CHAPTER TWO: CHLOE

“Good morning, Miss St. James!” Melody’s cheery voice rang through the office the second I walked through the doors into the secretarial office of the Vice-President.

“Good morning, Melody, Daniel,” I replied, smiling at the two young assistant secretaries who, theoretically, existed to lessen my workload.

In reality, I wasn’t sure The Bastard knew they existed. If he did, he rarely showed it.

Either way, they were my precious babies.

“I got you some coffee,” I said, setting a takeaway coffee cup on each of their desks. “A vanilla latte with almond milk for Melody and a flat white with two sugars for Daniel.”

Daniel’s eyes lit up. “Miss St. James, are you an angel?”

Not to brag, but I was beginning to think that I was. How else had I survived the last ten hellish months under The Bastard?

“We should be the ones getting coffee for you,” Melody said, reaching forwards to take the cup despite her words. “You’re our superior.”

I waved a hand and walked over to my desk to set down the coffee carrier and take off my scarf. “Don’t be silly. The Vice-President has an eight-a.m. meeting, so if I’m getting coffee, it doesn’t matter if I buy two or four cups.” I smiled warmly at them and shrugged off my coat. “I wasn’t sure if you two would be here this early, so I’m glad to see you are so you can enjoy it hot.”

“Ah.” Daniel rubbed the back of his neck. “Mr Black called us and told us you were out drinking last night so we should come into work in case you were too hungover to make it in time for the meeting.”

That prick.

I pressed my fingers to my temples and sighed. “I was not ‘out drinking,’ as he put it, I was at dinner with a friend and happened to have a few drinks.”

“Ah, with Heidi?” He pouted. “You know we like Korean food.”

“Of course. You lightweights can’t handle real soju, and yesterday was a soju day.” I smiled as I booted up my computer. “Is there—”

“Good morning! Oh, everyone’s here!” Harvey Park, the head of the PR department, burst into the office with a beaming smile on his face. “Miss St. James, may I say how lovely you look this morning?”

“Mr Park, please restrain yourself, lest there be any unsavoury rumours about you again,” I replied coolly, selecting the files for this morning’s first meeting.

He perched on the edge of my desk and leant back, peering at what I was doing. “Oh, don’t be so uptight, Chlo. Nobody is going to spread rumours about us. Everyone already knows about our special connection.”

Melody gasped. “Special connection? Miss St. James, are you seeing Mr Park?”

Clearly not everyone did.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I replied, picking up my phone and glaring at Harvey. “Shut up, or I’m calling Aunt Fizz.”

“No. Not my mother.” He held out one hand, and I swatted him away. “Fine, I’ll behave.”

Melody looked between us, frowning. “I’m so confused.”

“She’s my cousin.” Harvey grinned, cocking his thumb back at me. “My mum is her dad’s sister. Can’t you see the family resemblance?”

Her head went from left to right and back again several times before she said in a very flat tone, “No, not really.”

Harvey’s shoulders sagged, and he sighed. “It’s all right. I know I got the lion’s share of the looks.”

“Mr Park, perhaps I should call your mother and ask her to book you a doctor’s appointment. Your delusions are more vivid than usual.” I glanced at the clock as it flicked over to seven-thirty and got to my feet.

Daniel and Melody were used to it and quickly followed suit, but Harvey stared at us all as if we had two heads until the doors swung open. He quickly bounced up off my desk and lowered his head as The Bastard was kind enough to grace us with his most fabulous presence.

There were three things that were unequivocally true about Theodore Philip Black, the Vice-President of the Black Ink Corporation and second-in-line to the dukedom of Ruxleigh.

He was talented. He was intelligent. He was handsome.

He was, quite literally, the outward picture of a perfect man—he had it all, from the looks to the money and the reputation. Despite what his detractors said, he really had earnt his position as Vice-President of Black Ink Corporation. I knew that firsthand after spending six years working on the previous President’s assistant team, and I’d seen with my own eyes as his then-executive assistant just how much work Theodore had put into securing his place.

The unspoken fourth truth was that he was a huge fucking pain in the arse.

