“There’s a lot of people asking to talk to you, Mr. Graves,” she says. “I’m roasting out here. I’m ready to swim up to that bar over there. Ellie?”
I grit my teeth. Jocelyn has always been very good at her job. Maybe a little too attentive. She’s like a puppy, nipping at my heels if I don’t give her enough to do. And her timing is terrible, always showing up at the most inconvenient times.
Annelise looks up at me, and I nod. I know that half of this deal is talking to the other owners. There’s no reason she shouldn’t enjoy herself. As the girls step off into the pool, I go over to the main pool bar and order a beer. It’s too fucking hot for whiskey, and the suit I’m wearing is killing me. I take pride in always being put together. There’s never so much as even a wrinkle in my suit, let alone fucking sweat stains.
“Somebody didn’t get the memo that this is a pool party.” Diego appears next to me wearing salmon-colored swim trunks and a white linen button-down, open.
“I’m not here to swim,” I say flatly as the bartender hands me a draft beer. At least the glass is chilled. I turn to lean against the bar and narrow my vision over the pool. Sweeping the crowd of wet bikinis, I lock my eyes on Annelise. She is at the swim-up bar with a pink cocktail in her hand and a soft smile on her lips.
“None of us are here to swim,” Diego says. “But we can still enjoy ourselves. On the bright side, Decker’s not here.”
I look around at all the other men gathered around the main bar, as well as the handful sitting at the swim-up bar. “I guess he isn’t, is he,” I confirm, taking another sip of the icy cold ale.
“He wasn’t invited,” Diego goes on, stirring his cocktail. “Not that formal invitations were sent out. Either way, I think you’ve got everyone in your corner because all the men made it pretty obvious he isn’t welcome.”
“He doesn’t belong in the business,” I say.
“No. No, he does not. But you know who obviously does…?” he asks, and his eyes follow mine to the pool. To the bar. To Annelise laughing at something Jocelyn is saying. “You really hit the jackpot, boss.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek for a second. “She’s only my assistant,” I tell him, and I don’t have to look at him to know he’s grinning.
“I never said otherwise,” he says, nursing whatever fruity cocktail he ordered. Everything he says is irritating, but he’s not wrong. Watching her in the pool, laughing easily, talking freely, she’s not just good at her job, she’s amazing at it. Not just her job, but the entire industry.
After the party, I give her the rest of the day off. It’s not that I don’t need her. I need a moment in my office to myself. I need to clear my head. I was mildly standoffish with her this morning because of what happened last night. Conversation came easy to us once we were alone, and the sex wasn’t just good, it was primal. Something about Annelise Bates–Ellie–is like a drug, and I need to detox for a second.
I also need to look at her resume. Maybe it’s careless that I haven’t so much as read past her name and address, but from the moment I saw her, from the small bulleted conversation we had, I never needed to.
I sit here at my desk and can’t help but wonder what it says. I have never really cared about any of my assistants’ lives outsideof their credentials. Things that qualified them for the job. If they caught my attention, that was icing on the cake. It makes me sound like a dick, but I’ve never twisted anyone’s arm. The women who worked for me have always wanted the job. Every…part…of the job.
I wiggle the mouse on my desk, and my computer wakes up. I click into the employee files. Even though I usually let others handle the logistics of these things, I do have access to it, and I have no issue finding hers.
Annelise Joanna Bates.
Joanna…
It’s poetic. Hypnotic, even.
I don’t skim the resume as I usually do. I read every word, combing through every detail. As expected, her work history is flawless, from schooling to the last job she had at a hotel that, while not in the same league as the Redwood, is still notable. It’s a bit strange that her employment there ended rather abruptly. Especially considering it was right before what I assume would have been the height of her career. After that, she worked regular, mediocre jobs. Then a three month hiatus before a million small, low-paying, low status jobs.
It doesn’t add up. Something is not adding up. There’s no more information after that, a request for specific hours. Preferably no nights, unless not on short notice. I shift my focus to her address and look it up. Then I swallow hard. It’s a small, older house in a part of the city that is neither nice nor dangerous.
I lean back in my chair and rub my chin. Annelise is as mysterious as she is profound, and it only makes her that much more intriguing. I have a rule when it comes to intrigue–avoid it. Intrigue leads to interest. Interest to desire. Desire to attachment. I’ve never desired anything enough to be attached to it, and I don’t intend to start now.
Chapter 26
Ellie
Istill smell like coconut oil, and I have no desire to wash it off.
Everything about the party was bliss, and ever since I got home, I’ve been replaying the details in my head. While I didn’t spend a whole lot of time with Damien, it was beyond lovely to be able to hang out in the pool, sipping a Salty Dog and chatting with the other hotel employees. Even though I am just Damien’s assistant, it gave off the vibe that I was back in the industry, at my old job before everything that was ruined by a name I refuse to mention because I don’t want to ruin this moment.
It wasn’t too shabby that I could feel Damien’s brooding eyes on me the entire time, too. The fact that he allowed me to be more than an arm’s reach away the entire time, drinking and socializing, and having conversations he couldn’t monitor gave me a sense of power. It made me feel like there was some sort of small shift between us. Like maybe, on some small level, he is starting to trust me.
Right now, though, I am not over thinking anything. After we left, Damien was his normal quiet self on the wonderfully air conditioned car ride back to the Redwood other than softly telling me I could take the rest of the day off. It was around threein the afternoon, and Luca was getting out of school and heading to his friend Teddy’s house for a sleepover. That meant I would have an entire, luxurious afternoon and evening to myself, which also means wine and Bridgerton.
I rent a small home far away enough from the strip that I don’t feel the chaos of it, but close enough that I can still see the skyline lights at night. I pick up laundry and Luca’s toys. I clean the kitchen and vacuum, making everything feel organized and fresh. As a single mom with an unpredictable job, it’s easy to let things go a little on a daily basis and fall into the pit of survival mode. An afternoon to hit the reset button is wonderful.
I have the second season of Bridgerton playing in the background as I pour myself another glass of wine and scroll through Thai restaurants that deliver when suddenly there’s a knock at the door.
