Billionaire Romance: Spencer's Obsession (A Seductive Alpha Billionaire Romance Book 1) (3 page)

             
The weekend had flown by and before I knew it it was Monday morning—my first day as Spencer Ford’s assistant. As I got ready, I was grateful that Bridget had helped me put together my first week's worth of outfits the night before, just to make sure I didn't commit any major crimes of fashion. This was just one of the
many
perks of having a fashion design major as your roommate. 

              Bridget and I had met our freshman year at CCU and became really close friends, despite our differences. After freshman year, though, Bridge decided that her true calling was fashion and so she left Crystal Cove U and enrolled at the Fashion Institute of Design a town over. Her parents ended up paying the rent on a really big (and
really expensive
) town home right between both campuses. Obviously I was bummed that my best friend was moving off campus and going to a different school, but when she asked me to move in with her, I of course said yes. As they say, “The rest is history.” We've been roommates ever since.

              Another unexpected perk of living with Bridget was that I didn't have to pay rent. Her parents had told me that since they would've been footing the entire bill before anyhow, they didn't think it was fair to charge me any rent. If anything, they said, it would be a way to ensure that Bridget stayed in school ,which was payment enough for them. Obviously I was overjoyed by this since my parents definitely couldn't afford to help me out and I hadn't been able to get a job up until this point because of my studies.

              Sometimes I felt guilty, but Bridge's parents were always quick to reassure me that they were happy to do it—after all, I was their “second daughter” at this point. That always made me smile and made my parents feel a little better about me being so far from home. Often, during shorter breaks and holidays like Thanksgiving I would spend it with Bridget's family in LA, since it was too expensive to buy a plane ticket home for such a short trip.

              I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was wearing a white button-down deep-v top, tucked into a black, just-above-the-knee pencil skirt. Both of which were form fitting and showed off my curves in all the right places—tastefully, of course. We had paired the outfit with some simple, yet sexy black high-heeled pumps that showcased my lean legs. Bridget had said they were one of my best assets,
So why not show them off?

              I wasn't quite sure what to do with my long, unruly brunette locks, but I finally settled on a sleek, low style bun at the base of my neck to ensure that it stayed out of my way throughout the day. I definitely wanted my first day at the office to be as stress-free as possible and that included my hairstyle.

              After applying my makeup, I grabbed my tailored black blazer (in case I got cold) and my handbag and gave myself a once over in the full-length mirror by our entryway. I hardly recognized myself, I was so well-put-together.                             Generally, my style could be described as nerdy chic, so I was surprised by the difference that some new clothes, makeup and actually styling my hair could make.

              I grabbed my keys and took a deep breath before opening the door. There was no turning back now.

*****

              On the drive to work I couldn't help but feel a little nervous for my first day at Ford Enterprises. Okay, a
lot
nervous. I mean, after all, Spencer was my new boss and I already had a huge crush on him that I was trying to push aside. Especially after the unsettling dream I'd had about him, on top of the fact that I was currently engaged! I didn't know how I was going to break it to him, but I knew I had to—before things got too serious and there was no turning back. On the other hand, I felt like really the person I should be coming clean to, was John. I didn't want to hurt him, but he needed to know how I really felt about the whole engagement thing and that I just wasn't ready for marriage. At least not with him. But maybe I'd leave that last part out.

              John had called me Saturday night before I went to bed to see what the verdict was about my internship and as I drove to work the conversation re-played over and over in my mind.

             
“Hey babe, how'd the interview go?” John asked excitedly.

              “It was good, actually. I was offered the job,” I said with a small smile.

              “Well, duh! I knew you would be. I mean, how could they meet you and not fall in love with you?” he laughed, “And I'm not just saying that because I'm your fiancé.”

              “Yeah, you probably are,” I responded a little too sharply. God this was excruciatingly awkward. I felt like I was betraying Spencer, not John.

              “So what's your new boss like? Or did you get to meet them?” he inquired, genuinely interested and seemingly un-phased by my edgy tone.

              “Uh...yeah, he's actually the one who did the interview. And he seems...cool, I guess,” I said nonchalantly, trying to be as casual as possible

              “Wow. He did the interview himself? I figured he'd have some kind of HR team to delegate to since he's probably so busy, you know, running the company,” he said, sounding a little wary.