I suspected that was exactly why his grandfather, the previous President and Duke of Ruxleigh, had begged me to transfer down to the Vice-President’s office. On paper, it was a demotion, but he’d treated it as a promotion instead. I’d gotten a salary raise, a new company car, and since the Duchess of Ruxleigh was the owner of the building that provided cut-rate rent to employees of the corporation, I’d also had my rent slashed to the bare minimum of utilities and taxes for twelve months.

I should have known back then that the offer was too good to be true.

Now, ten months after accepting it, I was regretting it big time.

Because Theodore Black was a bastard of the highest order.

I didn’t much care for his six-foot-two, leanly muscular build. Nor did I have any interest in his dark brown hair or his silver-blue eyes that went from calm to cold in a heartbeat. The same went for his sharp jaw and stupid downturned lips that were slightly heavier on the bottom half.

He was usually scowling or frowning, anyway, so what good were his pretty lips?

His cold and aloof personality was one thing, but his complete lack of disregard for anyone else’s time was the worst, as shown by his demand that I pick him up after his family dinner last night. He’d specifically told me to go home but had expected me to be at his beck and call all the same.

And let’s be real—the hotel would have happily called a driver service for him, but noooo. It had to be poor, overworked little me. All I wanted to do was drink liquor and eat good food, but even that’d been ruined by his selfishness.

It wasn’t just all that. He was overtly picky in reports and proposals to the point of being an obsessive perfectionist, and not in a good way. He changed his font preference and size on a regular basis. In the summer he wanted things on paper so he could work without a glare on a screen, but in the winter, everything had to be electronic so he could move quickly in the cold.

He was a coffee in the morning and tea the rest of the time kind of guy, but only one coffee shop was acceptable outside of my own brewing skills. His tea had to be a specific brand teabag and brewed for an exact amount of time, and he was even picky about the brand of sweetener.

He was a fucking living nightmare.

And that was exactly why I’d spent the past three weeks trying to resign.

My almost-free apartment? I’d forfeit it. I’d even pay the remaining rent if I had to.

The company car? The keys were available at any point. I could walk.

The salary? I’d be sad to see it go, but it was what it was. I couldn’t put a price on my sanity.

I wouldn’t die if I didn’t have this job, but there was a very real possibility that Theodore Black might die without me.

It was a risk I was willing to take.

“Good morning, sir,” I said, gathering the files I knew he was about to demand.

“Is it?” He cast his gaze towards me. “Do you have the files prepared for this morning’s meeting?”

“Right here.” I held them up. “I also have a coffee for you.”

“Is it from the place I like?”

His only saving grace in that line of questioning was that the place he liked was a small, family-run coffee shop, not a big chain. “Of course. I’m well aware of your preferences, sir.”

“Good. Bring it to my office.” He paused when he saw Harvey. “What are you doing here, Mr Park?”

Harvey glanced back at me. “Just a little early-morning chit-chat with my cousin, sir.”

“I don’t believe we pay the Director of Public Relations to chit-chat.” His silver-blue eyes focused with a laser-like precision on my unruly cousin.

“I’m not on the clock yet.” Harvey grinned, completely unfazed by The Bastard’s sharpness. “But I see that my lovely Chloe is, so I’ll leave her be.”

“I’d thank you for your graciousness, but I don’t thank idiots.”

“Twenty-five years of friendship, and you still can’t be nice to me.” Harvey clutched at his chest. “I’m so hurt I think I need a doctor. Maybe I can claim a workplace injury for emotional pain.”

“Mr Park.” Mr Black’s voice was deathly cold. “You’re not on the clock, but my secretaries are. Get lost.”

“You would do well to do as you’re told.” I gathered the files and The Bastard’s coffee. “Or I’ll call your mother.”

Harvey shuddered. “This is workplace abuse, I’m telling you.”

“Please excuse me for a moment, sir,” I said to The Bastard. I set the coffee and files back down and walked around my desk, only to grab Harvey by the arm and yank him towards the large glass doors. “You should focus on your own department, Mr Park.”

He sniffed. “Chlo, you’re so cold to your beloved cousin.”

“Never have I once described you as beloved. Please do not put words into my mouth.” I hauled open the door and pushed him through. “Off you go now.”

“Wait!” He grabbed the edge of the door, and I glared at his fingerprints touching the previously spotless glass. He dropped his grip to the handle with a little squeak and said, “Mum’s sixtieth birthday party is at the end of next month. She said you must show up.”

Ugh.

