JUST HIS ASSISTANT
2476 Words
Alexander Blackwood had made a mistake.
A serious one.
He had kissed Elena Montgomery.
Not accidentally, not because he’d been drinking, and certainly not because she had initiated it.
He had pulled her closer, held her waist, and kissed her until the documents they were supposed to be reviewing had become completely irrelevant.
And the worst part?
He wanted to do it again.
Alexander sat behind his enormous desk, staring at a contract he had already read three times.
This was unacceptable.
Elena was his personal assistant. Their professional relationship had worked perfectly until he’d allowed himself to become distracted by her gentle smile and those warm brown eyes.
He needed to remind himself that she was simply another employee.
And that women had never been a problem for him.
Alexander picked up his phone and called Isabella Laurent.
Isabella: “Alexander, darling! Finally.”
Alexander: “Come to my office.”
Isabella: “Missed me?”
Alexander: “Are you coming or not?”
Isabella laughed.
Isabella: “I’ll be there.”
He ended the call.
Simple.
That was how things were supposed to be.
Elena was organizing documents when Alexander’s intercom rang.
Elena: “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”
Alexander: “Cancel my remaining appointments.”
Elena: “All of them, sir?”
Alexander: “Yes. And when Isabella arrives, send her directly inside.”
Elena’s fingers stopped moving.
Isabella?
She swallowed.
Elena: “Of course, Mr. Blackwood.”
The call ended.
For several seconds, Elena stared at her computer.
She remembered Alexander’s hand against her neck.
His arm around her waist.
The way he’d kissed her.
She had spent the previous evening replaying that moment, wondering whether it meant something.
Apparently, she’d been foolish.
Alexander Blackwood was a billionaire who dated beautiful women like Isabella Laurent.
Elena was his assistant.
Nothing more.
She straightened her shoulders and returned to work.
Isabella arrived wearing a fitted black dress and expensive heels.
Isabella: “Hello, sweetheart.”
Elena stood.
Elena: “Good afternoon, Miss Laurent.”
Isabella: “Alexander called me. Is he waiting?”
Elena: “Yes, ma’am. You may go straight inside.”
Isabella smiled.
Isabella: “Wonderful.”
She walked past Elena and opened Alexander’s office door.
Isabella: “Darling!”
Elena glanced up.
Through the doorway, she saw Isabella wrap her arms around Alexander’s neck.
Then Isabella kissed him.
Alexander kissed her back.
The door closed.
Elena looked down at her keyboard.
Something tightened painfully inside her chest.
Jealousy.
She hated the feeling.
She had no right to be jealous.
Alexander wasn’t her boyfriend.
He hadn’t promised her anything.
He had kissed her once, and she’d allowed herself to imagine that perhaps she was becoming special to him.
But Isabella was beautiful, glamorous, and confident.
Elena looked down at her own soft figure beneath her modest blouse.
She wasn’t like Isabella.
And Alexander had never suggested he wanted anything serious with her.
Elena took a slow breath.
She would not embarrass herself.
She would not cry over a man who wasn’t hers.
Most importantly, she would not allow her feelings to interfere with her job.
Inside the office, Isabella pressed herself against Alexander.
Isabella: “You’ve been ignoring me.”
Alexander: “I’ve been busy.”
She smiled.
Isabella: “But you called me today.”
Alexander loosened his tie.
Alexander: “Yes.”
Isabella kissed him again.
He responded, placing his hands around her waist.
She ran her fingers through his dark hair as the kiss deepened. Alexander drew her closer, trying to lose himself in the familiar sensation.
He had kissed Isabella countless times.
There was nothing unusual about her perfume, her confidence, or the way she touched him.
Yet something felt wrong.
He closed his eyes.
And suddenly, he remembered Elena.
Her shy smile.
Her warm brown eyes.
The way her fingers had curled into his shirt.
The softness of her lips.
Alexander’s jaw tightened.
He tried to concentrate on Isabella.
She kissed him again, pulling him closer.
But the memory returned.
Elena.
Alexander abruptly pulled away.
Isabella: “What’s wrong?”
Alexander: “Nothing.”
Isabella: “Then come here.”
She reached for his tie.
Alexander caught her hand.
Alexander: “Not now.”
Isabella frowned.
Isabella: “Alexander, you called me here.”
Alexander: “I’m aware.”
Isabella: “Then why are you acting like you don’t want me?”
