Chapter 21: How to Become Your Boss’s Date to a Party

Adelaide Weston stared at the dove-white card in her hand, the words in an elegant black print swimming before her eyes.

She fingered the gold trim around the edges of the card, taking in the texture of the paper.

Adelaide had worked her ass off to get to where she was. As a shy, skinny girl in middle school, she’d buried herself under a fortress of books.

She was rewarded by the proud smiles of her parents with every report card that came home.

She could have lived perfectly well with that setup.

If not for the tragic day one of those bitchy, blonde-haired, miniature-Barbie classmates of hers singled her out as the lucky recipient of their bullying for the rest of the school year.

She clearly remembered a group of girls forming a ring around her and commenting on her clothes.

Yes, her skirt and sweater were thrifted hand-me-downs. She wore them to be dressed not to make a fashion statement.

One of the blonde minions mentioned that she dressed like her grandma and then howled with laughter as the nickname slid out of her round, pink mouth—Granny Addy.

The title was hurled at her as she walked down the halls for the remainder of the school year.

Adelaide got to start over in high school. Her family moved out of town after her dad lost his job at the automotive plant. Adelaide seized the opportunity.

She saved up money collected from babysitting jobs and spent it all on a new wardrobe. In high school, Granny Addy was no more.

She was one of the popular girls (the only difference being, she told herself, she had a soul). She had the approval of all.

But the tragedy dogged her footsteps. Her senior year before prom, just when she was preparing herself to enter the wide world of college, her boyfriend dumped her.

He claimed that she just wasn’t smart enough—some things mattered more than looks.

He wanted a girl who was pretty but with brains too. It didn’t occur to her then, when he left her standing in the parking lot of the restaurant, to remind him of his less-than-average grades.

It ate up her insides for years after the event, thinking of how she could have simply flipped her hair and told him not to push his luck.

Any girl with half a brain would know better than to waste their time with him. Except, of course, she had wasted her time with him.

If there was anything Adelaide had learned once she graduated college, it was that her life would be a constant struggle regardless of who she chose to be.

She went into her first job with a zealous energy, trading in her childhood fortress of books for ledgers and paperwork.

But she kept herself stylish with a hint of sexy. As a result of her hard work and style, she had ended up working for one of the wealthiest, smartest, most powerful men in the world.

She saw him almost every day. She worked with him personally. She handled all of his appointments and meetings. And so, inevitably, she’d fallen in love with him.

For seven years she’d been his efficient, unfailing support. For seven years she’d waited for him to look at her and see her the way she wanted to be seen.

She’d dreamed of a day when the sight of her would evoke passion in his eyes, when he’d be in a room full of people and see only her through the crowd.

Though that day took its own time coming—and though the endless parade of other women who warmed his bed wounded her to the core—she remained hopeful.

Aside from his mother, she’d been the only consistent woman in his life.

Even though he still referred to her by her last name, she knew that was more than what other women received. And there was no one else who would be likely to take her place.

Until now.

Her fingers tightened around the card in her hand at the thought of Raemon Kentworth’s new assistant. Fate seemed to have a wicked sense of humor.

When Adelaide had given Octavia the once-over during their first interview, she had been secretly relieved.

After being tasked with finding her boss an assistant—but first getting over the sting that her boss required more help than she was able to give him—she’d searched diligently for the perfect candidate.

A man wouldn’t do. There were very few men who would be able to withstand the degradation Raemon Kentworth continually dished out to the people around him.

She searched through a series of profiles of women. She immediately passed over every seemingly sexy candidate. But the unsexy ones didn’t seem to have the pluck to withstand Raemon’s degradation either.

Octavia had been perfect. Smart, capable, and blithely unconcerned with the opinions of others.

She watched with a small amount of satisfaction as Octavia ran after Raemon Kentworth, doing his bidding and being continually insulted no matter how she performed.

She was relieved that Octavia didn’t burst into tears and run screaming from the place; she couldn’t start the assistant search all over again.

But as Octavia continued to work for Mr. Kentworth, nagging thoughts hissed into Adelaide’s head that something was up.

Even with his constant insults, could it be that they were becoming a little…friendly? At first, Adelaide had pushed the thought away and went on with her work.

Then she walked in on them that day. He had tried to cover it up…but she’d seen enough. He had her in his arms. It was like a blow to the gut.

But things had been much, much worse lately. There were no more insults. Octavia didn’t march out of his office muttering curses under her breath anymore.

The other day, she thought she had almost seen Raemon Kentworth smile. It was only the slightest tug at the corner of his mouth, but it had been more than she had seen in the seven years she’d known him.

And it had been in response to some ridiculous comment Octavia had made about lemonade. Things were bad. Adelaide had no choice but to take drastic measures.

Adelaide stood, resolve on her face. She slid the card she was holding into its envelope and walked in the direction of Raemon’s office.

She knocked on the door, waited to hear his voice order her in, and then she took a deep breath, clutched the handle, and entered the room.

There he was.

He was sitting at his desk, sheets of paper scattered out before him. He was scanning the graphs and charts before him with an intense look of concentration.

Adelaide held in a sigh from the sight of him.

She adored how he looked when he was working, that expression of intention that arrested his face when he perused the company profits or reviewed the latest software.

She stared at the pen in his right hand, the way he pressed the end of it with his thumb, clicking the nib in and out of its socket—again and again—click, click, click.

She took in the blue of his shirt and the collar that he had unbuttoned, just revealing the very top of his hairy chest.

