Page 44 of Bossy Wicked Prince
“This is Miss Daniels, my assistant.”
He gently touches my arm. It’s reassurance I didn’t know I needed—that whatever tasteless jokes these guys make, we’re a team. It’s us against them.
“Right, I remember your name from the emails,” Chris says. “For some reason, I didn’t picture you so young.”
“Or that you looked likethat,” Kyle adds. “Didn’t know you liked to hire eye candy, Walsh. Bringing her almost makes up for you being late.”
That’s three times he’s taunted us about being late. I can’t just let them pummel Nate when it has nothing to do with him. “I’m so sorry about our late arrival. It’s my fault. I’m new, and I made a mistake with the address.”
Kyle chuckles. “Ah-boot, eh?” he says in an exaggerated Canadian accent. “Look at this girl apologizing. I love how eager to please Canadian girls are.”
Ew. The way he’s leering at me puts a bad taste in my mouth. If he were anyone else, I’d have told him to let off. But I’m here representing Nate’s company. I need to stay professional. This is boardroom not a bar.
“I’ll get us some coffee,” I tell Nate.
He doesn’t even look at me. His shoulders are rigid, his expression flat. I can practically feel the ice radiating off him.
Wait, is he pissed at me?
Maybe he thought I was encouraging Kyle’s attention somehow? I glance down at my dress. Should I have worn a suit instead? Would that have been more professional? Or maybe he really is mad that I made us late, now that the CHG execs have made it clear how much it annoyed them.
Whatever it is, I’m not going to solve it by standing here gaping at him. I head over to the table they have set up in the corner. Hopefully, some caffeine will put Nate in a better mood.
Of course, the coffee is steaming hot when I pour two mugs from the insulated carafe. My mind quiets somewhat as I automatically go through the process of pouring and stirring cream and sugar into my own mug. Unsurprisingly, Prince Frowning takes his black.
There’s also a tray of gorgeous pastries. Thank god—an almond croissant is just what the doctor ordered. I skipped breakfast in my hurry to get out the door this morning, and I only nibbled on an energy bar on the plane. My empty stomach probably contributed to my panic attack.
I cringe inwardly. I hate that that happened in front of Nate, when I was trying to show him how professional I can be. I haven’t had a full-on attack like that in years. They started back when I was seventeen, with all the stuff with Dad. I’ve gotten better at dealing with them, but I guess the excitement of my first plane ride mixed badly with my nerves about the trip, it’s like all the grounding techniques I learned just flew out of my head.
I just needed this trip to go well, especially after seeing how much Nate’s funding impacted the shelter. He’ll probably never know how much his donations impacted the residents. Knowing they’ll have a clean, safe place to stay, to shower and wash their clothes, to get a good meal—you don’t realize how dehumanizing it is not to have that stuff until it’s gone.
Nate and I never talked about what would happen if he fired me. We agreed that he’d fund the shelter as long as I accepted rides home from his driver. But what if there wasn’t a job to drive me homefrom? If something I do messes up the CHG deal, does that put the whole shelter in danger?
I take a long deep breath. Now’s not the time to start worrying. I might have made us late to the meeting, but I’m going to make damn sure that’s the end of any issues on my end.
I’m debating whether Nate would prefer a cinnamon bun or a good-old-fashioned blueberry muffin when I catch a whiff of overpowering musky cologne.
“I was just looking for something sweet, myself,” Kyle says. He stands next to me, way closer than he has to. “My assistant ordered these from Le Bergamot. Have you been there?”
“No. It’s my first time in New York.” My waitress instincts kick in and I find myself smiling and making eye contact with the jerk. I can practically hear Pippa chastising me.
You don’t have to be nice to him! He’s not tipping you!
Kyle grins at me, exposing his expensive, over-white veneers. “Your first time, huh? We better make this a good trip, then. I know some great places if you want to explore. Maybe a private club?”
I blink at him, trying to come up with a way to politely turn him down. Well, when in doubt, blame the boss. “I think Nate will be keeping me pretty busy.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand. It’s a pretty big contract we’re signing today.” Kyle puts his hand on my waist, and every muscle in my body tenses. “It’s important to invest in our working relationship.”
My waitress smile freezes in place. How the hell do I defuse this? I try taking a step back, but Kyle uses me moving as an opportunity to slide his hand down to my hip.
“Remove your hand from my assistant,” Nate says. His voice arctic cold.
I practically jump away from Kyle, abandoning the coffees on the table. I know how this must look. So much for being a professional assistant. I can feel my face turning red with shame. Kyle, on the other hand, smirks unabashedly.
“Just being friendly,” he says. “You’ve got a nice girl here. Such a pretty smile.”
“You think so?” Nate’s entire aura turns frigid, dangerous like black ice on the highway. “Because I invoice by the smile,Kyle,and you can’t afford hers.”
