The Rules (3 page)

When the elevator reached the seventh floor with a ding, I jumped. No one had gotten on with me at any point, and I’d ridden to the top alone. I stepped out onto the plush carpet and headed for the desk in front of me. Judy McLaren. Since the first time I’d met her, she’d been nothing but kind, and I intended to keep that rapport with her.

She smiled at me. “Hey, Amy. Mr. Alexander left me a list of things he needs you to do. I hope you don’t mind.”

I was a bit taken aback. I had expected him to speak to me himself. The thought I was not going to face him this morning was both a relief and a disappointment.

Judy continued, “He was in a rush, but he said he spoke to Moriah, and she highly recommended you to handle his business today.” She handed me the list, which was again not what I expected. It was in a sealed envelope.

“What sort of things does he need me to do?”

“I have no idea. The envelope was closed when he handed it to me. I wouldn’t worry, though. He’s a private person. That’s not unusual. I hope you won’t be insulted if he asked you to pick up some sort of spice from a particular grocery store forty miles from here and then alphabetize his condiments at his private residence. He’s eclectic. I’d just go with it and see if you can get it all done by the end of the day. If not, no worries. There’s always tomorrow. I’m sure he left a prioritized list. He always does.” She rolled her eyes.

“I see.”

Judy smiled. “He’s a great guy. I love working for him. He doesn’t get mad, even if I screw something up. He just explains it better and we move on. So don’t stress. Have fun.” With that, I was summarily dismissed from Judy the same way I had been dismissed from Moriah. Not one person thought it odd that the new girl was summoned by the owner to run his errands.

Clutching the envelope, I backed up a few steps and then turned around so I wouldn’t fall on my ass. I wore my second favorite pair of heels that morning, silver sling backs that made my legs longer and went fantastic with my silver jewelry. Probably not the best choice for running errands.

As I stepped back into the elevator, I smoothed my free hand down my skirt. It was a pale peach color made of silky material that didn’t reach my knees. I thought it skirted the edge of appropriate for the office, sexy but professional. The blouse I’d chosen to go with it was white. I knew it hinted at what lay beneath just from being white and silky. I’d carefully worn a skin-colored bra that wouldn’t stand out as obvious beneath the blouse. Some other lacy bra might have been overkill, but this one felt perfect to me.

I carefully tore the envelope open as I rode back down to the first floor. If Mr. Alexander wasn’t in the office, there was no telling where he was. He could be out of town for all I knew. He traveled often. I prayed I wouldn’t be required to go to his home. That would be more than I could bear. Seeing his personal belongings would do nothing to help me sleep at night. Getting a more thorough lungful of his scent wouldn’t help out, either.

I almost groaned out loud when I opened the trifold paper and Mr. Alexander’s credit card fell out also. The note was addressed to me personally, which meant he knew I would be the person fulfilling today’s tasks. That wasn’t a good sign. I straightened my spine as I absorbed that fact. I could do this.

After all, I was a woman. I’d been to stores before. I knew where to buy things and more or less what aisles contained what in a grocery store. It was a little shocking to see this list of personal errands, even though Judy had warned me of the possibility. Still, weird. Didn’t the man have a personal assistant to do these things for him?

I stopped by my office on the first floor to get my purse and let Moriah know I was leaving the building.

She lifted her gaze toward me and smiled. “No problem. If you don’t make it back here, I’ll know why. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She’ll know why?

Moriah narrowed her eyes. She pointed at the paper clutched in my hand. “The list? I assume it’s long. I’ve never known Mr. Alexander to leave a short list.” She giggled.

“Oh, right.” I held up the page as though seeing it for the first time. “Yes. Guess I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. See you later.” Moriah waved as I turned to go.

My legs were shaky as I headed for my car. It was eight fifteen in the morning. I hadn’t intended to leave the office until five, and here I was right back where I’d started the day. Downtown Atlanta traffic was awful. As expected. I probably would have been better off waiting a while to begin. But then again, I wanted to make sure I finished everything as quickly as possible. This weird turn of events had left me unnerved. I’d meant to climb the corporate ladder. I had not meant to run the personal errands of the CEO in order to do so.