She imagined the feel of her hands on his chest, stroking her fingers over his pectorals, up and up to his neck.

She imagined lying beside him and kissing his face, feeling the gentle scratch of his close-shaven beard on her lips.

She imagined getting her legs tangled up with his, lying on snow-white sheets with his dark, bronze arms around her, holding her trembling body next to his.

Him whispering into her ear that he would die before letting her go.

Then she realized that he was no longer staring at the sheets but at her.

“What is it?” he demanded.

Adelaide was jerked out of her fantasy with a rude awakening. She stood frozen and quiet, trying to recollect her thoughts.

“Any day now, Weston,” he said, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Sorry, sir,” Adelaide finally managed to blurt out. She cursed herself for having wasted precious seconds of his time.

“I…I meant to tell you that the operations manager from the plant in Turkey finally sent in those numbers that you asked for. I forwarded them to your personal drive, sir.”

Raemon nodded stiffly in acknowledgment. “Very well, you may go.”

Adelaide gritted her teeth and steeled herself. It was now or never.

“I…I also wanted to make sure I gave you this,” she said, stepping forward to lay the card on his desk.

Raemon looked at the card before him but made no move to pick it up. He looked up at Adelaide.

“It’s your invitation to the Sanatio City Charity Gala,” she explained. “It’s tonight.”

At this, Raemon’s head went back down to his charts. “Send my apologies to whichever damned socialite or heiress invited me.”

“Sir, you already confirmed your attendance two months ago,” Adelaide said.

This wasn’t exactly true… his response to her when she first informed him of the invitation was a bored shrug, but she had recently made the executive decision to take that as a yes.

Raemon grimaced and leaned back in his seat. “Can’t I make up some excuse?”

“You could…,” Adelaide started. “However, the Saudi ambassador will be attending, and it is he who especially requested your presence.

“This would be a good opportunity to initiate a conversation on the company’s expansion into the Middle East,” Adelaide said.

“I know that,” Raemon said brusquely. “Fine. I guess I’ll be going to the event.”

“Very well, sir,” Adelaide said. “And…will you be taking a date?”

“No,” he answered curtly.

“You did RSVP for two,” Adelaide said. “Perhaps…perhaps if there’s no one available…I can—”

“Actually,” Raemon cut in, “I will bring a date.”

Adelaide was breathless. “You…you will, sir?”

Raemon stared past Adelaide thoughtfully. “Yes, go ahead and make sure a car is ready for tonight. And have a tux delivered to my office.”

Adelaide could barely control the surge of emotion in her breast. “Yes, sir. And for your date?”

“Send in Octavia when you see her,” Raemon said.

It was a curious sensation, having one’s heart stop. It was beating before he spoke. Then she heard the name of that girl, and suddenly lights out. She was frozen to the spot again.

“That’s all, Weston,” Raemon said, gesturing her to the door.

She had no choice but to move her numb body through the door and close it behind her.

Octavia strode into Raemon’s office after Adelaide frostily informed her that Mr. Kentworth was asking for her.

She was puzzled by Adelaide’s behavior, but not entirely surprised as the woman had never been that nice to Octavia. A little more rudeness than the usual didn’t make much of a difference.

Octavia took a hearty bite of the red apple she’d snatched from the building’s cafeteria. At the sound of her crunching, her boss looked up from the sheets of paper strewn over his desk.

“Must you always choose the loudest foods?” he asked.

“Hey, I’m trying to be healthy,” Octavia said, wiping off the juices of the apple that were dribbling down her chin. “Also, they were out of bagels.”

Raemon shook his head in dismay but said nothing more on that. Instead, he asked, “What are your plans for tonight?”

Octavia shrugged. “Thai food. Maybe some video games. Maybe a movie. Maybe Gracie and I will pull a prank on my housemate,” she said. “She’s been really bitchy lately.”

“Cancel those plans. You will accompany me to a charity gala tonight.”

Octavia made a face. “A charity gala? Isn’t that just the polite term for one of the many extravagant and opulent displays of wealth you rich people do because your lives lack meaning?”

“I need you to attend the event, Octavia, not write a thesis on it,” Raemon informed her.

“Bleh,” Octavia responded, “fine. I’ll go. But there better be food. So what should I do next? Do you want me to compile the schematics for the new microprocessors design?”

“Not today. Never mind with the rest of your tasks. You’re going to be busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting ready for the gala tonight.”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Octavia scoffed, “how long do you think it takes to change clothes?”

“It will take you that long, Octavia. Trust me,” Raemon said. He pressed a button on the phone before him and said, “Come into my office, Weston.”

Seconds later, a scowling Adelaide marched into the room, walking by Octavia without glancing at her, and said, “What can I do for you, Mr. Kentworth?”

Raemon gestured to Octavia. “Ms. Wilde will be joining me for the Sanatio City Gala tonight.”

Octavia thought she saw Adelaide’s back stiffen at his words.

Raemon continued. “Take her to Helena’s. See to it that she’s properly attired for the night.”

“Yes…sir. I’ll…I’ll ensure she gets the full treatment,” Adelaide responded stiffly. She turned to Octavia. “Come with me,” she said with a strained smile.

Octavia looked from Adelaide’s face to Raemon’s. “What the hell is the ‘full treatment’? And who is Helena?”

“Just go with Weston,” Raemon said, pointing them both to the door.

Octavia reluctantly followed Adelaide out the door.