Chosen By Him Read online

  “I’ve always been big, not sure why. No other woman in my family is the same size. They’re more like you, small.” I said, gesturing to Megan. I touched a nerve and I enjoyed it.

  “Sorry, that was low,” she said quietly, adjusting her glasses.

  I wish she spoken quietly when she was talking about my breasts!

  “I’m just worried. You know what happened to Emma…” she said, looking at Olivia, who had become silent all of a sudden.

  “What? I wish everyone would stop talking in code about the last secretary–I mean, did he kill her or something?” I released a little laugh, but when they didn’t join in I became nervous.

  “No, don’t be so dramatic. It’s —look, you just started, so I don’t want to scare you. Something happened, no one really knows what. So, just be careful. He’s not a billionaire and a CEO because he’s nice. If he’s ruthless in business, can you imagine what he’s like with women? He must be a monster.”

  I sat there frowning. I’d never met anyone who was rich before. We weren’t a poor family or anything, but the idea of being rich enough to walk into a store and buy anything on the counter was alien to me.

  They were talking about the sort of wealth I had only seen on TV—private jets, mansions, multiple houses. That’s what I thought, anyway. I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to appear stupid or naïve in front of those women.

  I decided to ask Beth when I left work. I met Beth the day I went to the agency and found out about this job. She was busy getting a coffee while taking a break from work. We bumped into each other and she told me about her apartment and that there was a spare room. Just like that, and she was the only friend that I had in the city.

  I was confused if Megan liked me or not. For the first couple of days she was friendly, but today she felt defensive.

  “Okay,” she said with half a smile, “go on, I’m dying to know… what size are you?”

  There became tension at the table. None of us spoke. We just ate, digging into our lunches, which weren’t very appetizing, at least not for me.

  “Sorry?” I muttered, my eyes on my Caesar salad. She was obsessed about my chest.

  She pointed to my breasts.

  “Oh, they’re 30F.”

  “What? You’ve gotta be kidding!”

  Why would I make it up?

  I shrugged in response.

  “Never knew they went up to that cup,” Olivia said innocently.

  “You’re kidding, right? They have sizes up to L.”

  “What? You gotta be kidding!” they both said in unison.

  These women were supposed to be streetwise, but they seemed to be living in the dark ages. I supposed that if you’d never ventured into bigger sizes you remained oblivious to what size other people could be.

  “What are you doing, Olivia?” Megan asked as Olivia fished through her bag.

  “One time I was considering having plastic surgery to get these little babies up a couple of notches. Now I know it’s not an option, but sometimes I buy a double A. I’m not even that….” she said sadly.

  It was my turn to put my hand on her arm.

  “Seriously, Ali, Megan’s just jealous. You’ve got it all going on. Your body is like a perfect 8.”

  “I’m not a size eight.”

  “No, you are shaped like an 8. From the big boobs.” She used her hands to fake-grope her little boobs. “To the big hips and ass. Seriously, I was checking your ass out yesterday, do you have something holding those cheeks up?”

  We all laughed.

  “Yes, it’s my panties!”´

  “They must be some lycra panties, because your butt looks so firm I want to touch it,” she said, poking her finger at my butt. I moved to playfully smack her finger.

  I was starving. I’d run 10k in the morning and hadn’t eaten breakfast afterwards, because I didn’t want to be late. I’d thought I could grab a croissant or something light to eat with my coffee, but then Carson came to the office and I lost my mind. As I nibbled my salad, I wondered why I hadn’t ordered a steak and fries. I had lost my appetite just thinking about him. I felt like a lovesick teenager.

  ***

  He had not left the office since arriving in the morning. Something was going down, but no one was quite sure what. I wasn’t able to see the details of his calendar, only Jackson was. Sometimes I wondered why they hired me. Apparently it was to assist Jackson the personal assistant, which is what Megan and Olivia told me, and that’s just how it felt.

  Jackson’ was a different guy when Mr. Reid wasn’t around. Laidback, talkative, and a flirt. Today, he was a complete stranger. I wasn’t quite sure what to think of him. Mr. Reid had the looks, but as Megan rightly said, he wasn’t wealthy because he was nice.

  “Ali, are you with us?” Olivia asked, her perfect brunette bob slanted to one side.

  “Sorry?”

  “I hope you’re not thinking about him. Seriously, Ali, don’t,” Megan sternly warned me with her hand up in the air.

  Was that jealousy or a friendly warning? The women in the office liked to gossip. In the first three days of working there, I found out who was sleeping with who, and it had been the guys in the office who had told me. Maybe Megan was right, all the unwanted attention I got from the guys in the office wasn’t because they were friendly, but simply because they adored looking at my 30F assets.

  Chapter 3: Central Park

  “So, what do you do on the weekends?”

  “Sorry?”

  I had worked there for three months and, apart from looking at me on the third days—which was officially the first time I met him—he hadn’t taken any notice of me. I was in his office the first time that we had any interaction, and he was asking me a question, which I was really surprised about, because I didn’t think he even knew my name.

