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Impossible Bachelor (Bachelor Tower Series, Book 2) by Ruth Cardello (7)

Kylie

Owing to the total value of the assets and liabilities listed in Section One.

I’ve read that line in this acquisition agreement six times. Every time I try to read any farther an image of Ben last night and the memory of our kiss flashes through my mind. I tell myself I hate him, but the heat pulsing through me isn’t anger.

As far as our non-date went: Ben: 2 Me: 0

That score can’t stand. I don’t lose.

I still can’t believe I kissed him. I should have a CAT scan done on my brain, but I’m afraid of what it would show. Every woman eventually experiences a Ben—a mistake that feels worth making.

But they never are. I’ve learned that the hard way. Sometimes the better it seems the worse it will end.

Maybe I should let myself off the hook. It was one kiss. It’s not like I slept with him or I have any intention of spending more time with him.

I think about the story he shared with me about tracking down that boy at his college and defending the girl he thought he loved. It’s easy to imagine him in that scenario. Just as easy to imagine him smiling with a bloodied lip, saying it was worth it. But was it? He didn’t actually love her. Isn’t that the point I should walk away with? Nothing, not even something as noble as a young man’s infatuation, holds up over time.

I kissed him because I wanted to prove I could and walk away. The problem is I almost didn’t. Had it not been for my wall of push pins and targets, I might have yanked him inside and ridden him all night. That’s a part of my life I will keep to myself. Penny’s reaction solidified that.

Our kiss was that good. His tongue that tantalizing. His grip on me that fierce. Dominating. For a man who takes a softer and calculated approach to life he is strong in all the right ways.

I read the line in the contract again and scold myself. Get your shit together Kylie. Distraction is the death of productivity. Relationships only work when they are kept under control. Clint doesn’t stop me from getting work done. He barely stops me from getting work done while we’re at dinner or in bed. I’m usually making a to-do list or mentally answering emails. But last night with Ben I hardly thought about work or the plans I have for the men in Bachelor Tower.

That realization rocks me. That’s it. I can’t kiss Ben again. Unlike Clint, he won’t go away. He’ll be right there—everyday—distracting me from what’s important.

I screwed up, but I need to get my head straight. I cover my face with my hands and lay it down on my laptop. Too bad people don’t have a reboot button.

“I did it!” My assistant, Tabby, bursts through my door waving a small piece of paper. “Can you believe it?”

“What?” I say, jumping as she startles me.

“Are you okay?” She cocks her head to one side, looking concerned.

“Yeah. Just a headache.” I wonder if there are impressions from the keyboard on my forehead. A lie is a hell of a lot safer than the truth.

“Need some ibuprofen?”

“No. No. I took something. I’ll be fine in a minute. What’s up?”

She smiles. “I got his number. It took me three weeks and a ridiculous amount of strategizing, but I got Pierre Mondale’s phone number. You want me to get him on the line so you can set up the meeting?”

“No.” I take the paper she’s waving at me, but my head is still spinning. “I’ll wait and call him tomorrow.” I need to be sharp when I have that conversation.

Tabby looks at me with concern again as she pushes her long dark hair off her shoulders with her bright red fingernails. She’s all color. Pops of eye shadow and gold jewelry but it’s tasteful.

Before Tabby, I went through a lot of assistants. A lot. I have no patience for lazy, late, or incompetence in general. She’s still here because she’s good. She’s whip smart and her potential is high. She actually reminds me of myself when I was younger. Hopefully she won’t have to learn lessons the hard way like I did.

The major difference between us now is Tabby has that one thing I had to leave behind: likability. People gravitate toward her. She’s fun and funny. I had to slice those parts of myself away years ago because they’re too easily mistaken for weakness. That was the cost of getting to where I am today.

Someday she’ll see trying to please others is holding her back and she’ll wise up. The thought makes me a little sad. I wish nice people weren’t always the first to be shoved aside.

Of course, I also wish I didn’t have to pay taxes but there’s nothing I can fucking do about that either.

“Are you sure?” Tabby narrows her eyes. “You never wait on anything. It’s always go go go. I thought this meeting with Pierre was a top priority. You don’t want to know what I had to do for that phone number.”

“Just leave the number.” It’s none of her business when or who I call.

“Of course.” She looks hurt.

I tap my pen on the desk and sigh. “I don’t mean to sound short.”

Instead of leaving as I expect her to, she steps farther into my office and closes the door behind her. “I get it. You don’t feel good. Did something happen?”

“No.” Ben happened. “Nothing important anyway.”

“Ben?” Tabby whispers through her smile. “Did you meet someone?”

