3. Dangerous

Katherine

 

“Come in,” his voice booms from behind the closed door.

My breath hitches when I push open the heavy office door. Cerulean eyes look tentatively up at me from under long dark lashes. His dark hair is neatly cropped and styled back.

“Mr. Walker.”

I walk further into the large room approaching the front of his desk with my hand outstretched. “I’m Kat Young. Your new assistant.”

He doesn’t stand up to greet me, preferring to stay seated in the leather chair behind his desk. His nostrils flare when I slip my hand into his to shake and something close to a static shock shoots up my hand. His eyes fly to where our hands are connected before finding my face again.

Letting go of my hand he motions for me to take a seat at one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. Leaning back in his chair, he rests his elbows on the armrests and steeples his fingers in front of him, his eyes narrowing on me.

“So, Katherine, I assume the rest of my staff has been welcoming to you. I do apologize for my absence during your first week, but that trip could not have been postponed.”

“It’s Kat,” I correct, absently playing with the bracelet around my right wrist.

“Kat,” he repeats, a flicker in his blue eyes.

My name on his lips does something to my body that I can’t really explain. His voice sends waves of shivers up my body. There’s almost something sinister in it.

I should be paying attention to what he’s saying but I’m not hearing a single word. Everything else fades away as the rest of my senses are honed in on his body. The way he carries himself, even just sitting behind his black marble desk.

The way he fills out every inch of his custom-made Italian suit. The slight stubble lining his jaw, not enough to be considered a beard but just enough to make him slightly more good looking. His lips are curled up into a smirk and it’s then that I realize he’s no longer speaking.

Good job, Kat. Way to make an impression with this first meeting.

“I’m sorry. What was that last part?”

“I’d like you to sit in on the meeting with the new client next week. Gail usually does it and takes the meeting minutes but she’s requested that day off so you must take over for her. Will that be a problem, Kat?”

“No, Sir.”

“Great. You can start gathering all the information from her after you get my coffee. A double espresso. And I need you to research the client’s new hotel chain and give me everything you find.”

I can feel his eyes track me as I make my way out of his office. It makes me want to cover my behind with my hands and scamper out of his office, willing him to stop looking at my ass. It’s not like I’m even wearing a form fitting skirt.

 

***

 

During my research, I find that one of the client’s new hotels houses dolphins. My heart sinks with the realization that the company I work for is supporting a business that thinks it’s okay to glorify mammals in captivity. It goes against everything I stand for.

But there’s a possibility that Mr. Walker might have no idea where these dolphins come from. Now I have a dilemma. Do I tell him? Do I up and quit? Or do I keep my head down and my mouth shut?

Only two of those don’t go against the type of person I am, and I quite like my job. It’s decided; I’ll take him the information I’ve found and then ask if he knew where they acquire their dolphins.

My palms are sweaty as I push open his office door after I’ve knocked.

“I have that research you asked for,” I hold up the file in front of me as I approach his desk.

“Thank you. You can just set it down.” He doesn’t look up from the papers he’s signing.

I do as he says and place the file on his desk off to the side. I run my hands down my pencil skirt nervously and almost chicken out before straightening my spine and taking a deep breath.

“Sir? There’s something in the research of their hotel chain that bothered me.”

He glances up from his paperwork, his blue eyes unnerving me, his pen stopping mid-sign. “What is it?”

Suddenly, with his eyes and full attention locked on me, my throat goes dry and all thought leaves me and I can’t remember what I was planning on saying. Not because I’m attracted to him, even though he’s a good-looking guy, but there’s something not quite right with the way he looks at me. The way his gaze rakes over my body makes me uncomfortable.

Damnit, there was a reason I brought it up…

“Kat,” he prompts.

Oh right! Dolphins.

“Do you know where they get the dolphins for the aquariums at their hotels?”

He drops the pen on the stack of papers and intertwines his fingers in front of his face. “No, can’t say that I do. Is there something wrong?”

This is it.

This is my opportunity to tell him about everything I’ve learned and researched in the last six years on this issue.

“Sir-“

“David,” he corrects with a raised eyebrow.

“David,” I repeat. “Any dolphins in captivity are more than ninety-percent likely to come from this cove where fishermen drive in thousands every year.” I don’t take a breath before continuing, in fear that he might cut me off. “Of these thousands, only a few get chosen for life in captivity in an aquarium, or swim-with-dolphin programs at a hotel or resort. The rest are brutally and inhumanely slaughtered. David, I know the financial benefits that this client could bring to your company but this is something that I’ve been researching and been passionate about for years. So even if you continue with this business relationship, I still had to do my part and let you know.”

For the first time since I started talking I take a breath and then prepare myself for the backlash.

The backlash that never comes.

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time, choosing to sit there staring at me. Finally, he drops his hands and leans back in his chair. His eyes still piercing mine.

“Well,” he exhales hard, “this really is something you’re passionate about, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“You’re right. The client could have significant financial benefits for this company.”

I nod. “They could.”

“Is everything in there? Including some research on that cove?” he asks, pointing one long masculine finger at the file I had placed on his desk.

“It is.”

“I’ll take a look at it, but I’m not promising anything,” he warns.

A grin splits across my face. “Thank you.”

 

***

 

The rest of the week goes by in a blur with phone calls, emails, scheduling and rescheduling his entire next week as things come up and others get changed.

The meeting with the new client goes off without a hitch and I’m even surprised with myself for being able to keep up with taking notes for the minutes. It also helped that David, uh, Mr. Walker, kept repeating everyone’s name when he would respond to their question or comment. I knew he was doing it for my benefit and I appreciated it. He gave me a heads up beforehand that he wasn’t bringing up the dolphin issue in the meeting but promised me that he would be calling a private conference with the client to discuss it.

