Page 20 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

"I don’t know... could be that Ocean Bay would still be the same small town it was when I left. But this" I gesture to the building: “this is something else."

Nate shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but I can tell by the slight puff of his chest that he’s proud of what he’s built here.

"Things change," he says before opening the door and stepping out.

I follow him inside, trying to keep up as he moves through the lobby with purpose. The staff greets him as we pass by, offering polite "good mornings" that he returns with curt nods. He’s efficient, no-nonsense, the epitome of professionalism, and yet there’s something about the way he carries himself that’s... magnetic.

We reach his office, and I’m once again struck by how sleek everything is. It’s not too big, but it’s definitely a statement. There are modern furnishings, floor-to-ceiling windows that let in a flood of natural light, and an air of quiet authority. Everything about it screams Nate Kingston.

"This is your office," he says, motioning to a door across from his. I step inside, taking in the space. It’s smaller, obviously, but it’s cozy and well-organized. I have a large desk, a computer already set up, and shelves lining the walls except for on the wall of floor to ceiling glass.

"Wow," I say again, genuinely impressed. "This is... so nice."

Nate nods, as if to say, I know, before disappearing into his own office. I smile to myself, shaking my head. Of course he doesn’t need validation—he’s Nate. But as I settle into my chair, I can’t help but feel a surge of excitement. This job might be exactly what I need.

He makes a telephone call and directs me downstairs to meet with his HR manager. After that housework is complete, I get a cursory orientation to the building and the IT system. Like Nate, his team is professional and direct, and I begin to feel at home in, this, his “other” home.

By ten I’m back upstairs and dive into the work, going through emails, reviewing and organizing his schedule and familiarizing myself with his contacts. Despite Nate’s distant demeanor, I find myself enjoying the dynamic.

There’s something oddly fulfilling about being his assistant (Not secretary, I think.). I can keep everything in order while he focuses on whatever deal or project he’s working on.

Hours pass, and I lose myself in the rhythm of it all. Nate hardly speaks to me beyond the necessary instructions, but I don’t mind. His presence is enough to keep me on my toes. And I can’t deny that there’s a strange satisfaction in knowing I’m helping him—making his life easier, even in small ways.

At some point, he steps out of his office and catches me mid-task, his eyes scanning the room.

"How’s everything going?" he asks, his tone clipped but not unkind.

"Great," I say, leaning back in my chair with a smile. "Actually, better than I expected."

He nods, a flicker of something—maybe approval? — before he turns back to his office. I watch him go, my heart doing a strange little flip-flop in my chest.

***

I sit at the far end of the long, polished conference table, a pen in hand and a notepad in front of me. Today marks two days since I started working for Nate, and so far, it’s been… seamless. Very seamless, in fact. Nate, for all his gruffness, is an efficient and commanding leader. And I’m seeing that firsthand during this board meeting.

The atmosphere in the room is serious. But Nate, at the head of the table, leans back in his chair. He commands attention without trying. His presence is undeniable. He’s not the grumpy, closed-off Nate I’ve seen at home, nor the doting father he is with Max. No, here he’s different. Composed and completely in control.

Across the table, one of the board members, a man who seems hell-bent on challenging Nate, leans forward. His name is Peter Walters, and from what I can tell, he doesn’t like Nate one bit. Every time Nate speaks, Peter’s lips purse like he’s waiting for an opportunity to strike.

“And what about the Northgate deal?” Peter says, his voice laced with accusation. “You lost one of our most valuable properties to a competitor. Care to explain how you let that slip through your fingers?”

I hold my breath, glancing toward Nate. Everyone else in the room is watching him too, waiting for his response. His face doesn’t change—there’s no flinch, no hint of unease. Nate simply steeples his fingers in front of him and stares Peter down with a calm, unyielding gaze.

“The person responsible for the leak,” Nate begins, his voice cool, "is already in custody."

There’s a slight murmur around the table, but Peter doesn’t back down.

“And the damage? We have lost that deal for good, Nate. You can’t just sweep that under the rug.”

Nate leans forward now, placing his hands flat on the table, his tone sharpening.

“I’m not sweeping anything under the rug, Peter. I’ve already lined up better options. But if you’d like to challenge that, feel free to bring something better to the table.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, but Nate doesn’t falter. His confidence radiates through the room, silencing any further protests. He glances around the table, ensure everyone understands that this conversation is over. The other board members seem content with his answer. Even Peter settles back in his chair, reluctantly conceding defeat.

I can’t help but admire the way Nate handled the situation. The authority in his voice, the ease with which he navigated thetension in the room—it’s a side of him I hadn’t seen before. This is Nate Kingston, CEO. He's not the grumpy Nate I’ve gotten used to at home, but a man who commands respect without effort.

It takes everything in me to focus on my notetaking, because my mind keeps wandering. Watching him in this environment... it’s hard not to feel something. Attraction. It lingers there, beneath the surface, making it harder for me to focus on writing down the minutes.

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