He released her hand.
Alexander: “Because I’m not in the mood.”
Isabella stared at him.
Isabella: “You’re unbelievable.”
Alexander returned to his desk.
Alexander: “I’ve been told.”
She grabbed her handbag.
Isabella: “Call me when you’ve figured out what you want.”
Alexander didn’t answer.
The door slammed behind her.
He remained standing beside his desk, staring at the closed door.
For the first time, kissing Isabella hadn’t distracted him.
It had only made him think about another woman.
His assistant.
Elena looked up when Isabella emerged from the office.
The blonde looked furious.
Elena: “Have a good afternoon, Miss Laurent.”
Isabella barely acknowledged her before disappearing into the elevator.
Elena returned to her computer.
She felt relieved that Isabella had left.
Then immediately hated herself for it.
She had no reason to care.
Alexander was free to invite anyone he wanted into his office.
And Elena was free to protect her own feelings.
She opened her notebook and silently made a decision.
No more teasing.
No more unnecessary conversations.
No more allowing herself to imagine that she was anything other than his employee.
She would continue doing everything Alexander expected of her.
But the personal closeness between them had to stop.
Alexander emerged from his office carrying a folder.
Alexander: “Elena.”
She immediately stood.
Elena: “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”
He stopped.
His eyes moved toward her face.
Alexander: “Bring me the Sterling documents.”
Elena: “Of course, sir.”
She handed him the folder.
Alexander examined it.
Alexander: “You’ve already prepared them?”
Elena: “Yes, Mr. Blackwood.”
He looked at her again.
Alexander: “Good.”
Elena: “Will there be anything else, sir?”
Her voice was polite.
Perfectly professional.
And strangely distant.
Alexander: “No.”
Elena: “Thank you, sir.”
She returned to her work.
Alexander watched her for another moment before entering his office.
Something had changed.
He simply didn’t know what.
The following morning, Elena arrived earlier than usual.
She prepared Alexander’s schedule, organized his contracts, and placed his black coffee beside his laptop.
Next to the coffee sat a container of homemade breakfast.
Scrambled eggs without pepper.
Lightly toasted sourdough.
Sliced avocado.
Smoked salmon.
Exactly how he liked it.
Elena hadn’t stopped preparing breakfast for him.
She still cared whether he’d eaten, whether his coffee was ready, and whether his day would begin smoothly.
But there was something missing.
No handwritten note.
No sweet message wishing him a good morning.
Nothing.
When Alexander stepped out of his private elevator, Elena immediately stood.
Elena: “Good morning, Mr. Blackwood.”
Alexander: “Morning.”
She handed him his schedule.
Elena: “Your meeting with Sterling Corporation has been confirmed, sir. The revised financial projections are ready, and Mr. Harrison requested a callback.”
Alexander examined the documents.
Alexander: “Anything else?”
Elena: “Your coffee and breakfast are on your desk, Mr. Blackwood.”
He looked up.
Alexander: “Breakfast?”
Elena: “Yes, sir.”
Alexander studied her expression.
She was smiling politely.
But it wasn’t the same smile.
Alexander: “Fine.”
He entered his office.
The moment he reached his desk, he noticed the breakfast container.
He opened it.
Everything was exactly as he preferred.
Even the toast was lightly browned.
But there was no note.
Alexander looked beneath the container.
Nothing.
He frowned.
It was ridiculous to care about a piece of paper.
He had told her repeatedly that preparing his breakfast wasn’t part of her responsibilities.
Yet somehow, the absence of her little handwritten message bothered him.
He picked up his fork.
The food tasted just as good as always.
But something about the morning felt wrong.
Later, Alexander called Elena into his office.
Alexander: “Elena.”
She appeared almost immediately.
Elena: “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”
His jaw tightened.
Alexander: “Close the door.”
She obeyed.
Elena: “Is there something you need, sir?”
Alexander leaned back in his chair.
Alexander: “Come here.”
Elena approached his desk.
Elena: “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”
He studied her.
Her hair was neatly tied back. She wore a modest cream blouse and black trousers, and her expression was perfectly professional.
Too professional.
Alexander: “Did something happen?”
Elena blinked.
Elena: “I’m sorry, sir?”
Alexander: “You’ve been acting differently.”
Elena: “Have I made a mistake?”
Alexander: “No.”
Elena: “Then I don’t understand, Mr. Blackwood.”