That meant Aunt Fizz was trying to set me up again.

“I’ll check my schedule. And before you leave…” I walked over to Daniel’s desk and took the glass cleaner and cloth he was already holding out. “Please clean up your mess, Mr Park.”

Harvey took the bottle and cloth from me with a sigh. “Yes, Miss St. James.”

“Thank you.” I spun around on my toes and retrieved the files and coffee. “Shall we, sir?”

The Bastard checked his watch as I opened the door to his office. “I would appreciate if we did.”

I waited for him to enter his office before ducking my head and following him inside. His office had the most beautiful view out over the cityscape of London, but it was far too wet and grey outside to enjoy the beauty it could hold.

It was dreary.

Much like my mood.

The Bastard took a seat behind his desk and cricked his neck. “Read my schedule.”

“There’s a meeting with the board of directors at eight a.m. regarding the quarter financial reports. At ten-thirty you have a meeting with the COO of Greenridge Investments, and at eleven-forty-five, the manager of advertising team one on the Fareham campaign will be submitting their proposal prior to the presentation next Monday.” I put his coffee down in front of him and proceeded to direct his blinds to partially open with one hand while still holding onto the tablet with the other. “Your lunch is from twelve-twenty to twelve-fifty, so please let me know what you’d like to eat today. There’s a conference call with the Duke of Ruxleigh at one p.m.—”

“What does Grandfather want?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have that information.”

“You’re close with him. Why not?”

“He informed me to tell you to shut up and show up, sir.”

“How rude. Does he think it’s acceptable for him to tell my secretary to speak to me that way?”

I offered him my best customer service smile and met his cool gaze. “That’s a question for His Grace. I couldn’t possibly speak on his behalf.”

The Bastard glared at me. “Tell him not to pass petty messages on through you in the future.”

“I highly doubt he will listen to me, but as you wish.” I barely managed to hold my sigh. “You have a gap in your schedule from one-forty until three p.m. when you have a call from the New York office of Black Ink so they can report on the expansion of the publishing business in the United States. The Vancouver office will join at four-fifteen. It’s expected to be done by five-thirty, when you should leave the office for a dinner meeting at La Reina restaurant with President Black.”

He leant forwards and steepled his fingers, touching his lips to his fingertips. “And what exactly is that meeting for, Miss St. James?”

Here we go.

Round two of: none of my fucking business.

“I couldn’t possibly say, sir. Your father called two days to schedule a meeting between the two of you, and I followed his orders,” I replied.

“Did you ask him what it was regarding?”

“Rest assured that I covered your list of unacceptable dinner reasons and received his assurance it didn’t concern any of those things.”

“Mm.” He sat back in his chair, still pressing his fingertips together. “How long until our first meeting?”

“Twenty minutes, sir.”

“Very well. Is there anything I need to look over before then?”

“Yes, this is an important document that was on my desk this morning.” I handed over the brown envelope that included one of three letters of resignation I’d prepared for today. “It’ll only take a moment of your time.”

“Who is it from?”

“It doesn’t say.”

“Then I’m not interested. Look into it for me, Miss St. James.”

I clenched my jaw and slipped the envelope back under my arm. “Of course, sir.”

The Bastard sipped his coffee, not even bothering to spare me a glance. “Is that all?”

“There was a voicemail from the young lady of the Grandstein household,” I replied calmly. “Emily requested that you call her back.”

“Does that have anything to do with my father’s request to have dinner with me tonight?”

“The President didn’t share his reason for your meeting with me, as I’ve already said.”

“Miss St. James—”

“Sir, it’s about time we made our way to conference room one for the early meeting. You know the directors complain if you show up less than fifteen minutes before it starts.” I walked decisively over to his office door and opened it. “You should prioritise the meeting.”

With a sigh, he got up and walked over to me, then held out a navy-blue tie. “I didn’t have time to put it on before I left this morning.”

Wasn’t him getting here on the time the entire reason he’d made me call him a car last night?

I reached up to secure his top button, then murmured an “Excuse me,” as I slipped the tie beneath his crisp shirt collar. I kept my attention firmly on the knot I was tying and secured it before stepping back and averting my gaze.

I could swear he did that on purpose sometimes.

“Thank you.” He adjusted the tie when I opened the door again, then stepped through it. “Let’s go, Miss St. James.”