Page 2 of The Executive Assistant

Even so, every time Cameron rearranged his legs, I became increasingly aware of the mass of him. I wished he was shorter. I wished he was smaller. I wished he had a different face and a different voice. I wished he had eyes that didn’t pierce so deeply.

“The Lloyds would like dinner with you,” Cameron finished. “Would tomorrow night suit?”

I blinked my thoughts away. “No, I can’t do tomorrow night.”

He frowned, glancing at his phone, and I knew he was checking my calendar.

“It’s not a work thing,” I explained. “I have a personal commitment.”

Cameron’s eyes met mine, blue and as clear as ice. I felt a chill and jerked my eyes away, already rearranging my face into something blank because I knew what he would say before he said it.

“Is it a date?” he asked.

“It’s none of your business,” I said. “As I mentioned, it’s a personal commitment.”

“Ah, yes.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, good for you. It’s been a while since you had a personal commitment. I was starting to worry about you.”

“Cameron,” I said, shooting him a sharp look.

Most of my employees would have cowered at the sight—not that I glared at my workers that often. No, Cameron was the one who received the majority of my glares, and somehow he was never, ever affected by it.

Now, all he did was raise his hands in surrender, his lips twitching. “I only meant that I was worried for your work-life balance,” he said pleasantly. “This will be good for you. We can’t have a CEO who’s working all the time.That’s a fast track to burnout.”

“Very true, Ms. Firth,” Anderson said from the front. “Besides, it makes sense for a pretty young woman to start a family.”

“Anderson,” I said patiently. I couldn’t get mad at him. He was only saying it because he thought he was being kind, the way my parents thought they were being kind when they asked whether I’d ever get married.

Cameron got in before me. “I doubt Alison has time to deal with men, not when she’s so busy running a company.” He smiled at me. “I, for one, hope you remain single.”

My heart stopped.

“If you found a husband, I’d be out of a job,” he continued.

I took a second to compose myself. Of course, that’s what he meant. He wasn’t implying…

I pushed the thought away. “Why?” I asked him. “Because marrying someone would automatically mean I’d become a housewife?”

He blinked. “Right, of course not. I spoke without thinking.”

“God,” I muttered, “you’re no better than Anderson.”

Cameron smiled at me, but this time it was slightly uncertain, which took me aback. It was very, very rare that Cameron ever looked unsettled, especially around me.

“I’m not bad,” Anderson piped up, as he turned down astreet. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “I only bring it up because I care about you, Ms. Firth. Your work is impressive, but there’s nothing more important than love.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I love my company,” I replied in a light tone. I knew I spent a lot of time working, but Firth Marketing was my baby, my dream turned reality. Of course, I was going to put my all into it. I didn’t know anything else.

I didn’t want to argue because I knew Anderson had good intentions, but I got this sort of comment all the time, especially now that I’d turned thirty. I had been single for several years now, and I wouldn’t change that. Relationships were distracting and complicated, and where in the world could I fit that in my already hectic life?

Sure, it had been so long since I’d had sex that I practically had cobwebs between my legs, but I spent so many late nights at the office that it didn’t really matter that my bed at home was cold and empty.

“Alison’s got plenty of time to make some guy out there feel very lucky,” Cameron piped up. “The company’s in its prime. It wouldn’t be smart for her to slow down the momentum.”

I couldn’t help the surprised raise of my eyebrows. Cameron always had my back, but this was a little unexpected. I thought that maybe deep down, he agreed with Anderson like everyone else.

Before I could reply, rain poured from the sky, rattling as it hit the roof of the car. “We don’t have an umbrella, do we?” I asked, looking around the backseat.

“Sorry,” Anderson said, sounding genuinely distressed as he parked in front of the Firth Marketing building. “I can go in and fetch an umbrella.”

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