𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓈.
Isabella Leighton, a 23-year-old aspiring lawyer, unexpectedly lands a job working for the most prominent CEO in New York. While she doesn't align with his lifestyle, the generous sa...
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ASHER
It had been roughly two weeks since Isabella and I had a proper conversation, one that had been frustratingly interrupted by my rather unpleasant wife.
Given that she was my assistant, we had occasional interactions out of necessity, but all of our conversations took place at the office.
I couldn't deny that she occupied my thoughts just as prominently as she did two weeks ago, with the photo she had sent me still vividly etched in my mind.
Every time I saw her, my mind inevitably drifted to the mirror selfie or her red lace thong, discreetly stored in the bottom drawer of my office desk.
I never asked, but I assumed she was preoccupied with preparing for her upcoming exam, which was just a week away. Rather than probing, I respected her need for space and time to concentrate on her own responsibilities.
However, whenever I saw her, I couldn't help but imagine a scenario where we were in my office, just like before. I leaned back in my chair, shut my eyes, and attempted to divert my mind from such thoughts, but it was futile; the arousal in my pants was undeniable.
"Liam mentioned he needed your signature," Isabella suddenly appeared on the other side of my desk, extending a document toward me.
"I'll take care of it tomorrow," I responded. "Everyone has already left for the day, and you should do the same." I offered her a quick smile before getting up from my chair to gather my belongings.
"I'd rather not leave it for tomorrow, so please, can you sign it now?" I couldn't help but notice that over the past two weeks, her attitude had been consistently irritable, regardless of the subject.
Fed up with the situation, I decided to address it. "Is your stress from studying for the exam causing you to be bitchy towards everyone?" I recognized that my choice of words might have been inappropriate, but they were truthful.
I suddenly felt a stinging sensation on my cheek as my head turned due to Isabella's hand. "Fuck," I muttered, refocusing my gaze on her.
"You are the reason I've been 'bitchy' towards everyone, not my exam," she clarified, her tone carrying a sense of superiority.
"Me?" I asked, genuinely bewildered by her statement.
She abruptly placed the paper on my desk, her gaze intense. "I've noticed how you behave around Kady," she started. "I walk in here, and you're hastily buttoning up your shirt, as if I didn't catch that." I had a reasonable explanation for this, but she continued, "And then you call me after work hours, flirt with me, send me a photo of you wearing only a towel," she paused to take a deep breath before adding, "just for Kady to be yelling for you in the background."
