Page 19 of The Executive Assistant

“Sure. We’ll pick up again next week,” I said as everyone nodded and grabbed their things.

It was too late to make up for my lack of participation and attention. Everyone filtered out of the conference room, and I was at the back of the line, mentally shaking my head at myself. This was why I couldn’t get involved with Cameron, or any other man. I couldn’t have personal matters distracting me from the most important thing in my life: my company.

“Want me to have the meeting notes sent to you?” Wyatt asked as he lingered by the doorway.

Embarrassment shot through me, but I kept my composure. “Yes, I’ll review everything later today.”

Wyatt nodded. He paused for a second like he wanted to say something else or ask me something, but changed his mind and left the room.

Everything was fine. I was just having one off day, but I’d be back on the ball tomorrow.

I headed toward my office, passing by one of the break rooms. That’s when I heard a familiar voice, and my stomach flipped. Inside, Cameron was standing by the coffee machine, making one of our graphic designers laugh. Our eyes immediately locked, and my cheeks went hot.

I hadn’t seen Cameron all morning, since I’d been in a meeting. This was the first time I’d seen him since Saturday night.

Since we’d kissed.

Since I’d gotten on my knees for him.

Cameron didn’t smile at me, the way he usually did at work. Instead, he gave me a long, knowing look. It reminded me of the way he’d looked down at me on Saturday. Not quite smug, but sure of himself. Above me. In control. Like he wasmyboss.

Not for the first time, I replayed what had happened that night. Why hadn’t he stayed the night with me? Was it because he suddenly realized what a terrible idea it was? If so, why had it only occurred to him then, and not an hour before when he had his hand between my legs?

Or maybe…

Maybe I hadn’t done a good enough job. I’d never had a reason to doubt my… skills, but it had been years. I could be out of practice. Embarrassment flushed through me at the thought.

But no. He’d praised me.You’re so good. You’re so fucking good.And afterwards, he kissed me on the forehead.“You did such a good job,”he’d said.

I shook the memory of his voice from my head, and marched onwards. When I arrived at my office, I closed the door behind me a bit too hard, making one of the interns jump. Then, I closed all the blinds, so none of my employees would be able to see me through the glass walls. I wanted to hide away from the rest of the world — Cameron, especially.

What I needed to do was work. First, I read over Wyatt’s meeting notes, which he had emailed to me. Afterwards, I finalised a few contracts and electronically signed documents. Despite the familiarity of work, my shoulders remained tense, my jaw tight.

When I heard a knock on my door, my eyes snapped up as Cameron stepped inside, my body stiffening up. Obviously, I knew that I was going to have to come face to face with him at some point given his position, but I wasn’t ready yet.

He set a cup of coffee in front of me before taking a step back from my desk, his expression blank. “The graphic design team will be sending you some mock-ups for Opportune Media’s campaign to approve, and Matt Brandon from Paradise City Realty wants to arrange a meeting with you next week to start a new campaign.”

All I could do was stare at him because he sounded completely normal. When he lifted an eyebrow at me, I rebooted my brain and nodded, setting myself back into business mode. We would pretend Saturday never happened. Good. That was what I wanted too.

Because Saturday was a mistake, and it could never happen again.

“I’ll review the mock-ups. Set up a meeting with Mr. Brandon on whatever day you think works best,” I told him.

“Done and done,” he said. “What would you like forlunch? Cobb salad from Green Market or grilled chicken sandwich from Dally’s?”

“I’ll skip lunch, I’ve got too much work to do. I’ll help myself to the snacks in the break room if I get hungry.”

He frowned. “You can’t skip lunch, Alison. You need the energy to get through the rest of the day.”

“Cameron, I’ll be fine.”

“Coffee and a granola bar aren’t going to be enough. Don’t you want to perform your best?”

Why did he have to know me well enough to pitch my own motivations against me? “Fine,” I gritted out. “A grilled chicken sandwich. But I’m eating at my desk.”

“I’ll pick it up for you,” he said, with a victorious smile.

I huffed and turned my attention back to my computer screen. In my periphery, Cameron remained standing.

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