I’m unplugging my laptop and gathering up the charger to move back to my desk when David walks up to me and clears his throat.

“I need those minutes by the end of the day.”

“That’s in three hours.”

He smirks, sticking one hand in his designer suit pants. “Yes. Will that be a problem, Ms. Young?”

“N-No. No problem,” I stammer like a fucking idiot.

What is it with this man and my inability to form a coherent sentence. He is my boss, for god’s sake! I couldn’t be thinking about my boss.

Two and a half hours later, I inhale deeply through my nose before knocking on the heavy wood door to his office. My knuckles only connect with the door once before it’s swinging open and then he’s standing there. Looking sexy as hell.

His suit jacket isn’t on and the sleeves of his white button up shirt are rolled up to his elbows, making his arms somehow look even bigger. His royal blue tie is hanging loose around his neck and the two top buttons of his shirt are undone.

“Katherine, come in.” He opens the door wider before walking over to the makeshift bar on one side of the room.

“It’s Kat.”

“Kat,” he says over his shoulder.

The hairs on the back of my neck still stand up every time I hear him say my name.

“Scotch?” he asks, holding up a crystal tumbler.

“No, I’m okay. I’m still on the job.”

“Just one, and I promise I won’t tell the boss,” he grins.

“Just one,” I laugh nervously, as he hands me a second tumbler. “Thank you, Mr. Walker.”

“Please, call me David,” he says, taking a seat on the couch next to the bar and gesturing for me to join him.

“David,” I repeat.

He smiles approvingly and I watch as the hand holding his glass raises it up to his lips. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs with the sip.

“I have those meeting minutes you requested.” I hand him the file folder.

He accepts the folder but doesn’t open it, lacing it, instead, on the glass coffee table in front of us.

“You’re not going to check it?”

“I trust that everything is in order. I’ll read through it later if I need to.”

“I’ll email a copy to everyone who was present at the meeting and those who were supposed to be there but couldn’t make it then,” I respond, moving to get up.

“Please stay and finish your drink. The minutes can wait ‘til tomorrow to be emailed,” he says, placing a warm hand on my knee.

“Okay,” I gulp, subtly moving my knee causing his hand to fall away.

“So, Kat. Tell me about yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I wasn’t able to be at your interview and I missed your first week here at the office. You’re supposed to be my assistant and I don’t know you at all. So, tell me about yourself.”

I watch in confusion as he gets up to refill our glasses before coming back and sitting down closer to me than he was before.

“Uh, okay. I just recently graduated with my—”

“I don’t want your professional resume, Kat. I could just look that up if I needed to. I mean, tell me about you. Where did you grow up? Do you have any siblings?”

Another nervous laugh escapes before I can will it back. “Why?”

He chuckles. “Call me old fashioned but I like to get to know all my employees. That now includes you.”

I give in, his reasoning makes sense. I needed to stop thinking the worst about people. “Well, I was born and raised in the GTA. Scarborough, to be exact. I’m an only child. And before you ask, no, I’m not close with my parents,” I say in all one breath. I really hope that he doesn’t ask why. I don’t want to think of my parents right now. I put them behind me the minute I turned eighteen and moved out.

But exactly like I knew he would, he asks anyways.

“Why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why aren’t you close with your parents?”

I sigh. “Because they’re not nice people and the minute I was legally old enough to, I moved out.”

He doesn’t say anything after that but his hand finds its way back on my knee and starts roaming up. I push his hand away and cross my legs which probably wasn’t the smartest idea because his gaze heats when it lands on my bare leg.

“What about you?” I ask, hoping to distract him and draw him back into the conversation.

“What about me?” His lips pull up in a smirk.

“This whole getting-to-know-me thing is a two-way street.”

His smirk morphs into a grin as he’s placing his glass on the table before settling back into the couch resting his ankle over his other knee.

“All right, I was born and raised in White Rock. I have a younger brother.  And my mom died from cancer several years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

“Is that lime I taste?” I ask after taking another sip of the smooth scotch.

He laughs, “It is. It’s an twenty-year-old Glenfiddich. It has a vanilla aroma with hints of banana but then the taste has hints of lime, ginger, and spice.”

“I can see why you like it.”

“You do?” His hand is back to its roaming on my leg and I’ve about had it.

How many times do I have to keep moving his hand away before he gets the fucking message? I place my still full glass on the glass table and stand.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Walker, but it’s been a long day and I need to be getting home.”

“I was about to order some take-out. Why don’t you stay and have a bite with me?”

Damn, this guy is persistent. I want to tell him to fuck off but he’s my boss and I really like my job.

“I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” I’m surprised my voice came out sounding so polite, since that’s the furthest thing from I’m feeling right now.

David gets up and moves towards me, forcing me to back into the corner. His knuckles come up to graze down the side of my face. “Stay. Have dinner with me.”

His lips are within inches of mine. His breath smells like scotch, and if I didn’t know any better I would think that he had been drinking all day. And maybe he had.

His knuckles continue their way down the side of my neck, and then over the mound of my breast.

Fuck it. I don’t need this job bad enough to sleep with my boss. Grabbing the hand roaming down one of my breasts, I twist his arm into the most uncomfortable position behind his back. Bringing my mouth close to his ear, I hiss, “don’t ever touch me again.”

I don’t stick around long enough to hear his retort. Pushing open his office door and letting it slam closed behind me, I hightail it down the stairs to the ground floor.