TAMING MR BLACKWELL

YOU’RE BETTER AT THIS THAN I EXPECTED

Chapter 9

(Ivy’s POV)

I forced myself to freshen up, changing into something that looked professional but comfortable. When I arrived at the restaurant, Adrian was already seated, sipping his usual whiskey.

“You’re late,” he said without looking up.

I checked the time. “It’s 6:59.”

He finally glanced at me, then at his watch. “You cut it close.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and took my seat.

The dinner was more relaxed than our usual business meetings. There were still discussions about work, but no major deals being made, no urgent calls to take.

At some point, the conversation shifted. “You handled the trip well,” Adrian said, his gaze steady.

I blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected praise. “Oh. Thank you.”

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink. “You’re better at this than I expected.”

I frowned. “Was that a compliment or an insult?”

His lips twitched slightly. “Take it however you want.”

I shook my head, focusing on my food. But deep down, a small part of me.... one I didn’t want to acknowledge.... felt warm at his words.

The trip was almost over. And I was grateful for that fact.

...........

(Adrian’s POV)

I shut the door before Ivy could argue. She would argue, I knew that much. But I wasn’t in the mood for her stubbornness today.

Leaning against the door, I exhaled, rubbing my fingers against my temple. It was barely morning, and I could already see how this day would go. Meetings, networking, last-minute adjustments, and Ivy running around making sure everything was perfect.... probably without stopping to eat or rest.

That woman was relentless.NAnd I should have been grateful for it. Most assistants I’d had before her either quit or crumbled under the pressure. But Ivy? She worked herself to the bone trying to anticipate my every need, yet somehow, she still had the nerve to challenge me when she thought I was wrong.

I should have found it irritating. Instead, it was... distracting.

Pushing away the thought, I walked toward the suite’s desk and flipped open my laptop. I had emails to respond to, contracts to review.

Work was what mattered. Yet, as I typed out an email, my mind drifted back to Ivy..... her tired eyes, the way she had hesitated before answering me.

Had she even slept?

I doubted it. She had looked exhausted since we arrived, but this morning was worse. Her usual sharpness was dulled, her movements a fraction slower.

And I hated it.

Not because I cared, no..... that wasn’t it. But because I needed her at her best.

Before I fire her. That was all.

............

The meetings went as planned. Nothing unexpected, nothing I couldn’t handle. But my patience was running thin.

Maybe it was because I was tired of entertaining fake smiles and empty conversations. Or maybe it was because every time I looked at Ivy, I could see the exhaustion lingering in her posture, in the way she rolled her shoulders when she thought no one was watching.

She hadn’t listened to me. Of course, she hadn’t.

And yet, she still kept up. She still moved through the day as if she weren’t running on fumes, her sharp mind catching every detail I might have missed.

I should have been frustrated. Instead, I was... annoyed for a different reason. Because despite everything, despite knowing I had no business thinking about it..... I kept noticing her.

The way she focused so intently when she was taking notes, biting her lip in concentration. The way she subtly adjusted her posture whenever I looked at her, as if bracing herself for whatever criticism I might throw her way.

The way she barely touched her food at lunch. That last one irritated me more than it should have.

By the time we returned to the hotel in the evening, my patience was wearing thin..... not with her, but with the way my own thoughts refused to settle.

That was when I sent the text.

Dinner. 7 PM. Don’t be late.

I told myself it was because we still had things to discuss. Loose ends to tie up. It wasn’t because I wanted to see her outside of work.

It wasn’t because I was curious about how she’d react. I wanted to be sure I see her eat, I don't want anyone dieing in me.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

And yet, when she arrived.... one minute before seven, because of course she did... I found myself watching her a little too closely.

Noticing how she had changed into something softer, more relaxed than her usual stiff office attire. Noticing how she hesitated before sitting across from me, as if unsure of what version of me she was getting tonight.

I couldn't help saying something to make me look rude. I just couldn't.

...........

IVY'S POV

The next day, I was up early, dressed, and ready for our departure. My bags were packed, the schedule confirmed, and I had already run through the checklist twice. Morning flight. No delays.

At least, that was the plan.

“Afternoon flight,” Adrian said over breakfast, barely looking up from his phone. “Go out.”

I blinked. “Go out?”

He didn’t elaborate. I waited for an explanation, but he simply returned to his coffee, scrolling through whatever important business he was handling. Like this wasn’t a sudden shift in plans. Like it wasn’t odd for him to send me off on my own.

I could have questioned him. I should have. But something about the way he spoke, calm, firm, unbothered.... made it clear this wasn’t up for discussion.

So I went.

Adrian’s words lingered in my mind as I stepped out of the hotel.

"Go out."

He hadn’t explained himself. He didn’t need to. It was a rare moment.... Adrian Blackwell, the man who controlled every second of his schedule, had given me the morning off. A few hours where I wasn’t just his assistant.

I wasn’t sure what to do with that freedom.

For weeks, my life had been a routine of meetings, schedules, and long nights buried in work. Now, standing in the middle of a city I barely knew, I had no plan.

So, I walked.

The morning air was crisp, a gentle breeze rolling through the streets. Unlike Chicago’s fast-paced energy, this city had a different rhythm. People walked slower, conversations lasted longer, and the rush I was used to didn’t seem to exist here.

I passed a flower shop, its display bursting with colors..... soft pink peonies, bright sunflowers, deep red roses. An elderly woman arranged bouquets by the window, her movements slow and careful, as if every petal deserved attention.

A few steps away, a street vendor sold fresh pastries, the scent of warm butter and sugar pulling me in. I bought one without thinking, biting into the flaky crust as I continued my walk.

For once, I wasn’t answering emails while eating. I wasn’t rushing through a meal between tasks.

It felt... normal.

I found a quiet café tucked into the corner of a busy street. It wasn’t sleek or modern like the coffee shops near Blackwell Enterprises. No polished marble counters, no rushed baristas taking orders at lightning speed.

It was small, cozy, the kind of place where people actually sat down and enjoyed their drinks.

I ordered a cappuccino and took a seat by the window.

Outside, life moved at an easy pace. A couple laughed over breakfast, a man flipped through a newspaper, a little girl held her mother’s hand as they walked by.

It was the kind of morning I hadn’t had in years.... where time didn’t feel like it was slipping away.

I let out a slow breath, my shoulders relaxing for the first time in days.

Then, the headache started.

It wasn’t strong at first, just a slight pressure behind my eyes. I ignored it, sipping my coffee, telling myself it was nothing.