  “Sorry, I didn’t meant to pry. I know this is your third month and you’re supposed to be my secretary and we’ve had no communication.”

  “Not sure. I’m still fairly new to the city, so it normally depends on what my roommate ropes me into doing.”

  “Oh, how long?”

  “Sorry?”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Exactly three months, two weeks, and four days. Not that I’m counting!” If they ever said that blonds were complete bimbos, then this whole conversation was proving them right. How many times did he have to ask a question and then I apologize?

  It was hard for me to be there, and if it wasn’t for the money I would have quit. I just couldn’t focus when he spoke to me. The man was delicious with a capital D. Even just being in the room with him I could feel my nipples getting hard. Whenever he was near they seemed to do that, but I could usually subdue them by trying not to focus on him so much.

  That day was different. He was paying attention to me, so my nipples thought he was paying attention to them.

  Damn you, nipples.

  He didn’t even hide the fact that he was staring at them. “Is it cold in here?” he asked.

  No, you just make me damn horny.

  I felt myself going red. This wasn’t going to work.

  I moved to get up from my chair, knowing he could tell that I was completely embarrassed. I felt like the walls were closing in. I felt like a lost little child.

  I needed to leave. I was just being tormented. He started to lift his hand up, as if to tell me I shouldn’t leave. “Sorry, I was wondering if you weren’t doing anything, if we could go for a drink or something?”

  I spun my head around and looked around the office.

  Seriously, was he talking to me?

  He smiled and laughed. “Yes, I’m talking to you.”

  Was I speaking out loud or was this man reading my mind? Maybe what I was thinking was obvious?

  “So?”

  “No, the temperature is fine in here….my…they’re a bit excited.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. I bit my lip.

  He was talking
about the drink. Not your nipples, woman. Get a grip.

  “I can see you feel uncomfortable about it, it’s just that I like to know my staff better. Especially the ones that are working directly for me.”

  That wasn’t what I’d heard. He was giving me special treatment. Thank goodness Megan wasn’t around to hear our conversation. She would have had a field day going on and on about it.

  I had asked a few people in the office about Emma, the girl who’d been Carson’s secretary before me, and they said that one day she just left. There was a rumor that she had a thing for Carson so he sacked her, but that information came from one source, and she wasn’t reliable. She was always telling me that her husband was cheating on her, going to the trouble to spy on him in their house via a webcam. She was nuts. I told her to just come out and ask him straight–she told me that was silly, but clearly didn’t think that secret webcams were silly. It’s people like her that make people in Montezuma say that New Yorkers are crazy.

  “OK, so I think we’re done here then.” He sounded disappointed and dismissive, waving his hand in the air. He loved signaling with his hands. I’d seen him do it a few times with Jackson. Sometimes I wondered if they had some sort of secret language. They spoke in code that no one could interpret.

  “No, I would love to. Let me grab my coat, log off, and freshen up a bit.” That’s what I said, but what I meant was that I needed to cover up my nipples and preserve my dignity, or what remained of it.

  He smiled with his deep and delicious bottom lip. He stood up and held out his hand to lead the way. I wanted to run my hands through his hair instead of him using his other hand to do it. I thought I was beginning to sense nerves. I had seen him do it a couple of times in the past.

  I stood and looked at him for a moment. He really was different from any man I had ever met. I loved his suits. He was in his blue wool suit, with a dark blue tie and a light blue shirt. I wasn’t sure, but I thought it was an Armani. John never wore a suit, it was all about the jeans. No one in my family wore suits either. In the office, everyone was always in a typical black or blue suit.

  I turned away from him, otherwise I was going to end up clearing off his desk, lying down on it, and begging him to take me. I really needed to put cold water on my face. I understood what they meant when they said female animals were in heat. I was definitely in heat. I wasn’t sure how much I could stand, especially when the man I fantasized about every night wanted to take me out for a drink.

  I’d always had a problem keeping my mouth shut when I’d had a bit to drink. So, I tended to drink a glass of water or a coke in-between alcoholic drinks. I also made sure I have something to nibble, just to keep myself sober.

  Don’t get drunk, I recited to myself over and over again as I made my way to the bathroom.

  ***

  We stood by the elevator waiting for it to come up to our floor.

  Damn, they were so slow.

  I was heating up with his body heat so close to mine as we waited.

  “Where are we going?” I asked to try and break the ice. The sexual tension was driving me mad. Or maybe it was all in my head?

  “My, we’re a bit impatient, aren't we?”

  You have no idea, you really have no idea.

  I began to pace up and down.

  “Maybe this isn’t a good idea…”

  “Why?”

  “You just seem so uncomfortable.”

  He was right. I was. I wanted to get in the elevator and fuck him like there was no tomorrow. And this was coming from a woman who had only slept with one man and had very limited sexual knowledge. But, the way my nipples were hard and the wetness between my legs, I was prepared to learn.

  Why did he have to be so sexy? I mean, billionaires were supposed to be big men with big stomachs and no hair. This man was the opposite. He could have been on the cover of GQ, instead of waiting to get into an elevator with me.

