Executive Assistant
Table of Contents
Title Page
Executive Assistant | The Exeuctive Series: Book 2 | KJ Holliday
DEDICATION
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
sEE WHERE THE EXECTIVE SERIES BEGAN...
ANOTHER GREAT READ BY KJ HOLLIDAY
About the Author
Executive Assistant
The Exeuctive Series: Book 2
KJ Holliday
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.
If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case the author has not received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Executive Assistant
Copyright © 2021 KJ Holliday
All rights reserved.
ISBN: (ebook) 978-1-953335-74-6
(print) 978-1-953335-75-3
Inkspell Publishing
207 Moonglow Circle #101
Murrells Inlet, SC 29576
Edited By Yezanira Venecia
Cover Art By Fantasia Frog Designs
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The copying, scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
DEDICATION
For Cat,
Thank you for everything you've done for me.
I'm honored to call you my friend.
PS: I think this makes me the stalker now.
Chapter 1
Katherine Pearson didn’t have many regrets. She didn’t believe in them.
From a very young age, her dad had taught her that all experiences, both good and bad, were how a person developed character. Regardless of how something came about, it was a person’s reaction to the situation, and to those around them, which truly mattered.
Her dad was a wealth of little nuggets of wisdom like that. Sayings like Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth; Be humble but never let people forget who you are; and Good things come to those who wait. Her dad was also the reason she drank like a fish, swore like a sailor, and could fight like a man. Call it the influence of the American military, but being raised by a single dad on what felt like countless military bases had its advantages.
Her childhood molded her into the complex creature she was today, and she didn’t have much she could really qualify as a regret. At twenty-seven years old, she was exactly where she wanted to be. She had a great job, the luck of having her best friend as her boss, an insane shoe collection, and not a single man to fuck it all up.
What else could a girl want other than Louboutin’s and absolutely no drama? Literally nothing.
Hence, why she couldn’t lament any of her past choices, because if any one of the hard situations or decisions she’d faced over the years had turned out any differently, she might not be where she was today.
Still, there were a handful of occurrences she’d rather hadn’t happened. She’d count the time she got bangs right out of college as a valid regret. Her forehead was way too small, and she’d spent the better part of four months looking like a butchered mop until her hair finally grew back. Kat had standing orders for her best friend/boss, Caroline Westbrook, to lock her in an insane asylum if she even mentioned the word “bangs” ever again.
She’d also been one of the unfortunate souls who chose a Zune instead of an iPod when MP3 players came out. The thing had the longevity of one of her relationships and had been useful for all of fifteen seconds before it became ineffective and obsolete. It had, however, firmly cemented her loyalty as an Apple customer, so she couldn’t say it hadn’t worked out.
Then, of course, there was Eric Bowman. In all her life, she’d never been so stupid as to do something like him before, and she hadn’t even really done him.
If she’d only known. If she could only go back in time and stop herself. She’d swing in on some unknown and arguably suspect rope, wearing nothing but black from head to toe, grab herself by her shoulders, and say, “No, Kat, do not look twice at the man in the Hugo Boss suit looking adorably uncomfortable at the bar. Don’t let his prim apology and the look of genuine concern on his face affect you. Do not listen to your very drunk friend Caroline, and let him ‘drive you home.’”
Don’t get in the back seat of his car because, apparently, he had a driver and they could do that.
Do not let him walk you to the door.
When he leaves and bids you goodnight, for god’s sake let him go. Definitely don’t scoff. Don’t insult him, and most certainly, under no circumstances are you allowed to let him finger you in the hallway of your apartment building until you come. Until. You. Actually. Come.
Normally, the events of that evening wouldn’t be cause for concern. In fact, there had been plenty of other nights when a very single Kat wanted nothing more than non-complicated sex. Without a doubt, going to bed after having an orgasm she didn’t have to give herself should have been a win, and she hadn’t thought a single thing about the incident after he’d disappeared into the night. Of course, until four months later, when Kat stood face-to-face with Mr. Hugo Boss, wearing another pristinely starched suit, in the last place she wanted to see him: in front of her desk, at her office, next to her best friend’s soon-to-be husband, being introduced as his brother.
His fucking brother.
That day marked the moment when Kat’s carefree, regretless life became the one thing she hated the most—complicated. It was the day she realized not only was Eric Bowman practically related to her best friend, but he was also everything she hated wrapped up in one overly pressed package. He was rude, strict, judgmental, and had no issue with telling anyone who crossed his path what he thought about their behavior.
Seriously, she’d know.