It took me forty-five minutes to get to Buckhead and locate the store indicated first on the list. It took me another half an hour to collect his very specific requests. And I did all this with a knot in my stomach while I imagined the woman who was going to reap the rewards of this scavenger hunt later tonight. Because there could be no mistake. Mr. Alexander had a date.

I actually grew a bit perturbed as I went through the motions of collecting two bottles of expensive wine that cost over seventy-five dollars apiece, prawns, some sort of specific premade potatoes from the deli that made my stomach grumble when I saw them, and a brand of fresh green beans in a steaming bag.

The man even included a dessert, which he’d ordered from the bakery section beforehand. I didn’t pay attention to what was in that box, afraid I might be tempted to open it and eat the entire thing myself if it was anything near as fancy as the rest of the meal.

If it was chocolate, there was no way I would have been able to resist.

The store provided me with a Styrofoam cooler and ice to keep everything cold. After carefully stashing the groceries in my car, making sure there was no way the wine bottles would break against each other during the drive, I moved on to the next task.

What the hell? My eyeballs jumped out of my head as I squeezed the paper in my hand, wrinkling it as though it were a wad of trash already.

I had intentionally not read ahead on this list. It seemed prudent to make my way down it from top to bottom. And now I glared at the second task, seething.

The man actually wanted me to pick up a parcel from a lingerie store. Was he fucking kidding? The shop was high-end. I knew the name. I even knew where it was located. I’d driven by it before, drooling at the items in the window. I had not, however, been inside. Nor could I ever hope to enter the place in my lifetime. If I ever chanced to earn enough money to purchase something from Justine’s, it would be much better used to feed a third world country instead of draping across my skin.

I swung out onto the street, headed in that direction, my hands now gripping the steering wheel and my heart racing. The audacity of this asshole.

My boss, I reminded myself. A man who knew perfectly well who was running these errands. I wanted to kill Moriah for recommending me. An ironic turn of events since Moriah thought she’d done me a favor. Perhaps he sent random people to do his bidding every day of the week, but today I’d drawn the short straw. Any normal person who wasn’t interested in getting in their boss’s pants to see if his cock matched the rest of him in virility would probably not be as flustered as I currently was.

However, I wasn’t any normal person. I was me. And I did not want to know what sort of lingerie Mr. Alexander bought his girlfriend. Not tonight. Not ever.

Ugh. My parents had raised me better than this. My mother would die if she knew I was running around Atlanta picking up lingerie for my boss. This was not why I went to college. I had more self-respect than this.

I worked my way through the streets of Buckhead until I arrived at Justine’s. It was almost ten. I shook as I stepped into the store, feeling like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
. If the ladies working in this shop didn’t see right through me and know I was a fraud, it would be a miracle. In order to avoid being tossed out on my ass before I did my instructed duties, I held my head high and marched straight to the woman behind the desk, totally ignoring the cute girl working among the racks.

“Hi. I’m here to pick up a package for Mr. Cade Alexander.”

The woman lit up. “Oh. Right.” She smiled warmly, making me relax marginally and helping me drop the fear of being thrown out like yesterday’s dirty laundry. “Give me one second. I’ll grab that for you.”

She winked as she turned to head to the back room. I lifted my brows and glanced around the shop. I felt awkward, as though gazing at all this finery would somehow taint the abundant silks and laces.

“Here we are,” the sweet, sugary voice spoke again at my back.

I twisted to find her holding up a fancy bag, lifting it over the counter. “I hope it fits. Mr. Alexander has good taste.” She looked me up and down quickly. “Should be perfect.” She winked again and then giggled as she set the bag on the counter. “Have a fun night.”

I almost died. I couldn’t even lift my hand to take the bag. It took me several seconds to register what she thought. And when I finally caught on, my mouth dried and my throat swelled. Not to mention the renewed flush racing up my neck. I’d flushed so many times in the last few days, I was going to get a permanent rash.

