Chapter Seven

ISABELLA

The next morning as I step onto the elevator with Adam, I can’t help but notice how distracted he is. Most days, he begins with a clear head, calm and ready to take on the world. Today, he seems anything but.

“Are you alright?” I ask, slipping my hand into his, my chest warming when he turns to me and gives me a quick nod.

“Yes, baby. I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot on my plate with work this week,” he admits, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Thank you for bringing your things for work this morning. It gave us both a little more time.”

“You’re welcome,” I return his smile, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to help you with your work stuff?”

“That’s sweet of you to offer, but no. I don’t think so,” he shakes his head. When the doors open, I move to step out, but he doesn’t for a moment, instead staring down at me in thought. “Actually, there might be,” he corrects himself, leading us out. “What do you know about the Miller-Hughes account?”

“Some, but just the developmental stages,” I admit as I climb into the back of the town car that’s waiting downstairs in his garage. He slips inside beside me, reaching for my hand and keeps his attention on me as we pull away. “Our department was in charge of some of the boards and pitch ideas for the factoring deal we made with them about a month ago. I know their starting numbers and what we were able to present for their campaign, but not much else. Sabrina sat in on all the meetings for that account and isn’t too keen on keeping me in the loop once things leave my desk unless I screw something up.”

“How much do you remember about the initial projections?” he asks, glancing at his phone as he pulls up a spreadsheet.

“All of it,” I shrug. “It’s been a month since I put it together, so I may need to take a quick look to refresh my memory, but otherwise…”

“You did this?” he asks, clearly surprised when I nod. “What about the boards? Pitches? Was that also you?”

“Well, that is my job, Mr. Avery,” I wink playfully.

“I think that’s debatable,” he says, kissing my hair as the we pull into his private garage at Avery Financial. I’m about to ask him what he means when his door opens, pulling my attention. “Come, darling.”

“Should I take the main entrance?”

“Not at all,” he insists, tugging me toward his private elevator.

“What if someone sees us?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shakes his head, pulling me inside and pressing the button that will take us to our floor. “Once we’re officially inside, I’ll behave. Until then, however…”

His palm smacks my ass hard enough to pull a yelp from me before he bends to give me a deep kiss, his free hand landing on my breast as he gives my nipple a sharp pinch. He cages me in, my back hitting the wall behind him as his lips run down my throat while his hands roam over me with abandon, his fingers ravaging me through the thin fabric of my blouse. His hips graze my belly just enough for me to feel how hard he is, pulling his name from my chest in a needy whimper. My mind is reeling, my heart racing by the time I hear the ding that signals our arrival. He pulls away, one hand still gripping onto the bar behind me to keep my knees from giving out as I pant up at him, my thighs rubbing together in need. He releases a low hum, pulling my eyes to find him straightening his tie, seemingly unaffected otherwise.

“Miss Baxter,” he smirks.

“Mr. Avery,” I breathe, the hitch of my voice making him chuckle darkly as he shoots me an inconspicuous wink and steps out.

“Have a nice day.”

“You, too,” I manage, steadying myself before I attempt to exit the elevator and head toward my desk.

“Oh, Miss Baxter?” he calls out, the soft, husky voice I’ve grown so used to immediately replaced with that of Adam Avery, CEO.

“Yes?”

“Be in my office in fifteen minutes,” he commands, glancing down at his phone for a moment before looking back at me. “Don’t be late.”

“Yes, Sir,” I agree quickly, the formality making his eyes twinkle slightly before he pulls his phone to his ear and heads for his office.

Thirteen minutes later, I’m standing at his office door, my nerves spiking when I tap gently on the frame.

“Come in.”

His deep voice offers me some comfort, but I’m still on edge as I push through and find him sitting behind his desk, scouring over something on his laptop.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes,” he nods, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Have a seat.”

I do as he asks and as my legs touch the leather, I’m reminded of how vastly different things had been the first time Adam beckoned me to his office. I’ve not been in here many times since, but each experience between that one and this have been glaringly different.

For the first time since, I’m nervous about being alone with Adam.

His attention stays locked on the screen, his finger slowly sliding over the mousepad every so often the only sound coming from his side of the desk for far too long. My palms begin to sweat and I’m nearing the point of screaming when his eyes flit up to mine.

“You seem nervous.”

“I am,” I admit immediately as I clear my throat.

“Why?” he asks, leaning back into his seat, finally giving me his attention.

“I don’t know,” I say quietly, the quirk of his eyebrow making me stifle an eye roll. “I’m not lying!” I insist. “But I am curious. You never call me in here and make me sit across from you like this. Am I in trouble for something?”

“Why would you automatically assume you’re in trouble?” he asks, stroking his jaw as his eyes narrow slightly. “Are you the person who so aggressively broke my twenty-thousand-dollar photocopier?”

“What? No!” I insist, pulling a light chuckle from him. “Did somebody really do that?”

“It was a joke, but yes,” he smirks. “Calm down. You’re not in trouble. I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Oh,” I reply dumbly, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Okay, what about?”