The moment Eric waltzed back into her life and recognized who she was, he’d vowed to tell her how adamantly and vehemently he disapproved of her. Not just her behavior either; without a hint of apprehension, he made comments on her mannerisms, her appearance, and her profession. He even went as far as chastising her when she dared to say a cuss word in his presence. To her credit, he was being an asshole, so it wasn’t really her fault for telling him so.
Kat hated him from the second she saw him again, and their continued reciprocal hatred made her seriously question how she’d ever thought he was charming. Because over the dozens upon dozens of times they’d been forced together after it was revealed exactly who he was, he had done nothing she would ever describe as enticing. She was still coming to terms with the reality he was going to be a permanent part of her future. Holidays were going to be awkward—in the same way this was; walking out of her best friend’s office and looking him directly in the eyes.
Kat’s lips tightened into a tight bow as she considered him. He was sitting casually in one of the waiting room chair
s, his suit unnaturally crisp, like he’d purchased it only minutes before. He had one leg propped up on the other and a copy of Forbes magazine open in his lap.
She cleared her throat, jabbing her thumb toward the door she’d just walked through. “They’re going to be a while.”
His eyes met hers for too long. The way they did when he was trying to look through her instead of simply at her. “That’s all right, I have time.”
Of course, he did. It was just her luck Eric’s schedule would allow for him to frivolously hang around waiting rooms pestering random support staff. She shook her head as she clipped the few steps to her desk and lowered herself into her ergonomic chair. “I hope you brought earplugs.”
His hand stalled, his head tilting just a fraction toward her. It was the only indication that he had anything to say about her statement. His face didn’t change, almost ever, and, as always, it was a guess as to what he was going to say next. She’d give him one thing; the guy had a phenomenal poker face. He probably fleeced everyone he came across. Though knowing him, he’d most likely never played poker in his life. It wasn’t refined enough. What was a stuffy game the gentry liked to play? Whist? Was Whist still a thing? Or was that just something she’d read in a historical romance novel and willed into the modern-day?
“Pardon?” he asked.
He loved that word. Had since day one. The day when he’d curtly told her goodnight and she’d rounded on him faster than a lunging anaconda. In the back of her mind, a memory surfaced. Shockingly vivid for how much time had passed.
“You’re kidding me, right? Do I have to be any clearer? The reason I let you drive me home was because I assumed you were going to fuck me.”
In her memory, he turned, fixed her with a shrewd look, and said, “Pardon?”
Like it was rocket science. As if it were impossible two gorgeous individuals, Caroline and Colton, or Eric and herself, respectively, would want to have sex. Then, now, ever.
She shook her head and she unlocked her computer screen. “They are probably going to fuck, so I’d try to think of anything else.”
Anything except for the man in front of her. The one who she’d always dislike out of sheer principle.
Kat had always been a bit difficult. Well, a part of her was, but she firmly believed it was in no way her fault she’d never had an orgasm during actual sex. Statistically speaking, she was in the majority. Men usually were so blinded by their own prowess, or the facade of pornography, to ever take appropriate direction. Her previous partners had never cared enough about her actually getting off to try and figure out how to accomplish it. Thank god for a man’s tongue, because up until she’d met Eric, Kat had experienced orgasms two ways: by oral sex or by her own damn self.
It was her tragic reality, and as sorry of a state as it was, she was used to it. She had accepted that the conventional sexual experience wasn’t in the cards for her. Then Eric had come along with his accented voice, his filthy words, his abnormal patience, his magical fingers, and had done the impossible.
There was no way, out of all of the people on earth, both men and women alike, he was the one who stumbled across her and was able to translate the Rosetta Stone of her body. It had to be a fluke: a serious likelihood supported by each increasing hour she spent in his company. Which unfortunately was quite a few. Being the best man and maid of honor to the two people connecting them required it. Luckily the mountains of work for the wedding had kept them both too busy to properly tear each other’s throats out.
He blinked, but nothing else on his exterior changed. His lack of reaction worked its way under her skin and made her want to lash out at him.
“I don’t believe that language is appropriate for the time and place.”
The childish voice in the back of her head repeated his words. I don’t believe that language is appropriate for the time and place.
She huffed. “Isn’t there somewhere else you can wait, like in the car?”
If he noticed how blatantly fed up she was, he didn’t show it. Instead, he shifted his focus back to the magazine in his hand and flipped the page. “I’m fine where I am, thank you.”
Kat had told both Caroline and Colton only minutes before she was going to drown Eric. Her gaze shot across the floor to the windows, to the sun peeking through the glass. Too bad it wasn’t raining. Kat focused back on her computer, scrolling through the seventy-five emails she’d received over the last half hour. A little sigh slipped from her lips, and the small noise of displeasure brought Eric’s attention back to her. She gritted her teeth but kept her focus on her screen, quickly scanning through her inbox. Her fingers clacked rapid-fire along the keys as she solved problem after problem, over and over again, until ten minutes had passed and her inbox was once again current. All the while she firmly kept her gaze on her computer screen. Even during the handful of times she’d felt Eric’s eyes on her.
