Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
But offering my jet? Insane, Blackwood. Now, you’re going to be stuck in a tiny jet cabin with the object of your obsession for several hours. I sink into my leather chair, but comfort is a distant memory when I’m busy berating myself for this sudden lapse in judgment. I’m losing the battle with my attraction to her. Who am I kidding? I lost the goddamn battle months ago.
Scarlett is exceptional and the best assistant I’ve ever had, but it’s not something you broadcast in the cutthroat business world where maintaining an upper hand is key. I’m used to being in control, the decision maker, the one with plans and contingencies. But then the curvy little Scarlett walks into the frame, bright, irresistible, and somehow dismantling every piece of my carefully constructed defenses without even trying.
I open my laptop and try to focus on the barrage of emails demanding my attention, but focus is elusive. My mind drifts back to the moment I lost my mind and offered her my jet. I hadn’t anticipated her reaction—how she’d looked at me, first with shock and then with a softness I didn’t expect. It was almost vulnerability, a rare glimpse through her usually vibrant confidence.
Why did I do it? Sure, part of me rationalizes it as a nice gesture for a valued employee. But the truth is, it’s all about her. If she weren’t the woman who imbues my office with warmth and laughter and a bit of chaos I secretly enjoy, I wouldn’t have made the offer.
But who can blame me, really? She’s captivating, not just because she’s stunning but because she’s always one step ahead, always meeting me halfway with wit and capability. Whatever this is has progressed way the fuck past professional admiration, and I’m steadily losing my grip on my feelings.
The truth is, every day is a test of my resolve. The battle between maintaining boundaries and giving in to the temptation of Scarlett is impossible to win. From her infectious laughter echoing down the hallways to the way she turns a simple task into something magically more engaging, my curvy little assistant has caught me, hook, line, and sinker.
To make matters more daunting, I notice her absence if she’s not around. How she manages to make even our briefest interactions memorable is beyond me, and yet, it’s also the reason I'm in this predicament.
I rub my temples, hoping to massage away the tension forming there. Letting feelings bleed into professional territory is dangerous, something I’ve carefully avoided in the past. But Scarlett, with her fiery mane and dazzling confidence, seems to unearth a part of me I didn’t know existed.
Talk about putting the cart before the horse. Offering a ride on my private jet is more than just an olive branch; it's hanging an elaborate banner that says, “Pussy-whipped and loving it.” But the possibility of loving Scarlett is worth destroying every comfortably drawn line I’ve ever established.
I’m in my office, trying to focus on the spreadsheets that demand my attention, but my concentration is cloudy at best. Thoughts of my curvy little assistant flit through my mind like insistent butterflies refusing to be ignored. The offer I’d made yesterday keeps replaying in my head like a record stuck on repeat.
When Scarlett walks in, her presence commands the room as always. Her mane of curly red hair frames her face, drawing attention to those expressive green eyes of hers. Even today, when she looks as if something isn't sitting right with her universe, she seems to carry an innate vibrancy. My heartbeat picks up a notch, aware of her proximity and completely against my better judgment.
She walks over, clutching her tablet to her chest with determination. “Mr. Blackstone,” she begins, the seriousness in her voice catching my attention immediately.
“I thought we’d already decided you should call me Noah.” We didn’t but I figure my offer took us beyond the normal boss/employee relationship. I put aside the spreadsheet—an easier decision than I care to admit.
“Oh.” She bites her juicy bottom lip. “Noah, then, there’s a slight hitch in my Christmas plans.”
An involuntary pulse of concern courses through me. “What happened?”
“I can’t find anyone to watch Minnie, my cat, while I’m away.” Her lips form a resigned half-smile as she shakes her head. “Looks like I might be spending Christmas here after all.”
Well, fucking hell. This throws a wrench in the whole impromptu plan I’ve been unintentionally concocting in my subconscious. The gears of my mind start whirring at full capacity, scrambling for a quick yet plausible solution to prevent her from canceling on me.
Without fully thinking it through, I blurt out, “Why not bring Minnie with us?”
The words hang between us like a banner. Scarlett’s eyes widen as she stares at me silently for several moments.
“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” she asks, tilting her head slightly, her expression both wary and intrigued.