“Your job,” he says immediately, leaning back into his seat. “You know I’ve been acclimating myself with your department since my arrival?” he begins, pulling a nod from me. “You’ve been with the company for four years now, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Very good,” he says calmly, his eyes still trained on me. “Why don’t you walk me through your typical day here, Isabella?”

“All of it?”

“Start to finish, kitten.”

“Okay,” I shrug. “Well, I almost always spend the first hour or so returning emails and going over Sabrina’s schedule for the day. As you know, she’s in charge of new clients and discovery, so if there’s a potential on the list or someone she’s scheduled to meet with, I’ll spend the next few hours researching.”

“Researching how? What types of things do you look into?”

“Mostly their numbers and success rates with previous campaigns, turnaround for us, things like that. Once I’ve done that, she asks that I submit a detailed report to her as well as an overview of what we’re able to offer them and if she feels like they’re a good prospect, I begin preparing a proposal and the initial steps of each campaign. Depending on how much they want and their relationship with the company, I’ll also work on projections and pitches for upcoming presentations.”

“And how many hours per day would you say you spend doing things like that?”

“I’m really not sure,” I answer honestly. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say at least five? Maybe six?”

His expression goes stoic for a moment as he strokes his jaw before he glances down at a stack of paperwork, handing me the file on top.

“Are you familiar with this project?”

I take a quick look, recognizing the work immediately as my own and give him a nod.

“Yes,” I begin. “Yes, this was for the Milgon Grove account. I worked with Sabrina on this a few months back. There were a few discrepancies with rebranding, but once we were able to work through those, they signed on and the turnaround was quick. Avery accrued an additional seventeen percent for stockholders from this project alone.”

“That’s pretty substantial for such an account. Wouldn’t you agree?” he asks, reaching for another file as I nod. “How about this one?”

“Jackson Beckett. He wanted a sizable loan for a digital campaign with his new branch. It went well, although it was a little more challenging than previous projects we’d done with them.”

“Why?”

“Well, the Beckett family started the company I think close to eighty years ago, so their money isn’t the only thing that’s old, if you know what I mean,” I start, my eyes growing wide in suggestion making him smirk. “Anyway, they weren’t convinced digital marketing was right for them because they worried it would have a negative impact on the personal relationships they’d developed with their existing client base. We nearly lost the contract due to Jackson’s hesitance, but came up with a mockup for the presentation that quite frankly, blew the other candidates out of the water and made it impossible for them to go with anyone else.”

“Whose idea was the mockup?”

His eyes bore into mine across the desk.

I think I have an idea of where he’s going with his questions, but I’ve never been one to take all the credit and run. Maybe that’s why I’ve been stuck in the same position here for four years, maybe not. However, taking away from the hard work coming from the rest of my department seems wrong, so I’m hesitant.

“It was a group decis-”

He sees right through my lie.

“Isabella,” he cuts me off, his voice full of authority that has my belly tingling.

“Mine,” I relent almost immediately. “It was my idea.”

“I thought so,” he nods, glancing back down. “Did you do the projections?”

“Yes, Sir,” I nod, my nerves flaring.

While I’m absolutely certain this isn’t the first time Adam’s looked at my work, I know it’s the first time he’s done it with me sitting in his office. I can’t help the mini-breakdown coursing through my chest as I pull my thumbnail up to my lips and begin biting on the edge of it.

“Don’t bite your nails, darling,” he says as he jots something down, my hand instantly moving to my lap until he hands me another small stack of papers. “What about this one?”

“Horizon Brokers Association,” I say immediately. “We closed on this a few days ago. It was a smaller project, one Sabrina had asked me to spearhead while she was scouting another investor.”

“Do you remember the outcome?” he asks, looking up from his notes.

“No, she didn’t say,” I shake my head. “But I saw they scheduled a follow-up next month, so I have to assume it went well.”

“It did,” he nods, giving me a small, but genuine smile. “Thank you, Isabella. That will be all for right now.”

“Okay,” I say, returning his smile, my nerves not settling in the slightest as I move to stand.

I turn to let myself out and can feel his eyes on me as I reach for the door.

“You’ve impressed me with your work,” he offers, reviving the butterflies in my chest and pulling my eyes to his. “You should be proud.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, his wink sending the butterflies lower this time. “Send Sabrina in on your way out, please.”

Fuck.

“Yes, Sir.”

Sabrina is gone for no more than twenty minutes, but when she returns, I can tell she’s furious. She refuses to meet my eyes and immediately, I begin to panic slightly.

Over the last four years, my work and ability to keep my mouth shut has always been my saving grace with that woman. The way she slams her office door behind her tells me those days are dead and gone.

“Minchia…”

“How fast can you read?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry?” I ask, my cheeks blazing as I turn to find him swallowing a smirk.

“We’re leaving for a meeting in ten minutes with a potential investor,” he says, handing me another file. “They’re scouting companies and are interested in obtaining a sizable loan for rebranding purposes. I’ve already informed Sabrina you’ll be joining us.”

“That explains her delightful mood,” I murmur sarcastically, scanning the pages. “This all seems fairly cut and dry. I think I can read through the preliminaries pretty quickly.”

“Perfect,” he nods. “Let’s go.”