Page 61 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

ACE

Aknock at my office door jolted me.

“Come in,” I barked, irritated.

“It’s meee, sir. Good old Mrs. Mills,” she said enthusiastically. “Sorry to disturb, well, you’re used to that by now, are you not? But I thought this would be less intrusive than calling you.”

“Why would you think that?” I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to keep a gradually building headache at bay.

“Truth is, I just had to get up and walk a little, you know, to avoid neck stiffness and muscle cramps in my legs. I’m not the beautiful young woman I once was anymore. Folks might disagree.” She laughed. “Sorry, sir, I’m getting off topic,” she added, without sounding sorry at all. “I’ve got a Mr. Ecclestone on the line for you. He says it’s urgent. Can I put him through?”

Ecclestone?

“No,” I growled. “I don’t have time.”

“Yes, sir. But it seems urgent. He keeps calling. Glenda says it is the fourth time he’s asked to speak to you this week—”

“Send him to voicemail,” I said gruffly. “I’m heading out to meet with a few investors. I doubt I’ll be back before the end of the day. You can tell him that too, if you think it’ll stop him from calling.”

“All right, sir. I’ll do that. When will you be back?”

“Probably not until tomorrow.”

“Very well, sir. Is there anything I can do for you before you leave?” she asked, holding her hands behind her back like a sergeant on patrol.

“When my assistant returns with Mr. Hardy’s files, inform her that I’m leaving a note for her on my desk. Ah, and Mrs. Mills? How was your daughter’s wedding?”

She looked at me over the rim of her glasses. “Thank you for asking, sir. It was entertaining, I can say that much. But telling you everything would take up too much of your schedule.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Mills.”

“It’s a pleasure, sir. Enjoy your meetings. Cheriooo.” She backed out of my office. I could hear her shuffling footsteps slowly fading to her reception desk.

I did have two more meetings lined up, which was a good thing. I didn’t trust myself to stay in the same building as Stella Copeland for the rest of the day without trying to recreate our encounter. No. I had to get out of here before I did something I would regret. No matter what, I couldn’t have her.

My thoughts were interrupted by one blink of my voicemail’s pickup. I played it back. “Mr. Windsor, this is Edmund Ecclestone speaking.” There was a unique quality to his calm, rusty voice, which vibrated with a French accent. “I’d like to talk to you. Please call me back at your earliest convenience.”

Getting up from my chair, I walked over to a filing cabinet next to the balcony’s door, retrieved a stack of forms and information requests, and strolled back to my desk. I placed the pile of papers on my desk, forming a wobbling tower, and scribbled a quick note to Stella.

How could I have let myself lose control like that? No woman had ever had that effect on me.

I left the office building. My facial expression must have reflected my mood, because not a soul spoke to me.

The interior of my brand-new blue Aventador was a welcome reprieve. The Lamborghini dealership had dropped it off at the office that very morning. I was glad to be rid of the Sián. It had been nothing but a reminder of Allison. I melted into the Aventador’s smooth leather driver’s seat. Its engine came to life, roaring just as loudly as a sports car of that caliber should, but indefinably warmer, livelier than the Sián.

25

STELLA

Ispent the rest of the morning helping Mr. Hardy draw up the blueprints that Ace expected from him. Working with him was a pleasant experience, and we were done in no time.

Having finished the job earlier than expected, I had time for a quick side tour to the archive room to check if I could find anything related to Ecclestone Construction. My search resulted in zero finds, and secretly I was relieved. Immediately afterward, as promised, I called Bonnie and filled her in—with all the embarrassing details that I’d found myself in.

I started with my meeting with my brother Damon and what he’d asked me to do. My tale of woe was wrapped up with a recounting of us having lunch at the Coq—Bonnie thought it was beyond hilarious and asked me if I’d had the “Coq Special” (almost!). I continued with what had happened on the helicopter, with the creepy delivery man the previous Friday, and my “encounter” with Ace in the supply room earlier in the day.

“Girl, I can’t believe he almost spanked you, but okay, carry on.”

“I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. My brother wants me to snoop on Ace…and after I saw that classified ‘E.C.’ file with him, I’m starting to worry that he might be right about Ace being up to no good. Especially after hearing about all the crazy mishaps during the move: missing files, shredded papers, lost boxes…”

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