Bound to You: Volume 2 (4 page)

Nicholas has been on a campaign to get me to leave, but I’m not going anywhere. If he thinks he can just get me to quit by treating me like his own personal slave, he’s wrong. Lately, my days have consisted of everything from getting his coffee, cleaning bird shit off his window with a toothbrush, to cleaning the scuffs off his shoe collection. I do it all. I think in his head, he holds some twisted fantasy of having me on my knees. I’ve caught him watching me, and I don’t like it.
Okay, that’s a lie.

“Hey, you must be Rebecca.”

I turn in my cubicle chair just in time to see Ken Phillips standing at the entrance of my cubicle. He stares down at me with his warm honey eyes framed by thick black glasses and a boyish grin.

“Good morning, Ken,” I smile.

“Oh, I’m surprised you recognize me.”

“I saw pictures of you at Carol’s apartment.”

It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says, shaking my hand.

“Thank you for the recommendation. I don’t think I would be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“I just forwarded your name,” he smiles shyly.

“Well, thank you anyway.”

“I’m sure they’re glad to have you.”

“I’m glad to be here.”
Except right now.

Ken frowns at the heaping pile of work on my desk. “You look overwhelmed.” he says, pointing to my desk. “Are you finding everything all right?”

“Oh no, it’s chaotic. I’m pretty sure today is my last day,” I say jokingly.

Ken brushes the back of his neck as if he’s embarrassed. “I’m sorry, is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, don’t worry. I’m just answering e-mails and trying to get some letters out. I’ll manage.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he says with a grin. “When I heard you were hired as Nicholas’s assistant I was a little worried.”

“Oh. Why?”
Does he think I can’t handle the job?

“He has a bad streak with his assistants,” he says.

“Don’t worry, I’m not in danger of falling for Mr. StoneHaven.”

“Just be careful, he can be very charming,” Ken says with a pained expression.

I was anxious to meet Ken when I was first hired on. From everything Carol told me, he was amazing. I mean, he is amazing. He vouched for me without even meeting me, and within a week of submitting my resume I had my interview. If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be here. It’s funny how similar Carol and Ken are in features. But where Carol is lively and outgoing. Ken seems much more calm and reserved. I guess you could say he’s your stereotypical bookworm. In a hot and nerdy sort of way.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that Nicholas is out of the office today until 5:00 p.m.,” Ken says, handing me a note from him. “I ran into him this morning on his way to one of his meetings and he asked me to give you this.”

Pick up dry cleaning. Now.

Xx, Nicholas

A flush creeps up my cheeks.
Perfect. Ken must think I’m sleeping with him already. Who just puts Xs on their notes? He purposely did this to embarrass me.

“He didn’t even put where to get the dry cleaning. There are probably a million dry cleaners in this part of the city,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Here,” Ken says, pulling open a filing cabinet next to my desk. “I’m pretty sure Wendy, his last assistant, kept a list of all of the places Nicholas asked her to go to. Ken retrieves a little black book from a folder and hands it to me.

“Thank you again.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. He also wanted me to tell you that he’d like to meet with you in his office around 6:00 p.m.,” Ken says, as he makes his way out of my cubicle.

Great.
I’m supposed to leave the office at 5:00 p.m., but now he wants me to stay until six?
Ugh.

I knew it was coming, but I’ve been in self-denial about when exactly I would see Nicholas again. Technically, I’m supposed to be like white on rice with him, but it’s hard when he’s always in private meetings.

“So I’m meeting him alone?”

“Well, yes. I’m assuming alone. He didn’t mention anyone else being there,” Ken says, laughing. “His office is on the top floor.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck,” Ken says with an encouraging smile.

At a quarter to six, the building slowly grows quieter as employees trickle out to head home. It’s only Monday, but I’m ready for the weekend to be here already. I pack my belongings and clean up my cubicle. Ken’s desk is empty. The only thing on it is a cup of coffee from this morning. Apparently, he’s M.I.A. because I haven’t seen him since I got back from picking up Nicholas’s suit from the dry cleaners.

As I head to my meeting with Nicholas, I spot Stefan waiting by the reception desk. He’s wearing a tuxedo and sporting a fresh haircut. Nicholas must’ve come out more like his mother because Stefan’s hair, aside from the grey, is dark brown.

“Rebecca, working late?” he asks as I stop to say hello.

“I have a few things to do before heading home and I need to check in with Nicholas.”

“I know I haven’t had a chance to check in with you, but how are you liking things?” The only word that pops into my head is
bizarre
. Stefan smiles, noticing my hesitation.

“This is a great opportunity, Rebecca. I know my son can be a challenge, but he’s a good person. He’s just lost his way.”

“Why did you want me?” I ask.

“I need someone with a good head on their shoulders. It takes a lot of confidence and a little bit of courage to just pick up and move across the country when you’ve lived in LA your whole life. I also think it takes those same two qualities to deal with this job.”

“There was nothing left for me back there.”

He smiles. “Well, I’m hoping you’ll make New York your new home.”

It has to be, because I can’t go back to the sad little life I had back in Los Angeles. I spent most of my days crying over Miles and the relationship that I had so much invested in.

I smile. “I feel at home here.”

