Chapter Eleven

Elysia's pov

Present time

I remember the first day I came here. I checked the address in my diary. Yes, I confirmed. This was the place. A former warehouse converted to a mixed-use residential, office, and retail block, all sparkling clean brick and lots of glass. 

The ground floor was full of bijou shops and coffee bars—I made a mental note to check them out later, and drop in some of the family business cards—and I guessed that the top two floors were offices. It looked as if the architect had taken advantage of a partially collapsed roof at one end and had put up a tower with one wall of sheer glass—though it had been sympathetically done and looked in keeping with the building. That, I guessed, was the residential part of the building; the rooms on the side with the glass wall would have stunning views of the Thames.

I took the stairs to the first floor, where a receptionist sat behind a light wood desk.

'Can I help you?'

'I have an appointment to see Zayn Lanchester. Elysia Moore,' I said.

That is the name of my former CEO.

'Through the corridor, the last door on the right,' the receptionist said with a smile.

I resisted the urge to go outside and check again, just like my first day. To be sure that I was in the right building.

Ron weber. When I heard his name a few weeks before, I thought he reminded me of my ex-husband, but I brushed it aside. How would I know? When I never even met him.

He'd sounded crisp on the phone, the kind of man who knew what he wanted and didn't waste time. I couldn't wait to meet him but right now, I was beyond stunned. The man I had a one-night stand with. Why hadn't I noticed? Blame it on the alcohol.

I'd been expecting someone in a sharp suit and handmade shoes; the man leaning back in a chair, talking on the phone with his feet on the desk, looked more like a rock star. He was wearing a black round-necked sweater that I guessed was cashmere, teamed with black trousers, and his short dark hair was expensively tousled—the kind of haircut that made him look as if he'd just got out of bed. Teamed with eyes the color of cornflowers and the most sensual mouth she'd ever seen; it was enough to make my libido sit up and beg.

Again, why did I notice all these the night before?

Though I knew better than to mix business and pleasure. This man was my boss. Well, that's if he still decided to keep me. we'd agreed to meet today and discuss the situation; she'd learned in the past that someone might sound reasonable enough on the phone, but in person, they were a nightmare to work with, so it was easier to discuss things face to face. Particularly as I prided myself on her ability to judge people quickly yet fairly: in business, I'd never once been wrong.

He put his hand over the receiver. 'Are you Elysia?' he asked quietly.

I nodded.

'Good. I'm Ron. Sorry about this. I'll be with you in two minutes—take a seat or a look round the office, whichever you prefer.' There was no surprise or familiarity in his expression, just a normal boss-to-employee relationship.

And he was as good as his word; he'd wrapped up the call before I'd had time to absorb more than the fact there were two desks in the room, both with state-of-the-art computers and completely clear work surfaces, and a bank of filing cabinets. The view from the office window over the river was stunning; I could see ships sailing down the Thames, and on a sunny day like this, the water sparkled.

'Right—I'm all yours,' he said.

The thoughts that were put in my head. Very, very unprofessional thoughts. Thoughts of him lying naked on crisp cotton sheets that were just about to get seriously rumpled. Just like we did the night before.

I pushed the idea away and hoped that my face hadn't turned as red and hot as it felt. What the hell was wrong with me? I never, but never, started fantasizing about my boss. Even the good-looking ones.

Even though I wasn't comfortable with it, I was determined to not crack.

Though Ron Weber was a little more than good-looking. I'd seen him the night before, but I knew that I was seeing him in the daylight, damn. He was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. 

The sort whose smile would make any woman's heart feel as if it had just somersaulted.

'Can I get you a coffee?' he asked.

'Thanks. That'd be nice.' However, what I needed was to purge my mind and take a cold shower.

'Bathroom over there, if you need it.' He indicated the door in the far corner.

Oh, no. Please don't tell me that I said that out loud. Then her common sense kicked in. He meant if she needed the loo. 'Thanks, I'm fine.'

He opened another door to a small galley kitchen. 'Milk, sugar?'

'Just milk, please.'

He added milk to one cup and sugar to another, then took a tin from the cupboard and removed the lid. 'Help yourself.'

Extremely posh milk biscuits.

Clearly, my amusement must have shown on my face because he laughed. 'My only vice. Well, almost.'

I caught the gleam in his eyes and could guess the other one. It dovetailed with the thoughts I'd had when he'd told me he was all mine. And it made my mouth go suddenly dry. I had to make a real effort to force my mind back to business. He wanted a secretary, not a lover. He had already started by giving us distance, I was going to keep it.

I wasn't in the market for a lover in any case. I liked my life as it was. Happy and single. Uncomplicated. Two years of being married to a ghost has taught me a lot.

I cleared my throat and he turned to look at me, clasping his hands across his desk.

'I know as my new boss; you'd want to get a new secretary but-'.

He raised his hand and just like I was remote-controlled, I was forced to keep shut.

'I'm not letting you off. On the contrary, I need your help,'

an eyebrow shot up.