Shit. Did I say his name out loud? I lie and shake my head. “I would never let a man distract me.”

“Not even Ben?”

I flush. Dammit. She’s smarter than I give her credit for. “Can I ask you a question?” My request surprises even me. I don’t open up to people, and if I did I certainly would not to someone who works for me.

“Of course.” Tabby takes a seat across from my desk and crosses her legs. It’s like looking in a mirror at a much, much younger me. What would I say to myself if I had that opportunity? What would I ask?

“What do you think is my most likable quality?” I lower my voice. “If I have one.”

“Kylie.” Tabby leans in and purses her lips. “Is this about the acquisition meeting this morning? Did one of those jerks say something about you? Don’t listen to them. Men don’t know what to do with a woman like you. It fries their tiny brains. They’re turned on and impressed but also intimidated and scared. It’s overload.”

“This isn’t about them.”

She gives me a long look. I can’t explain my question if she asks because I’m still figuring it out myself.

She knows me well enough to understand she’s not leaving here without answering. Folding her hands together she lays them in her lap. “Most likeable? That’s tough.”

I rub a hand over my forehead. Some things are better not asked.

In a lighter tone, she says, “I like a lot of things about you. You’re fair and you’re tough. Things around here are never dull. The best part of my day is when you put some smug jackass in his place, and I get to watch. When you walk out of a meeting first, I’m left in there to see the looks on everyone’s faces; it’s epic. You are powerful, brave, and cunning. I wish I were more like you.”

“You don’t,” I say, waving her off. “Trust me on that.”

“You’re a woman at the top.” Tabby looks at me with empathy. “I don’t know what you had to do to get where you are, but I respect it. For the rest of us, the ones still trying to get out from under the nonsense, it means everything to see you up there. It inspires me.”

“Okay.” I stand up. I shouldn’t have asked someone whose income relies on my generosity. “That’s all for now.”

She stands as well. “I mean it. You took a pick to the glass ceiling and shattered it. People who judge you for that are jealous that they haven’t done the same.”

“I appreciate that.”

“You know what I appreciate? You give back as much as you ask for. I haven’t forgotten when my father had a heart attack last year and I needed to take more time than I had sick days. You made sure I had Family Medical Leave. You made sure I got paid.”

“I didn’t want to lose you. You’re my first assistant who’s worth keeping.”

“I’ll take that compliment.” Tabby smiles. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but you’re a good boss. Not an easy person to get to know, but you didn’t hire me to be your friend.”

I sit on that for a moment. I draw hard lines between my business and my personal life—hell, even within my personal life. It’s neater that way. If I’m honest with myself—safer too.

I like Tabby. She’s not only smart, but she’s honest as well. It might be time to start giving her more responsibilities. I see a promotion in her future on the condition that she finds me an equally qualified assistant.

I’d tell her, but she’d get all emotional, and I don’t do well in situations like that. “Thanks Tabby. You can go. Email me the contact information.”

Tabby stands but hesitates. “Can I say one more thing?”

Oh, boy. “Sure.”

“I know it’s none of my business, but I’ve never seen you doubt yourself. My mother always told me the right man would love me the way I am. If this guy doesn’t see you for the inspirational powerhouse you are—he’s not worth it.”

My mother always said the joy of the ride is over as soon as you hand over the keys to a man.” I hear the bitterness in my own voice, and it’s ugly. This is a side of me I don’t like, but it’s a part of me. I stand and smooth my skirt.

Tabby’s expression softens at my tone. “See, and I would say that’s when it starts to get interesting. I wouldn’t want to be with a man who controlled me, but I don’t want one I can push around, either.” She winks. “Unless he was into that.”

I laugh and wave for Tabby to go. I’m already distracted enough without letting my mind wander to what kinky things Ben might be into.

With a final smile, Tabby ducks out and closes the door behind her.

My phone beeps with a text.

Ben: I’ve booked us a lunch date.

I fiddle with my phone and type about three refusals and delete them all. I don’t have time for a lunch, but I also don’t seem to be able to get past the first line on this document. I can sit here and be unproductive or I can face Ben and tell him this has to stop. Seeing him again will help me remember how ludicrous it is to waste time wondering how we’d be together.

I know how it would be: Good, then very, very bad.

Me: Where?

Ben: Some place perfect for a midday break. Bring your gym bag.

Me: Where are we going?

Ben: It’s a surprise.

My heart is beating wildly in my chest. I want to tell him I’m not interested in another surprise. As a rule, I don’t like them. Another unknown. I should say no. Meeting him like this gives him the upper hand.

I’ll tell him today that we can’t do this anymore.

One last time and that’s it.