              “Yeah, I was surprised, too. I actually asked about it and apparently he's a control freak. He said normally he doesn't do the interviews, but when it comes to his assistants he’s decided to be more hands-on in the process since they deal with so much of his personal space. He wants to make sure the person hired is a really good fit,” I said, trying to push down the feeling of giddiness that was building up inside of me. I couldn't help but feel special. I was who Spencer had chosen out of all the other applicants—before even meeting anyone else. I smiled to myself, biting my lip as I recalled the sexy dream I'd had the night before.

              “I see. Well, I'm really happy for you, babe,” he said cautiously.

              Even though I knew he was genuinely happy for me, I could tell he was trying to hide his disappointment that I wouldn't be coming home to Illinois to spend the summer with him. He said he was anxious to start planning the details of our wedding and our new life together. I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't. I just let the silence speak for itself.

              After a minute or so I finally said, “Well, I better get off here and get some rest. It's getting late.”

              “Yeah, yeah. Me too, I suppose. Hey Em?”

              I could hear the implications of the question already, dreading what was about to happen.

              “Yeah, John?” I asked, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

              “I love you more than anything, Em.”

              I didn't know what to say, feeling like I'd already dug myself a hole I couldn't get out of. I replied, “I know...” and before I could stop myself, I added, “me too.” I realized my mistake before the words had even completely left my mouth, but I couldn't help it. I felt like I owed him something. A part of me—the sick part—knew that if I didn't say that, then the game was over and I'd have to confess my real feelings and hurt him and I just...really didn't want to do that. He didn't deserve that. He really was a good guy and I knew that most girls would kill to be in my situation: engaged to a devoted man that only wanted to profess his love in front of the entire world.

              But honestly, I didn't want that. I wasn't ready for it. I had only ever dated John since middle school and there was so much left of the world to see and experience. Call me cruel, but I just wanted to see what more the world had to offer and I needed to do that without
him
. But I had no idea how to tell him that, so instead of saying any of those things, I simply said, “Good night.”

              “Night sweetheart. Sleep well. And if I don't talk to you before Monday, good luck on your first day, okay? I'll be thinking of you.” He made a kissing noise into the phone. I cringed at how over-the-top sweet he was and then immediately felt bad for thinking such a thing.

             
I ended the call before I had a chance to make up any more ridiculous lies to tell him and fell asleep that night wracked with guilt and confusion about the decision I would soon have to make.

              I stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor—42—this was the floor Spencer had instructed me to meet him at on my first day at the office. During my interview he had stated that my workspace would basically be “his” workspace, since his assistant would need to work closely with him and be available at all times.

              As a reminder, he had emailed me yesterday evening all the instructions I would need for parking, what time and where to meet him and how to get to his office. I was thankful because it had been a lot of information to take in during the interview and I wasn't sure I would be able to remember it all. The last thing I wanted was to be late on my first day. He definitely didn't seem like the type of man who liked to be kept waiting.

              So, here I was right on time at 8 a.m. sharp, per his instructions. As the elevator doors opened up to the 42nd floor, the first thing I noticed was how dimly lit it was. So much so that I started to wonder if maybe I had the wrong floor. After all, I didn't see anyone around and it felt eerily vacant. I reached into my purse and grabbed the slip of paper I had printed off this morning that had the instructions, thinking I had to be in the wrong place. But no...right there in his email it clearly stated: “
Take the elevator up to the 42nd floor.
”

              I stepped out, hesitant. My heart started to race as the doors closed shut behind me and the elevator began its descent back down to the bottom floor. As I looked around at my surroundings I noticed that this floor was unlike the other few floors I had toured during my interview on Friday. Not only was there no commercial lighting in the entrance from the elevator, but there was no reception area. Not to mention there was no sign of life anywhere, least of all, Spencer.
Weird.

              In fact, I didn't hear anything but the faint sounds of some piano music. I listened closely, following the sound down the hallway. As I began to move, my heels clacked on the marble flooring and I made an effort to walk as quietly as possible. I wasn't sure why, but I felt like I was going to disturb the natural order of the environment I was encroaching upon and wanted to be as mouse-like as possible. I imagined this is how Belle felt in
Beauty and the Beast
when she first entered the Beast's castle. Not that Spencer was a beast or anything—far from it.

              I noticed that both sides of the hallway were mirrored just like on the other floors and I wondered what was  behind all of these doors, considering it didn't seem like anyone else worked up here.
Maybe it was used for overflow or storage or something,
I thought.
Or as a serial killer's secret lair,
the irrational part of my brain offered.