It took another five minutes for Colton to finally emerge from Caroline’s office. By the look on his face, it was fifteen minutes well spent. If the man had any less dignity, she was sure he’d be whistling as he fixed his gaze on his brother.
“Ready?”
Eric closed the magazine and set it to the side. “Yes.”
Colton turned to her and gave her a small smile and a nod. It was the patented Colton I’m-still-scared-of-you-don’t-hurt-me smile. Kat pushed herself to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. “Have fun?”
He averted his gaze, his face turning sheepish. She was just about to start back in, make a comment about his hair, or his suit being rumpled just to mess with him, but Eric cut her off. “It was a pleasure, as always, Miss Pearson.”
Her attention shifted from Colton to Eric with lethal precision. “Oh, yes!” she deadpanned with enough satire the Pope would be cowed.
The two men gave her curt good-byes and headed toward the elevators. She didn’t watch them go. She swung around and pulled open Caroline’s door. The woman in question was standing behind her desk, staring into her compact as she tried to right her hair.
Kat grinned but stopped short. “Same rules as always—tell me what hasn’t been sanitized so I don’t touch it.” Caroline rolled her eyes and pointed at the desk. Kat eyed it distastefully as she approached but kept her distance. “Now that we’re done being interrupted, do you want the financial reports for the London opening?”
Her blonde best friend’s face lit up, and she nearly lunged for the folder in Kat’s hand. As much as she loved Caroline, she’d never understood the woman’s relationship with her job. Don’t get her wrong, Kat worked hard, she even enjoyed her job most of the time, but her friend became a babbling toddler with every new report that came her way.
Kat handed the file over, and Caroline instantly parted the pages.
“Have you told him yet?”
Caroline shot her a no-nonsense look. “You know I’m not allowed to.”
“You aren’t allowed to inform the public. You guys are getting married,” Kat pointed out, wobbling her head as she spoke.
“We aren’t married yet, and he owns Westbrook stock. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
Dear Caroline, such a stickler. Like anyone would dream of accusing her of doing something unethical. Besides fucking her soon-to-be husband on company property both pre and post engagement. Caroline slowly moved behind her desk, flipping pages as she went. Without another word, the blonde sunk down in her chair, and knowing there weren’t any pressing meetings in the short-term requiring either of their attention, Kat did the same.
“Appropriate, smappropriate. His dick was inside of you less than ten minutes ago. I think a little pillow talk pales in comparison.”
Caroline snorted but didn’t look at her. She was too busy pawing through each of the pages and tables their CFO had pulled together. “Financials look good, right?”
It wasn’t the conversation Kat would have liked to be having with her friend. She’d much prefer talk of hunky men or a new pair of sh
oes. However, once Caroline got the mind to do something, or in this situation, talk about something, there was no stopping her. Kat blew out a long gust of breath. “Yes. The financials are sound. A full return on investment in less than three years is insane. I think we’d be short-sighting ourselves if we don’t do it. Would we sustain our profit margins if we didn’t? Yes of course, but if your intent is to grow revenue ... this is probably the safest bet.”
Caroline shook her head with a pleased smile on her face. “And why won’t you take the Vice President of Operations position again? I even told you I’d interview you with other candidates to make sure it was fair.”
Kat rolled her eyes and shot her friend an exasperated look. They’d had this conversation what felt like a hundred times, and it always ended the same way: with Kat telling Caroline quite firmly she was happy where she was. The argument was tired, and this time her friend and boss didn’t keep prodding, she simply flipped the file folder closed and rapped her knuckles on the cover of the report. “We’re going to do it.”
It might have been the quickest decision Kat had ever seen Caroline make. Normally she was the one to make impulsive decisions. That’s why the blonde was CEO and Kat sat at the desk outside of her office. Still, she wouldn’t be doing her job if she didn’t try and reign her friend in.
“If it makes it through legal.”
Caroline tossed the folder forward with a little splat, leaning back in her chair and giving Kat a sharp look. “I don’t need legal’s buy off.”
“True, but if you don’t get legal’s buy off and this becomes a massive failure, the shareholders can have you removed from the company.”
She watched reality set in as Caroline’s head slowly descended from the clouds. In a shockingly short amount of time, Kat knew she’d convinced her friend to give the decision a few more weeks of consideration and research before she pulled the trigger.
“I hate it when you’re right,” Caroline said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“So always?”