Scandal: A BAD BOY Romance Novel (4 page)

The way he was looking at me made my skin break out in goosebumps and sizzle at the same time. It was in a way I had never dreamed of being looked at. His eyes had a sleepy look to them, and he was just watching me, waiting for my response.
Am I imagining things, or is he moving closer towards me?
He was so close I could smell him; he smelled clean and woody at the same time. I breathed in deeply, biting my lip and asking myself what I'm doing.

"Natalie," he crooned, lowering his face towards mine.

I parted my lips after licking them, ready for this moment I'd denied myself in my fantasies. More than anything, I was ready to finally taste his lips, to take what he'd been suggestive about since the day we met. Now, he was proving my suspicions to me, and I was ready to embrace it. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or if it was my judgment on Asher's true character, but I felt absolutely no fear around him. My eyes fluttered shut as I waited for him to kiss me.

"Natalie," he murmured again, so close that I could have sworn his lips brushed against mine. "Just so you know... I fired Paisley today."

I could see Stacey glaring at us from our table. Everyone had turned to face us. When I made eye contact with Clara, she looked confused and mouthed 'What's going on?' I looked away from them, turning my attention back to this information Asher was giving me.
Paisley was fired?
I thought, stunned. How had Asher pulled off getting rid of his PR escort?
Did he fire her for not sleeping with him?
I felt doubly sick now. For one, I had no idea what to feel or do--without Paisley on the trip to control Asher, I wouldn't have a chance of getting moved to PR. For two, Paisley was not attractive by any means and the mental visual of Asher trying, and failing, to coerce her into sleeping with him was nauseating.

"By the way," he added. "You're a terrible liar."

He paid his bill and made his way out the exit. I was left standing there, still trying to swallow all of the emotions Asher had arose in me with only a few minutes of his time. First, humiliation washed over me since I was just so ready to kiss him--in front of all of my coworkers, no less!
What were you thinking, Nat,
I seethed at myself. And now the fact that my transfer and even possibly my
job
could be on the line. What if Theodore found out that Asher could see through me and that's how he figured out Paisley was his escort?

I steadied myself on the bar as my mind raced. What should I do? Should I quit? No, that would be ridiculous. Why throw gas on a house that's already on fire?

"What's going on?" Clara asked, concern written all over her face and voice.

I just kept shaking my head. I need to think, I need to think.

"Nat, are you okay? Do you want to go home?" Her hand was on my arm, comforting me.

Taking a final swig of my drink, finishing it, I turned to face Clara. Even looking at her comforted me, and I realized that she was probably the only best friend I had in this city.

"I think I might have really fucked up."

While I wasn't sure of the consequences, I did know one thing: I was in trouble. Big trouble.

"Miss Lane, Mr. Harding is requesting a meeting for you in his office," Clara announced on the other line in her business-voice, which meant that he was probably standing beside her.

"Thank you, Miss Laurel. I will be right there," I responded cordially, just in case she had me on speaker.

I put down the receiver and wiped my palms on the hem of my skirt. Who would've known that your hands could sweat so much from one brief phone call? I'd had all weekend to think about the repercussions of what Asher told me on Friday, and none of the possible outcomes looked good. So, instead of getting anything productive done, I decided to make myself feel better with Netflix and birthday cake ice cream.

My feet helped roll my chair away from my desk as I gulped. Quickly, I rewiped my palms on my pencil skirt and took my time smoothing out imaginary wrinkles before walking towards Mr. Harding's office. With each leaden step, my chest filled with more and more dread.
This is it. I'm getting fired. It's been a fun two months.
I was never the best at dealing with confrontation--that was part of the reason why I kept my sass to myself. I didn't want to have to face the consequences. It was also why I was almost never in trouble: I followed the rules. Now, I was heading to my dismissal, and I hadn't even done anything wrong.
It's all Asher's fault,
I thought angrily.
Life would have been so much easier and simpler if he could just keep his cock in check.

"
Good luck
," Clara mouthed as I walked past her desk.

I flashed her my best confident smile, but I knew it was wavering. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew it wasn't good. The CEO never requested last-minute meetings with me. It almost felt like I was heading off to the principal's office because the person next to me cheated. It was unfair.

Theodore Harding's office looked very different from the rest of Harding & Co. Most of the company had a modern, sleek look to it, with shiny black marble surfaces and glass walls, doors, and, of course, windows. Not Mr. Harding's. It would have made no difference if his office were here or in another country since it was so closed off from the office. A steel door separated him from the rest of us. I reached up to press the intercom button beside his door, but Clara beat me to it from her desk as I heard her speak to him over the intercom. Within seconds, I was buzzed in. It almost felt ridiculous being buzzed in, since I was probably only five feet away from him.

The locks clicked and the steel doors slid open, revealing mahogany and leather for days. His office had a faint smell of cigars and he had a bar tucked to the side of his office space, beside the fireplace. I eyed the whiskey bottle longingly before turning back towards my boss. No matter how much I needed a drink, I don't think I could ever satisfy my needs with whiskey. It always felt like I was drinking acetone.

"Miss Lane, please, come sit," his rich voice came from behind a cherry wood desk that looked impossibly large for him.

I moved towards the seat opposite his desk, but he shook his head in a 'no' as he stood simultaneously. "We don't need much formalities today," he assured me as he moved towards the leather chairs beside his fireplace. "Please," he said, indicating my seat with his hand.

Perching on the edge of the hard leather seat, I was even more confused and unsure of myself. He was acting more friendly than usual, which was bizarre if he was planning on firing me.
Unless he's doing it to stay on friendly terms so I don't spill his dirty secret about his son.