              As I got closer to the music, I still couldn't pinpoint exactly where it was coming from so I called out, “Hello?” I waited for a response, but there was nothing. “Hello?” I said again, louder. I heard the music cut off suddenly and then out of nowhere, the door at the end of the hallway flung open and there stood Spencer. He was dressed incredibly well, of course, in a dark gray tailored suit that looked super pricey. His smile lit up the darkened hallway and sunlight flooded out from the office behind him.
Okay, so maybe this wasn't a killing chamber after all.

              “Emily Anne,” he said warmly, stepping out to greet me in the hallway. “Please, come in,” he motioned for me to follow him into his office.

              As I walked briskly to catch up, my heels clacked against the marble again, but much louder now that the music had been silenced. I felt his eyes lock onto my body and suddenly I felt self-conscious. All of the nice things I had thought about my appearance as I stood in front of the mirror this morning before leaving the house vanished from my mind. Now, all I could think about was whether or not I looked like a hot mess or if Spencer was liking what he saw. Maybe I shouldn't have chosen this top. Was it too revealing for my body type? But as I got to the doorway of his office and stepped inside, I could feel his eyes burning into my back and it gave a me a little confidence boost.

              I heard Spencer make an approving, “Mmm,” involuntarily under his breath.

              This gave me a rush as I remembered the x-rated dream I had had about the two of us. I laughed nervously and turned to look at him, “Is everything okay?” I asked with a stiff smile.

              “Oh, yes. Everything is amazing. I mean, you look gorgeous. How did I get so lucky to have such a beautiful ass-istant?” he asked playfully.

              “Well, you almost didn't. When I got up here I was about to turn right back around. I thought I was stepping into Jeffrey Dahmer's lair or something,” I grimaced.

              “What? You don't like the ambience up here?” he teased, feigning offense.

              “I much prefer the ambience in your office. Not so much the lobby or the hallway. You know, you could make it a
little
more inviting. Why is it so dark up here, anyway?” I asked, more than a little curious. I mean, after all it didn't fit the feel of the rest of the building.

              “This is my hideout up here,” he said as he guided me over to a smaller version of the glass conference table from my interview. Up here, the view was even more breathtaking and a gasp escaped my lips. I could see tall cliffs overlooking the ocean in the distance and it reminded me of my view from my dorm on campus when I was a freshman.

              Spencer smiled and said, “Amazing, isn't it?” He continued, “Not many people get invited up here. Most of my meetings and things take place in other parts of the building so I can keep it how I like it up here. I prefer not to be bombarded with so much artificial light first thing in the morning. But I assure you, I can brighten things up a bit if that suits you better. Please,” he motioned to the chair in front of me, “sit.” I did as he commanded.

              Spencer nodded to a brand new smart phone lying on the table in front of me and said, “Oh, before I forget: that's your company cellphone. It's to ensure that I'm able to get in contact with you at all times,” he stated, a serious look on his face.

              “Oh, thank you. Of course,” I nodded, reaching forward and depositing it into my purse without a second thought.“So…are you the only one who works up on this floor?” I inquired.

              “Just me. And well, now
you,
” he replied, staring intently at me.

              My heart skipped a beat, but then sank just as quickly. How was I going to keep Spencer and I's relationship strictly professional if I was going to be alone with him all day, every day unsupervised. After all, I barely even knew him and he was already vocalizing his admiration of my body and flirting so openly. Not to say that I didn't like it, or heck even
want
it, but I had to remind myself that I was not a single woman. Even if I had told Spencer as much.

              “Oh. Wow. Just the two of us, huh?” I asked nervously.

              “Yes, is something wrong? I mean, like I said I have no problems making it a bit brighter up here if that suits you. And you'll have your very own office. I won't make you share,” he winked.

              “My own office?” I smiled. He had won me over already.

              “Of course. I've got
some
manners, Miss Emily Anne,” he grinned at me, “whether you wish you to believe it or not. Come,” he gestured as he stood up, “I'll show you where I want you.”

              I blushed as I got up and followed Spencer, anticipating that we'd be going out into the hallway to another entrance. So, needless to say, I was taken aback when he crossed the long width of his expansive office, only to open a sliding glass door on the other side of the room. The entire right side of his office was a wall of see-through glass that exposed a neat, modern office space semi-separate from his own. I remembered noticing it when I first walked in, but never in a million years did I imagine that it would be where
my
work station would be.  I felt unsettled as I stood, frozen in the middle of the room, Spencer holding the door to the office open, waiting for me.

