The Red Dress
Jake
“Are you going to be there?” I ask Zane, taking a long sip of the wine in my glass as he settles himself on a lounge chair in my massive balcony.
He shrugs. “Is she going to be there?”
I’m staring daggers at him and I don’t even know why. “Who?”
“You know who,” he throws a smug smile my way, “she’s one sexy hell of a girl you know,” he remarks, “I don’t know how you keep her around without wanting to bang the shit out of her. Everytime.”
I glare at him. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Pretend all you want. But even you gotta admit she is hot as sin.”
Reluctantly, my mind drags to Anastasia – her long brown hair with those blond highlights, her green doe eyes, her slender but somewhat curvy figure …
I shift in my chair. She is my employee and I should be ashamed of thinking of her like that.
I shake my head and lie blatantly, “No. she’s not coming.”
Zane shrugs, “Then I’m not either. I’m not gonna force myself to a charity function and stare at boring auctions all day if she isn’t there to light it up.”
I don’t think Zane actually has a thing for Anastasia, I think he is just trying to infuriate me and although I hate to admit even to myself that his tactics are working, I refuse to acknowledge that fact.
“You think your folks are going to announce who the COO to the company is?” he asks me and I’m grateful for the change of subject. The image of Anastasia is beginning to seat comfortably in my mind.
“I don’t know,” I tell him taking another sip, “As long as I’m the CEO I don’t care whoever it is they appoint as the COO. I can make his life a living hell if he so much as breathes in my direction.”
The BMW pulls to a stop in front of an average sized apartment and I signal to Jonas, my driver to wait, while I go around to the other side of the car to wait for her.
The apartment is simple, in a simple neighborhood, and a simple atmosphere hanging around it and even after months of asking her to move to somewhere better – and closer – Anastasia has simply refused to heed my advices.
I shoot her a text because waiting for someone – especially a lady – has never been my strong suit and my patience is starting to wear off like an old lady’s skin.
Few second later, the door to the meager apartment swings open and Anastasia steps out looking flustered and bored at the same time, like although she is excited, she would also like to spend her Saturday doing any other thing than attend the company’s charity function.
Involuntarily, and because there is absolutely no other way to look anywhere else without making it look awkward, my eyes rake over her slender body with a clean sweep. I made Jonas go on a little shopping for her to get her some clothes fitting for the event but of course, Anastasia – as defiant as she could be – opted for her own clothing and now she is in a red gown that fits smug to her form and her brown curls are pinned fashionably on top of her head with a few curly tendrils escaping the bun.
“You didn’t wear any of the dresses Jonas bought,” I tell her.
She shrugs, “They were kind of loose.”
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
And that was for a fucking reason, Ms. Wells!
I know everything about Anastasia, her dress and shoe size included – don’t ask me how – and when I gave her measurements to Jonas to go dress shopping for her, I made sure it was in a size slightly bigger than her normal size because, well, let’s just say I didn’t want the men at the function ogling my assistant’s body.
She doesn’t wait for me to open the door for her and gets in herself and I go round the car and signal Jonas to drive.
Three minutes into the ride, she clears her throat and asks, “How is it going to be like? The function that is.”
I hate the fact that she is wearing that dress because it is totally endearing to the eyes and fits her so perfectly it makes me uncomfortable and I hate the fact that she went out of her way to apply some make up – which is not something I’m used to seeing on her face – so her dark circles are completely hidden and her face is a radiant glow and I hate the fact that I was stupid enough to invite her to this thing as a way to taunt her yesterday without considering the number of men that are sure going to want to eat her up with their eyes.
“Just a whole lot of auctions and fake smiles,” I tell her.
“So basically—”
“You don’t have to make an attempt at small talk, Ms. Wells,” I glower at her.
She wrings her slender fingers together. “Um okay.”
The rest of the ride is a silent one with me stressing over how attractive my assistant looks in that red dress instead of who is going to be announced as the next COO of my company and with her looking out the window at the blur of lights whipping by.
When the car slows down to a stop in front of the massive gallery institute where the function is being held, she lets me open the for her this time and we walk side by side into the already crowded hall.
My mother spots us first, rushing to me with the grace and importance I’ve come to associate with her.
She gives me a kiss on the cheek and takes a step back because even she knows how much I hate clingy.
She doesn’t spare Anastasia a glance.
“The event has already started,” she says, “come on.”
She walks through the classy crowd and I start to follow her when I realize Anastasia is still standing by the entrance, peering around under those thick lashes of hers at the crowd.
I stomp back to her, “What are you doing?”
Her eyes dart around, “You don’t expect me to follow you all the way over there.”
“That’s exactly what I expect you to do.”
“But…” she leans in, and whispers, “people are gonna think we’re together.”
“So?”
“No I mean, together like a couple.”
Oh!
“Yeah,” she remarks, “So, I’m gonna find the rest of the employees and –”
“No, Anastasia,” I cut her off, “you’re coming with.” No way I’m letting her out of my sight in that dress. If anyone wants to ogle at her, they’ll do it with me glaring at her side.
I have no idea where this stupid possessiveness is coming from.
“But Mr. Keaton—”
She is interrupted by the sudden presence of another person joining us.
I turn my gaze to meet that of Adam, my step brother, whom not surprisingly, I absolutely despise.
“What the fuck do you want?” I bark.
He raises his hands, “Whoa brother, I just came to say hel…” he trails off, his gaze shifting from mine to Anastasia as his expression morphs to one of pure and evident desire, “Well hello there.”
She smiles up at him, shyly, “Hi.”
He runs a wet tongue over his bottom lip and extends his hand, all the while leering at her like a stalking hungry wolf. “I’m Adam Ke—”
I’ve never hated Adams more. “Fuck off, Adam.”
“Is that any way of speaking to you new COO?” he smiles.
In the second it takes his word to register to my brain, Anastasia slips away, getting lost in the crowd of fancy looking people.
I turn my glare to Adams. “What the fuck are you talking about.”
“Dad told me this morning,” he mutters, patting my shoulders, “see you at the top bro.”
Fuck!
Adam is not someone I would trust with handling an ice cream store talk less of being second in command in my company. Hell no.
As I walk through the crowd, my steps heavy and intent to confront our father, a hand shoots out to stop me and I swivel around, a glare on my face as my sister’s face comes to view.
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes, “When the hell did you get back?” last I checked she was in Hawaii with some friends.
Her hold on me tightens. “Spare me the crap, Jake. I saw you when you walked in, what are you doing with her?”
I still. “What do you mean?”
“You know damn well what I mean. I don’t get it, did you stalk her or something? How dang obsessive can you get Jake Keaton?”