Lydia blinks once but doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Her stare is scrutinising, heavy, and it’s almost like she sees right through me.
But when she shakes her head, I release a breath. “Okay.Cade. If you want to stay the way you are, you need to have a plan.”
“And what are you suggesting?” I ask, a little too excited by how my name rolls off her tongue, the way she tests it like she can’t be sure. It makes me wonder how many other ways I can make her say it.
Knock it off, I think, mentally slapping myself for eventhinkingthat. She’s my employee—well, Tobias’s employee. But she’s also a decade younger than me, and the last thing she needs is an asshole billionaire lusting after her. Especially after what I’ve done—what I could do.
“You need to fill your position,” she says, going back to her laptop. “We need to find you a COO. Someone who can step in for you.”
“The company is run by my aunt,” I reply.
“An aunt who wants you to take over.” Lydia doesn’t look up from the screen as she types something. “Which will make you CEO when she eventually steps down and hands it over to you. You still take over but just have your newly appointed COO oversee the company for you.”
“Doesn’t mean I won’t have to deal with shareholders and the board,” I mutter under my breath. That’s still more work than I want. It still might mean giving all of this up.
“And that’s exactly why I’m here.” She finally looks up, a pleased smile forming on her lips.
“What is your plan?” I deadpan, trying to ignore how she manages to have my heart pounding from the twinkle in her eyes, a devious glint playing within them.
“It’s the only plan we have,” she replies. “Your board needs to see you as more than just an Abernathy nepo baby who can’t do the job. They’ll respect you more if you show them you really want to do what’s best for the company—which is leave it in the hands of someone much more capable of doing the work you don’t want to do.”
“Or it’ll make me look weak.” I plant my hands on the counter, leaning towards her.
“Or,” she says, hopping off the stool and rounding the island, “it makes you trustworthy. Out here, you’re an enigma. A sad story.” I stiffen, but that doesn’t stop her from coming aroundto my side of the island, suddenly close—too close. Her perfume tickles my nose, vanilla and something a little deeper.Too damn tempting to bode well for me.
“But if you show them you’re changing, then you’ll open yourself up to being relatable,” she concludes, staring up at me with those serious yet devious eyes. “Most of them want the company to succeed. They have families to take care of, and they don’t want to consider what might happen if you aren’t cut out for the job. Then theywillfight your position. It’ll also show you’re ready to take responsibility seriously. This isn’t weakness—it’s good business. It gives you an opportunity to still be in control but keep your focus elsewhere—outside of the company.”
My aunt tried this once, years ago. Wanted me to settle down, find myself a nice wife, marry, and then take over for her. She wanted to show her board that I had what it takes to be a leader. That I was done being a party boy who slept around and made myself well known to the tabloids thanks to the lodge.
Then the fire hit, and she let it go.
But maybe she’s introduced Lydia as more than just a pawn in her game for something else. Maybe she wants more than just the Sterling name. My aunt has always been a tricky woman, but would she stoop so low as to wave this beautiful woman in front of me in the hopes I do exactly as she wants?
I know why they picked her. I understand it from a business perspective and PR one.
She’s perfect; daughter of the town, beautiful, sweet. She’s immune to getting attached to me because she has goals of her own.
Though the longer I stare at her, the more worried I become. Because she might not get attached. But after so long being afraid of leaving this cabin, of being alone, would I?
BREAKING NEWS:IS RECLUSIVE BILLIONAIRE HIDING FROM MORE THAN JUST RESPONSIBILITY?
Heir to Abernathy fortune, Cade Abernathy, caught in a compromising position with a much younger, unidentified woman. Captured?—
I slam the tablet down and scrub a hand down my face, fingers trembling. The image of me holding Lydia, trying my best to hide her, is burned into my mind.
My hand twitches towards a bottle of whiskey I’ve hidden beside my sofa, precisely for the type of PR crisis this might cause. It’s taken a lot of strength not to down the bottle in one sitting. And with Lydia just rooms away, I don’t dare try.
“You look like you want to strangle something,” the woman in question says.
I glance at her and stop. Dark hair flows down her back in soft waves, half pulled up by a clip. She’s wearing a t-shirt too big for her and a pair of workout shorts that give me the perfect view of her legs. Thighs smooth and thick, pressed together in a way that leaves me hungry for more.
I clear my throat and trail my eyes up to her face. “What?”
Lydia presses her lips together and just shakes her head. “I have an idea.” She moves to the sofa and drops onto the leather, one leg curled beneath her, the other swinging back and forth as she watches me. “I know you aren’t going to like it, but I’m only doing my job.”
My stomach twists uncomfortably, but not from her words. It’s because of how close she is, how tempting her entire presence is to me.
“It’s after 7,” I reply, coughing, shifting so her legs aren’t in my direct line of sight. “We don’t need to do anything else today.”
