Page 20 of Forbidden Desire

“Yes, Mr. Vallejo. I sent it a few hours ago.”

“Thank you. Have a good night.” I nod and head out, fully intending to end up at a bar with a bourbon in hand. And I do. I wind up at Bemelman’s with my good friend, Jacob.

“How did it go?” he asks, taking a sip of his old fashioned.

“Rough,” I say, loosening my tie.

“Wow.” He looks surprised.

“What?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “You’re usually more peppy when you take over a company.”

“It’s complicated.”

He looks at me curiously, and I realize I’m not leaving this bar without an explanation of some sort. I sigh as I tell him all about Erica and how we spent the night together a year ago, and how she now works for me.

“Damn. Thatiscomplicated,” says Jacob, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you just fire her? It would make your life easier.”

“She loves her job. Plus, she’s good at it. She’s going to make this acquisition easier.”

“Are you sure you’re not just keeping her around to get her in your bed again?” He gives me a sly smile.

“Shut up.” I roll my eyes.

By my second drink, all I can think about is Erica. Not one woman at the bar interests me, and the women at that bar usually go there to catch the interest of high-profile businessmen, wearing skintight dresses and sky-high heels. They’re all the same. I usually go for them. I could use thedistraction right about now, but it doesn’t feel right when my mind is consumed by another woman.

When I arrive early at the office on Monday morning, I sift through my emails, looking for the one I’ve been waiting all weekend for. I see it, sitting at the top of the list. Erica’s signed contract. It looks like she barely signed it this morning. I wonder if she spent the weekend debating if she should take the job or not. Either way, she did, which means she will be working with me from now on.

As if on cue, there is a knock at my door and my assistant Jessica pops her head in.

“Ms. Gunner is here to see you, Mr. Vallejo,” she says.

“Please bring her in.” I nod.

Jessica pushes the door open all the way and I see Erica standing behind her. She looks unsure as she stands there in a white button-down blouse and a cream skirt, her hair pulled up in a bun, except for the tendrils of hair that have escaped and hang on either side of her face. I’m taken back by her beauty, but try not to show that it feels like the wind has been knocked out of me.

“Good morning,” I say brightly.

“Good morning,” she says coolly as she steps inside, Jessica closing the door as she leaves us alone.

“Next time, you don’t need to check in with my assistant.”

“Right. Okay.” She hesitates a moment before taking the seat across from me.

“Did you have a good weekend?” I ask, trying to make small talk as a way to ease into the work day, and also out of curiosity. I want to know more about her.

“Just fine.” Her voice is clipped, her tone cold.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I realize that’s all I’m getting from her. She’s so unlike the woman I met on the rooftop that night. That woman was warm and enthusiastic. This woman is cold and distant. She’s starting to make me wonder if that night even happened. But it did.

Then a thought hits me. Maybe she reallydoesn’tremember me. After all, I don’t really know her. Aside from her file filled with HR’s praises and the fact she’s a billionaire’s daughter, I don’t know much else. Maybe she has casual hookups all the time. I feel a slight pang of jealousy at the thought of another man’s hands on her. She could have been with someone last night for all I know.

It has been a year after all, and I haven’t been a saint myself. In fact, I took up the barista on her celebratory offer just last week, a few days after I obtained the paper. It was a fun romp in the back of the coffee shop, but nothing mind-blowing. It was simply a way to release my stress. My night with Erica stands out more and that had been so long ago. That’s saying something.It’s disappointing to think her memory doesn’t serve her as well as mine.

I look up at her now, trying to read her dark green eyes as she forces them to look back at me. It’s like it pains her to do so. I can’t help but feel frustrated. I’m starting to wonder if promoting her to this job was a good idea. A distraction this big is the last thing I need as I take on a new company. I remind myself it’s only temporary. Plus, I’m still holding out hope she will thaw toward me.

“Right. Well, we have a big week ahead of us,” I say. “Now that I’ve made necessary adjustments to the staff, we’re moving to my building on the upper east side.”

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