'what makes you think you need my help?' I asked.

'You come highly recommended,' he said simply.

'So,' she countered, 'do you.'

He inclined his head, acknowledging the compliment. 'I do have my assistant', he paused and I gulped, 'but she's pregnant. So I need you to fill in for her- temporarily', he continued.

"So basically, I have my job until your secretary decides to show up huh", I asked. He took a sip of his coffee almost immediately and I took that as a yes.

I sighed. Better this to nothing.

'Ok, deal,' I said, finally.

'My office isn't usually this disorganized, sorry about the mess. As you know, I just started here today, " he said, shepherding me back into the main room and indicating a chair.

'Disorganized?' Yes, my former boss was a mess but him? I don't think so. The place was spotless. Unless I was missing something huge.

'As I said on the phone, my assistant's pregnant and she's been sick a lot. I've had temps in for interviews before moving down here, but su—that's my assistant—hasn't been able to brief them properly, and I haven't been around enough to do it myself.' He rolled his eyes. 'Today's temp who I was supposed to interview didn't even bother turning up. I was talking to the agency when you came in, asking them what had happened.

I couldn't resist the impulse to tease him. 'Are you telling me you're so scary that the temps have got your name on a blacklist and refuse to come and work for you?' If I was sad that I was gonna be losing my job soon, I could still make fun of it.

'I'm not scary in the slightest. I just expect a fair day's work for a fair day's pay. And if you can't do basic things like answering the phone politely and taking a proper message, then you shouldn't take a job as a PA.' He raked a hand through his hair. 'Actually, one of the temps was excellent, but when I asked if I could have her back for a long-term assignment, the agency said she'd already been given a place somewhere else and wasn't available.' He propped his elbows on the desk and rested his chin on his hands. 'Which leaves me in a mess. I need someone to go through all the filing and put my office back into the order I'm used to, and to keep this office ticking over until Su decides whether she wants to come back after she's had the baby.

'I can do the first bit,' Sara said, 'but I can do short-term assignments only. Since I'll be relieved of my duties soon, I'd better start looking for other alternatives.

'Understood.'

'So how much filing are we talking about? Because, unless I'm going mad, I can't see any filing at all and I know I did every filling that was needed for my former boss'

Ron walked over to the other desk and removed a large cardboard box from underneath it. It was full of papers, stuffed haphazardly. 'This,' he said. 'I know, I know. Do the filing daily and it's a small job. Leave it, and the next thing you know it's overwhelming. But Suzy felt too rough to do it. She knows I hate clutter, so she put it all into this box out of the way, meaning to do it later.'

'Except now she's not here, and your temps have consistently ignored it.'

'Exactly. And Suzy usually weeds the files. My guess is she hasn't done that for a while, either.'

'So would I get carte blanche to reorganize your filing system?'

'If it's a genuine time-saver, yes; if you're trying to justify you letting me off, no.'

I liked the fact that Ron Weber was this blunt. It meant I'd know exactly where she stood with him. No pussyfooting around, no hiding behind a facade of being a polite, bumbling upper-class Englishman, the way that my former boss had. Although it did hurt me a little to think that he isn't acknowledging me or anything we did the night before.

Not that Ron could pretend to be upper-class. Not with that accent.

'So, what exactly is it you do?' I asked, genuinely curious.

'Are you telling me you didn't look me up on the Internet?'

I flushed. Of course, I had. 'It didn't tell me very much. You're twenty-eight and a millionaire with generational wealth.' And his girlfriends were all the model type—tall, long legs, exotic looks, and impossibly shiny dark hair. He dated a lot, was on the guest list at the best parties, and changed his girlfriend frequently. Extremely frequently. 'But newspaper stories and online gossip columns aren't always accurate.'

'It didn't tell me much about you, either. Apart from the fact that you don't have your own website.'

So he'd looked me up, too? I let out a sigh of relief, glad that he didn't find anything about me- or my past.

Well, of course, he had. He seemed like the kind of man who'd pay attention to detail. 'I don't need a website. My skills are good enough to land me any job I want.'

How come we ended up discussing my business? I was meant to be finding out about him. 'You still haven't answered my question,' I pointed out.

'I buy and sell businesses.'

I blinked. 'You're a co?' No way was I going to work for someone like that. Even if he looked cute, and had the most delicious mouth I'd ever seen or tasted. I had standards. Standards that I wasn't going to compromise.

'No. I get bored easily and I like a challenge.' he shrugged. 'So I buy failing businesses and turn them into going concerns. And, once they're back on their feet, I normally manage to arrange a management buyout.'

So the people who put the work in with him to sort out the company reaped the rewards. A man with a conscience. That's nice then.

'What kind of businesses?'

'Sport and leisure. Gyms, health clubs, spas and I'm thinking about expanding a bit.'

'And you do all this on your own?'

'With a good PA. And decent managers in each business who are savvy enough to talk to me well before something becomes a major problem—and who come to me with solutions rather than expecting me to sort it all out.'

I smiled. 'Can I start now?'.