I swallowed my parched throat before speaking. "Clara--er, Miss Laurel--said you wanted to see me?" I asked, my voice coming out hoarse even though I'd just had a glass of water at my desk.

The CEO of Harding & Co nodded, his face stern. "Indeed. I received news that you spoke to Asher on Friday night?"

My eyes widened. I wasn't expecting him to just jump right into it, and as much as I'd thought about what I could say over the weekend, I had nothing good to say. How do you explain that you
didn't
tell someone that there'd be an escort arranged for them? Like, how could I even begin to prove that I didn't say that? It was too absurd that Asher would guess it, and I had no idea what he had access to, so I couldn't defend myself by saying he probably snooped. It's not exactly like "he can see right through me" is a great defense.

"Yes, I-" I started.

"He told me that he informed you of the change in plans, correct?"

I slid back in my seat, trying hard not to let the relief on my face show while also trying to mask my confusion.
Oh.
"Yeah. I mean, yes. He did. Very briefly, though."

Mr. Harding nodded knowingly. "Miss Lane, I realize that you have only been here at Harding & Co for a brief amount of time. Regardless, other than a few minor bumps, your work ethic has been impeccable and you seem to have a way with my son. He seems to respect you."

I almost laughed out loud.
That's Asher's way of showing respect?
Clearly Theodore Harding hadn't seen our interactions much.

He continued, "I would like to extend the opportunity for you to accompany my son to the meeting with Mr. Slate. I would attend to it myself, but, unfortunately, I am leaving for a conference I cannot miss this week."

"What happened to Mrs. May?" I blurted, feeling panic start to rise at the notion of being away with Asher for a full two weeks. This is absurd. I'm the
last
person in the world who could tame Asher for two weeks in London.

"Mrs. May had to be let go due to inappropriate conduct towards the younger males on her team, though that is no concern of yours. What
is
relevant to you, however, is this meeting. This is non-negotiable, though I guarantee it will be worth your while. The bonus you would get regardless of your success," he said, waving his hand in the air as if that would be a given. Noticing the panic on my face, he added, "Don't worry, I don't expect you to carry out the full extent of Mrs. May's duties--although, if you
can
ensure that my son behaves, then your bonus will reflect that. I'm simply asking that you watch him and report back to me with any misbehavior on his part. To see if he's a liability, of course."

He wants me to spy on Asher?
I fidgeted in my seat. I was definitely relieved that he didn't expect me to try to control Asher, but it felt strange spying on him and going behind his back. It felt wrong.

"Should you report back accurately for the duration of this trip, then Mrs. May's position will be yours, in addition to the raise that accompanies it."

"Wow," I breathed, trying to make sure my jaw was in place rather than on the ground. As wrong as it felt spying on him, there really wasn't anything to contemplate here. Either I leave Harding & Co or I would receive a two-week, all expenses paid trip with Asher Harding along with a bonus and potential promotion. Besides, if Asher behaved himself then there would be nothing to report back
.
But my optimism wasn't fooling the logical part of my mind. I knew that if I told Theodora Harding any misstep on Asher's part, Asher would most likely lose his job. I also doubted my ability to fight the way Asher made me feel whenever he was within reach.

"I trust you know the itinerary, rules and expectations for the trip as Mrs. May had planned?" Mr. Harding asked.

I nodded. "Yes, I typed up Mrs. May's rules and confirmed the meeting information with Mr. Slate."

"Wonderful." The CEO stood from his seat, and it was clear he was done with me for now. "Please arrange for your flight and accommodation with the company's account."

"Yes, Mr. Harding." I moved towards the door. "Thank you for the opportunity," I added, even though I wasn't really sure if I was or not.

"Oh, and Miss Lane." Theodore Harding's voice had turned stern again, and he added, "My son has a bit of a reputation, but I am impressed with your grace and the way you carry yourself. I expect that you will continue to carry yourself professionally around him. At all times."

I bit my lip, my back turned to him. My mind was screaming,
Yeah, obviously I won't fool around with Asser, son of Thee Old Bore.
But my racing heart was telling a different story. It didn't matter in this case. I said what I had to: "Of course, sir. My position at Harding & Co is of utmost importance."

I could hear the smile in his voice, even though he only gave me a one-word response. "Good."

"Natalie. My office."

My skin prickled in anticipation and I jumped a little before I even had a chance to visually confirm that it was Asher. His voice was so familiar to me now, except this time it sounded different. He sounded upset-no,
angry
. Or, at least, almost angry. I hadn't even been back at my seat for two minutes before he'd soundlessly approached me from behind and had quietly requested my presence.

I followed him to his office, eyeing his form as he walked in front of me. The charcoal t-shirt he wore somehow hugged his body yet hung loosely at the same time. Sometimes I wondered whether he wore clothes that helped define every inch of his sculpted figure on purpose or if he just really liked tighter-fitting band shirts. His biceps flexed as he walked, and my eyes traced the ripple of his muscles, following the tattoo sleeve that covered it. The roses swirled around his arm, with skeletal hands and snakes wrapped around them. It was beautifully gruesome.
I wonder what the story behind it is.

He closed the door behind him and tugged the side of the curtain shut, making sure not an inch of his office was visible from the outside. My heart dropped.
So the rumors were true... He really does abuse his position.
I readied myself for his advances, prepared to bolt for the door or throw my body against the glass, if needed.

Asher must have noticed the shift in my demeanor because that seemed to rile him up even more. His blue eyes burned me, and I stood there transfixed. I wasn't sure what was going on with him, but I didn't want to ask and open the can of worms.