  “Or do you want me to press the button?” he asked as he reached over, brushing his arm over my breasts. My erect nipples stretched out even more, forcing their way through the material. I had stuffed tissue down there, but it clearly wasn’t working.

  We stared at each other and he moved closer. I felt his breath on my neck and it made my hairs stand on end. I could feel every part of me moving. The heat between us was getting intense, until the elevator arrived and the doors opened, exposing someone standing there. We were both startled and looked away, trying to appear innocent. There was a smirk on his face as he moved to the side of the elevator. I’d never met him before, and I’m not sure if Carson had either, because his expression was guarded.

  “Good evening, seems like I’m not the only one working late on a Friday.”

  “Tight deadlines, Ethan, especially month end.”

  Carson did know him. I wouldn’t have been able to tell if he hadn’t spoken to him.

  “See you next week and have a good weekend, Mr. Reid. You too, Ms. Clark.”

  I replied in kind, but the only thing on my mind was how the hell did he know who I was? Silly question, the office could talk. Gossip was like a religion there. I found out about Peter from the mail room’s love life and all the women he had slept with on my second day, after he made the mistake of slipping me his phone number in front of Betty. Betty knew everyone’s business in chronological order.

  Megan told me one day that Bizzy Betty had the same information on all the offices worldwide. I wasn’t clear if that was a joke or not, but I could believe it.

  “Earth to Ali, are you with me again or somewhere else?”

  “Sorry?”

  I followed him down the hallway and out of the building. He was signaling the security guards and addressing me at the same time.

  “Whenever your mind wanders, you start to play with this imaginary string of hair. I think it is a way to combat your nervousness.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I watch you sometimes from the office. I can see you but you can’t see me. No one can. At your desk, or when you talk to others, you never do it. Only when you speak to me.”

  Damn, he was good.

  I blushed as I looked deep into his eyes and thought, if only you knew exactly what you do to me when I’m around you. I began to open my mouth, to tell him that he did make me nervous. I thought I might as well be honest, but as the words tried to leave my mouth we were disturbed by Richard, his driver. “Your car’s here, ready and waiting, sir.”

  “Why do we need a car? I thought we were going for a drink?”

  “We are, but it’s no ordinary drink.”

  He led me out of the building with one hand behind my back for a brief second. Was it so wrong to wish that hand was a bit lower? He was being a gentleman, and all that was going through my mind were dirty thoughts. I smiled as I thought about it.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I walked faster. That was one confession I wasn’t about to make in a hurry.

  ***

  “Wow, so we’re leaving the city?”

  “Not quite.”

  I looked out of the limo like an excited teenager going on an adventure. I felt relaxed and, in-between his emergency calls after a couple of glasses of champagne, I released my hair from its tight bun. I knew he was watching me as I loosened it and swung my head from left to right. I tried to make myself not feel that I was in a work situation so that those damn nipples would behave themselves.

  I could see that what Megan said was true, you didn’t get to this level of business without being ruthless. He seemed to be everywhere and in everything. I wondered if he was a bit too pedantic and wanted to try and control too much.

  “Do you ever sleep?” I blurted out.

  “Of course I sleep. Why do you ask such a question?” he sighed as he continued to work on his iPad.

  “You have hands and eyes on every part of the business. It’s an international business, so the only way you can do that is if you don’t sleep, with all the tim
e differences.”

  He rolled his eyes and looked at me, as if he was studying me for the first time. Was he surprised by my observation or did he find it pathetic? I couldn’t tell. “That’s very astute of you, Ms. Clark, but I must disappoint to inform you that I do sleep. A man of my stature has to be everywhere; otherwise people take you for granted.”

  “But, is it worth the stress?”

  He turned his head away and didn’t face me as he answered. It was like I had touched a nerve asking such a question. He totally avoided it and replied, “We’re approaching--you’re not looking out of the window.”

  Of course I wasn’t. I was having an intellectual conversation with the most beautiful man I had ever met. Why would I want to be distracted?

  Damn, now his eyes looked brown to me. I just couldn’t work them out.

  “What color are your eyes?”

  “Funny, no one has ever been bold enough to ask me. I can tell by the way people look at them that they are thinking the same thing. What color are your eyes? What color do you think they are?”

  I took a deep breath. I needed to respond without looking like I’d been studying him. Then again, I wanted to find the truth, and he was not going to make it easy for me. “Okay, so when we first met, I thought they were hazel. But there are times when you have walked past and smiled that they seem green. Other times, like now in the dark, they seem brown.”

  “That’s because your first assumption was correct,” he said with a smile.

  Was he smiling because I revealed that I was taking note of the color of his eyes, or because I had come up with the correct answer?

  “Interesting, never met anyone with eyes like that…”

  “What? You were mumbling. I couldn’t hear you. You do know that’s rude, don’t you?”

  I knew it was rude. But I didn’t have the confidence to say what I thought most of the time, so I mumbled instead. The problem was I hoped he hadn’t heard me. He seemed to have ears like an owl. His smile widened as I revealed my thoughts.

  The door sprang open. I was so lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t even realized that the car had stopped or that he had the door open and was waiting for me to get out.