I am." I'm not trying to be mean. I simply can't do this.

These six days have been overwhelming in ways I didn't know were possible. I knew that starting a business was going to be work, I'm not an idiot. I knew it would be grueling at times.

But I haven't shaken my lack of trust in myself. In my ideas. This all feels like a waste of time. Meanwhile, I have Little Miss Corporate breathing down my neck, which I know should be a good thing. I know Seth picked only the best for me.

I can't stand it, though. Because I can barely stand myself.

"You'll need to find a new assistant, then," Camilla says.

I turn around to find her shoveling her computer and other sundries into her backpack. "What?"

"Come on, Jack. It's obvious this isn't working," she says without looking up, her curls veiling her expression.

I grip my hands into fists. "You're quitting."

"You could say that," she says, her eyes rising to meet mine.

I bite my tongue.

"I just hope Seth will take me back."

"You're quitting because I want you to go to Hawaii on your own?"

Camilla's head dips back, and she scoffs. "Just a symptom of the problem."

"Which is? "

She quits packing. When she looks at me, there are lines in her forehead, her eyes are tremoring, lips pursed in a thin line. "All we've been doing since I arrived here is tolerating each other, Jack. Neither of us needs this."

If only I could tell her I have to keep her at arm's length. If she was any closer, I'd forget which way is up and which is down. I'm doing this for our own good.

"There are plenty of people in New York, hell, in the world who would want to work with you, Jack."

I can tell she's holding back on what she really wants to say to maintain some amount of professionalism. "But I'm not one, all right? You want someone to be pushed around, and that's not me."

"I'm not pushing…" I run my tongue along my lower lip and bite back on the rest of the sentence. "You know what? Fine, you don't think we're a match? That's fine. But you can't quit. You're fired."

Camilla slaps her hands down on the kitchen island, her mouth ajar. "Are you being serious right now?"

"Yes, I am. I was giving you a chance to prove your mettle, it didn't work, and your time is up." I cross my arms over my chest.

I have no idea what I am doing, and how things will go with Seth or if he will even help me find someone else, but the fact that she is leaving… leaving me? It fucking hurts. It shouldn't, but it does. And I am being an asshole, but I can't deal with being rejected by her. I can't. So, I'm setting this on my own terms. Because maybe then it won't hurt as much.

Right?

Camilla narrows her eyes at me. "Fine. You fired me. Does that feel better?"

No .

"I trust you can see yourself out."

Camilla's nose crinkles. It would be cute if we weren't on each other's throats.

She throws her bag over her shoulder and begins to head toward the door, but before she can make it, she flips back around. "Let me give you a piece of advice, Jack, since I know you're not used to this whole ‘having employees' thing–"

I drop into one of the leather armchairs and drop my face into a hand, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Please, don't."

"I know you're used to working with numbers and facts and figures, but people aren't like that. All right? People don't just bend to your will, they don't do what you expect. And if you want your business to succeed, you're going to need to at least act like the people who work for you are valued, even if you don't actually value them."

She doesn't know me at all. And that's my own fault.

When she first walked in, I wasn't sure how close I should let her get, so I decided none at all would be fine. Now it's biting me in the ass.

Too late to turn back now. "Are you done, Camilla?"

"Oh, my god , Jack."

I lift my gaze to her, furrowing my brow. "What the hell are you–"

"You don't get to just dismiss me like that."

"Actually, that's–"

Camilla's face is a mask of blankness all of a sudden. And I hate it.

"I forgot! The hierarchy. You're right. Forgive me, Sir."

My lips part. I say nothing.

"Sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to make you mad, Sir. " With that, she heads toward the door, grabs the knob, and with one last look over her shoulder offers, "Good luck with your company, Sir ."

I grip the arms of my chair.

Her face falls. "You're going to need it."

In an instant, she's gone.

I'm left alone in the wake of her fury, righteous probably if it wasn't directed at me.

However, I'm not thinking about what I could have done better. I'm not thinking about her arguments, not considering the mean things we said to each other, not wondering what I could have done better.

No, my mind is focused on only one thing.

The erection growing in my trousers.

It's not only that Camilla is a beautiful woman. That's enough to make any many hard. No, she had to go on and call me sir . I don't care if it was in jest, if it was a joke or an insult. The way the word popped out of her beautiful, darkly-painted mouth sent chills down my spine, my blood coursing, and arousal pounding through me.

I bite my bottom lip, hoping the pain will make me forget about the erection.

No such luck.

I palm myself through my pants and drop my head back. Relief like I haven't felt in a while.

Now, though, the floodgates are open. The moment I allow my mind to go there, I start think of Camilla calling me "sir" in situations unlike this one.

What it would feel like to have her body under mine. To fill her up. To be her lover, her protector, her everything.

But I don't want to just be "sir." No, my needs are deeper. Darker. I want to have her screaming for me as she calls me… Daddy .

Within a minute, I've rubbed myself to completion, my body jerking as I release into my briefs.

As I come down from the high of orgasm, my mind clears.

I need Camilla. Not her body, even if I wouldn't say no to it if it was on the table.

Fuck. Camilla on the table would be a real feast.

But no. I need her because of all she brought with her from the start. She is so much better at this than I could have hoped for. And her expertise is invaluable even if it plays upon my every insecurity in business.

Except now…it's too little too late. Because she's walked out on me. Because I am dumb. And I let her go. I told her to go.

I have to get her back, though.

I know I have a fight on my hands. A chase. Some groveling to do.

But for the first time in a long time, I don't want to give up.

I want to fight.

I'll get her back. Even if it means sacrificing my pride. Because something in me is crying out for her. Begging me to bring Camilla back to where she belongs.

Back to Daddy.