“Oh, I—” I cut myself off. There wasn’t one thing I could say to make this situation any better. In fact, I was certain I could only make it worse. The best option was to take the bag, smile, and get the hell out of Justine’s. If that woman thought the lingerie in that bag was for me, so be it. Arguing with her would only make me look stranger, and I was already riding high on the idiot train for the day. No help needed.

I have no idea how I made it out the door and back to my car, but I sat there trying to catch my breath for several minutes before I lifted the list again. Perhaps it would have been better to peruse the entire thing first. But at this point, I was afraid for my heart and my sanity. One item at a time. That would be my motto. No matter how mortifying it got, I would live through this day.

No one ever needed to know how I spent this particular Monday. Not Cheyenne. Not Meagan. Not Moriah or Judy. I would take this humiliation to the grave with me.

The bag from Justine’s sat on the passenger seat mocking me. I hadn’t looked inside, but I did know it wouldn’t do any good. I could tell by the shape that whatever was in the bag was also inside a box. Thank the Lord.

The trip to the florist for white roses wasn’t bad. Everyone liked to put flowers on their table, right? And the next stop I chose to put out of my head. By then I was becoming numb. Who cared if Mr. Alexander wanted to buy his girlfriend jewelry? I walked right up to the counter, told the clerk I was there to pick up a package for Mr. Alexander and then waited, not glancing around at a single item in the store this time.

I was way over my head with this one. If I thought the lingerie store was out of my league, it was nothing compared to Smith and Klein’s. This was beyond my dreams.

Thank God the employee didn’t hand me a ring-sized box. If he had, I might have exploded. By then I was beginning to think Mr. Alexander was not only having a simple date that night, but that he was about to propose. Who sent a peon from the first floor to pick up everything needed for a proposal? Not any man in his right mind. And certainly not a man I would ever consider dating.

If I suspected my boyfriend had sent another woman to buy things for me, I would kick his ass to the curb before he opened the door. My respect for Mr. Cade Alexander had shifted from high, to medium, and then low in the last few hours.

As I slid back into the car, I would find a new low—something much lower than the jewelry was about to rock my world.

The last thing on the list.

I’d noticed there was only one more line. I’d been elated to think this was coming to an end. Ecstatic. The thought of grabbing a late lunch and going back to the office had actually made entering that jeweler almost palatable. And then I could drag myself through the rest of the day and get the hell out of Alexander Technologies.

I intended to go straight home, lick my wounds, and open the want ads. There were plenty of other companies hiring people with my qualifications. I didn’t need to endure this sort of abuse. It was demeaning and made my blood boil. And if it happened this one time, it would happen again. Hell, I’d even done the job well. That meant my boss was likely to decide I was his fucking go-to girl, and before I knew it, I’d find myself standing inside his bedroom holding his robe and slippers while he fucked his girlfriend.

Nope. This was not the life I signed on for. And I wouldn’t lower myself to this level.

Except I’d made a commitment, and I also wasn’t the type of girl to turn tail and run when the going got tough. So, I had to finish this day, see this through. Today and the next two weeks in my notice when I gave it.

But this last item on the list was so far-fetched, I hesitated.

Gifts by Julia
.

I was familiar with Gifts by Julia. Everyone was. The name of the store was simply a pseudonym for a high-end sex shop.

Again, I was not a prude, but I also hadn’t ever been to a sex shop. Nor had I intended to enter one anytime soon. So, the thought of making this last stop made my stomach roil.

Cade Alexander was an asshole. It was confirmed. Whoever he was fucking later tonight in a luxurious candlelit dinner with roses and jewelry and lingerie and prawns and goddamn fuzzy handcuffs could have him. I had lost my interest.

I turned my mind off as I made my way through the outskirts of Atlanta until I arrived at my last destination. I held my head high, although glancing around to make sure no one saw me, and entered the store without allowing myself to consider the implications of this stop. I prayed like the other places I’d been, the clerk would hand me a bag and I would never be remotely privy to the contents.

Luckily there were no patrons at that particular hour, and the man working the counter looked up and did the hard work for me. “You here for Mr. Alexander?”