              “What's wrong,” he asked with a look of concern on his face. “Do you not like it?”

              “No, it's not that,” I suddenly remembered that I had vowed to confess everything to Spencer and come clean about my engagement. “Everything is beautiful here. It's just...” I trailed off, unsure of how to express my unease. I needed to tread lightly, but I didn't really want to come clean at all. 

              “Just what,” he snapped, suddenly irritated. His change in attitude was shocking because, up until this point, he had seemed so well-tempered and kind—nothing like this.

              “Well, I just thought that it would be a little more private. That's all,” I replied softly as I crossed my arms over my chest. I felt shivers run over my body as Spencer stared me down. A darkness had come over him, something I hadn't witnessed until now, but just as quickly as it had appeared it faded away again. He shook his head and a wave of compassion seemed to wash over him, softening his features immediately, snapping him out of whatever dark state he had been in before.

              “Oh, sweet Emily,” he sighed as he let go of the door and walked back over to me. He placed both of his strong, warm palms on the tops of my shoulders and leaned down to look into my eyes—a gesture that reminded me of my dad, back home in Illinois. “I'm sorry if this is all a bit much for you on your first day. I guess I should have explained the position better during the interview, but I was sure you understood,” he said, a look of concern in his eyes as he stared at me, waiting for me to catch up to what he was saying.

              When Spencer finally realized I had no clue what he was talking about, he hung his head in shame.

              “What do you mean? Understood what?” I blurted out as my breathing became more labored and I started to feel uncomfortable again.

              “Emily, I don't know how else to say this, but...I hired you to be at my disposal. In whatever way that I choose. I'm not trying to be blunt or harsh, but I really thought you knew what the position was for,” he admitted sheepishly as he ran his right hand through his light brown locks, his brows furrowed in concern, analyzing my reaction.

              I gasped and immediately took several steps back from him, distancing myself. “Wait...do you mean...sexually?” I asked, blindsided. “There's no way you're being serious with me right now. You can't be...” but that's when it all started to sink in: the details of the job posting, the questions during the interview, how forward he'd been, the fact that he'd conducted the interview himself, the weirdly worded non-disclosure agreement I'd had to sign. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but it all made sense now.

             
Of course.
How stupid could I have been?
I mean, yes, the job posting had said something along the lines of 'Must be very open minded and willing to try new things,' but that's definitely not the kind of “open minded” I thought he had meant.
Oh, my gosh.
No wonder the position paid so well...

              “Spencer, I don't even...know what to say to you right now. I mean, is this all a joke to you?”

              “Of course not, Emily. I go to great lengths to pick the right girl for the job and I thought you were the one. I'm sorry if it wasn't clear enough to you, but legally speaking I can't just put out a job posting that says, 'CEO of Ford Enterprises Seeking Secretary With Benefits' –what would people think?  I tried to make it as clear as possible in the interview. I thought we were on the same page,” Spencer lamented. “Why do you think I asked if you were single and would consent to a STD test?”

              Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach. “So basically what you're telling me right now is that you hired me to be your glorified personal prostitute,” I spat, feeling angrier by the minute.

              “No. God, no. It’s not like that at all, darling. It’s not just about the sex, at least not anymore. Look, Emily...I'm truly sorry if you feel like I've taken advantage of, or misled you in any way. That was never my intention. And I wouldn't say that I hired you to be my personal prostitute. I want your company, that’s all. And we can take it from there—no pressure. Honestly, you're the first hire that I've ever felt this strongly about,” Spencer admitted, staring into my eyes, begging me to forgive him.

              I hung my head, unable to meet his gaze. “...there have been others?” I whispered, feeling more sick to my stomach by the minute.

              “A few, yes, but it’s never seemed to work out,” he explained, sadness in his voice. “I've never been able to find someone that I can connect with on a deeper level. And forgive me if I'm being too forward or going too fast, but I think I've found that with you. It's not just about the sex, Emily, I swear.”

              “Spencer, you don't even really know me! You have no idea who I am or am not. You're just attracted to the
idea
of me—the idea of bending me over your desk and fucking me. And I'm sorry, but I can't be a prostitute. No matter how good it pays,” I scoffed, feeling disgusted and dirty and taken advantage of. “I have to go. I can't do this,” I shook my head in disbelief and stepped away from him, then I turned quickly on my heel and ran out of his office, down the long hallway back to the elevator that I had arrived in.