“You’re a strong young lady, Rebecca,” he says warmly. “You remind me of my son, Alex. He was very spirited like you.”
Was?
I knew about Nicholas’s sister Emily because Ken had mentioned that she swings by the office sometimes, but he never said anything about Nicholas having a brother.

“Did something happen to him?” I ask.

Stefan smiles sadly. “He passed away in an accident.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s good to remember him. I never understood why Nicholas wanted to bury his memory. As if him dying wasn’t enough of a loss.”

I can’t help but think of my parents in Los Angeles. I don’t know what I’d do without them. I never had any siblings but I always thought having a sister would be kind of cool.

“Well, I better get going. I’m meeting an investor for dinner,” he says, checking his watch.

“Goodnight, Mr. StoneHaven.”

“Goodnight, Rebecca.”

The top level of the building is guarded with an access code. A code that you have to type into the keypad and then have your fingerprint scanned. Each time I make my way up here, it still surprises me that the machine recognizes my fingerprint. I feel like a secret agent on my way to my secret hiding place. The elevator doors usher open, revealing a large office the size of a conference room. My nipples involuntarily pucker as I step out of the elevator. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m not sure if it’s from the cold temperature of the room, or the thought of seeing him again.
I’m going with option A.

This isn’t my first time being up here, but it feels like it. I don’t think I’ve ever stood here long enough to admire my surroundings. The office is decorated with what seems like furnishings for an apartment: a sofa, a bookcase, a desk, and picture frames. Each frame holds photos of Nicholas, a younger girl, and another handsome blond who I can only assume is Alex. There are even a few of Tristan Knight, Nicholas’s best friend who I met at
Riptide.
I walk over to the bookcase centered in the middle of the room. There has to be more than a thousand books here. I trail my fingers over the top row of books and find myself a bit surprised to see so many classic novels – everything from
David Copperfield
to
Sherlock Holmes
. Nicholas doesn’t strike me as the type to be a voracious reader, despite his father’s company.

I turn to find Nicholas watching me from his desk.

“Ms. Gellar, I’m glad to see you here.” I sense a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “There’s something I would like you to do.”

“Of course, anything.”

“The company has our annual gala coming up in January. I need you to submit the insurance documents for the venue, mail the final check payment, and confirm with their event coordinator for the 30th of January. We were going to have it on the 31st but I’m leaving for France that day. Which reminds me. I need you to book my flight.”

“Where is the venue?”

“It’s the Museum of Natural History.”

“Oh. I’m sure that will be incredible.”

“It’s one of the biggest events for our company. Please make sure to confirm for the 30th. I can’t miss this trip.”

“I need to speak with you about the upcoming Lit For Kids event next week.”

“What about it?” he asks, sounding irritated.

“Well I went ahead and accepted the invitation. I saw that you were free that night and they called asking for your presence.”
More like begging.

“Ms. Gellar, I would prefer if you didn’t accept invitations without directly asking me first.”

I stare at the tablet in front of me as I scroll through my work e-mail. Each morning there’s at least fifty new messages that need my attention. For every dent I make, three more e-mails follow. It’s like trying to put out a fire by randomly sprinkling water on it. It does shit. I’m happy that Rebecca has exceeded my expectations by at least organizing this monstrous thing. She’s labeled everything into folders, but it still requires some attention. I don’t know why my last assistant, Wendy, had such a hard time trying to figure out a filter process, but I guess I can’t judge her too harshly. I didn’t exactly hire her because she was good with computers. I hired her because she was good with her mouth. Speaking of mouths…

My mind instantly wanders to the look Rebecca had when her eyes drifted toward the bulge in my pants on her first day on the job. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t already pictured Gellar’s lips wrapped around my cock.
Those lips.
They’re similar to the top half of a heart. Perfectly molded into two sultry plumps just waiting to be bitten and teased into submission. If only Rebecca didn’t drive me bonkers with her fiery spirit. I can’t believe she’d accepted the invitation to the event for Lit For Kids. While I wholeheartedly support the charity and their mission, I don’t even want to think about how hard it’s going to be to be around people who used to know my brother. It’s grueling enough just having to deal with the people at work.

But now, I have no choice. I can’t back out of the event. It would be rude and it wouldn’t look well for the company. I think father would say the positive publicity from the event would help counterbalance some of the recent negativity. People want to know that businesses still care about people. That’s a legacy I can say I proudly want to be a part of.

An e-mail notification pops up at the top of my inbox, pulling me from my distracted thoughts. I cringe at the sight of the name of Katherine Brown, Executive Director at Lit For Kids. I haven’t spoken to her in years. Every year she tries to convince me to attend their donor appreciation event. Most of the time I don’t even reply to her e-mails or her invites through the mail, so I’m surprised it took her this long to send me a message. In fact, I haven’t received any phone calls from her since Rebecca accepted the invite. Perhaps my she-devil of an assistant figured out that taking messages might help her keep her job.

To: Nicholas F. StoneHaven

From: Katherine Brown

Reply: Thank you

Nick,

I’m so happy to hear that you’ll be attending our event. We’ve reserved a front table for you and any guests you may like to bring. It’ll be nice to see you after so long. It’s really been too many years.