Alexander stood.
He walked around his desk until he was standing directly in front of her.
Alexander: “Why do you keep calling me that?”
Her heart tightened.
Elena: “Calling you what, sir?”
Alexander: “Mr. Blackwood.”
She lowered her eyes.
Elena: “Because you’re my employer.”
His expression darkened.
Alexander: “I told you to call me Alexander when we’re alone.”
Elena: “I think it’s better to remain professional, Mr. Blackwood.”
Alexander stared at her.
Then his gaze dropped briefly to her lips.
He remembered kissing her in this very office.
He remembered the way she’d held his shirt and kissed him back.
And now she was standing in front of him as though none of it had ever happened.
Alexander: “Look at me.”
Elena slowly raised her eyes.
Elena: “Yes, sir?”
Alexander reached for her waist and drew her closer.
Elena gasped softly, her hands instinctively resting against his chest.
Elena: “Mr. Blackwood—”
He lowered his head, stopping just before their lips met. Elena looked at him for a moment, then closed the remaining distance herself.
Alexander kissed her back immediately.
His hand moved from her waist to the side of her neck, his thumb resting beneath her jaw.
The kiss grew longer.
Slower.
More deliberate.
For several moments, Elena forgot about Isabella.
Forgot about the office.
Forgot about the fact that the man holding her was her employer.
But then she remembered.
She gently pressed her palm against his chest.
Alexander stopped and drew back.
His hand remained lightly against her waist.
He looked into her brown eyes.
Alexander: “Baby, what’s wrong?”
Elena went completely still.
Baby.
Alexander Blackwood had just called her baby.
Not Miss Montgomery.
Not Elena.
Baby.
Her heart ached at how badly she’d wanted to hear something like that from him.
But she couldn’t forget the image of Isabella wrapping her arms around his neck.
Or the sound of their kiss.
Elena lowered her gaze.
Elena: “Nothing, Mr. Blackwood.”
Alexander’s expression changed.
Alexander: “Don’t do that.”
She looked up.
Elena: “Do what, sir?”
Alexander: “Call me Mr. Blackwood when we’re alone.”
Elena swallowed.
Elena: “But that’s who you are.”
His jaw tightened.
Alexander: “Elena.”
She carefully stepped away from his arms.
He let her go, although his expression remained hard.
Elena: “I’m sorry if I’ve been behaving differently. I assure you it won’t affect my work.”
Alexander stared at her.
Alexander: “I’m not talking about your work.”
She forced a small smile.
Elena: “Then there’s nothing to worry about, Mr. Blackwood.”
Silence.
Alexander looked at her for several seconds.
He knew something had happened.
He simply didn’t know what.
Alexander: “Did I do something?”
Elena’s fingers tightened around her notebook.
She wanted to ask him about Isabella.
Wanted to ask whether their kiss had meant anything.
Wanted to know why he’d kissed her again when he had another woman visiting his office.
But she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
She wasn’t his girlfriend.
She wasn’t entitled to an explanation.
Elena: “No, sir.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed.
Alexander: “Then why are you pulling away from me?”
Her breath caught.
For a moment, she looked genuinely hurt.
But she quickly lowered her gaze.
Elena: “I’m not pulling away, Mr. Blackwood. I’m simply remembering my position.”
Alexander went still.
Alexander: “Your position?”
Elena: “I’m your personal assistant, sir.”
She looked up at him.
Elena: “And I think it’s important that I don’t forget that.”
For several seconds, Alexander said nothing.
Then his expression hardened.
Alexander: “Fine.”
Elena nodded.
Elena: “Will there be anything else, sir?”
His jaw tightened.
Alexander: “No.”
She turned toward the door.
Alexander: “Elena.”
She stopped.
Elena: “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”
Alexander stared at her.
He wanted to tell her to stop.
To turn around.
To explain why she was suddenly treating him like a stranger.
Instead, he spoke coldly.
Alexander: “Get back to work.”
Elena: “Of course, sir.”
The door closed behind her.
Alexander remained standing in the middle of his office.
He looked toward the breakfast container on his desk.
She had still prepared his favorite meal.
Still remembered every detail.
Still made sure his coffee was exactly how he liked it.
But the warmth was gone.
The sweet notes.
The teasing.
The way she smiled whenever he called her Elena.
He had wanted her to remain professional.
Now she was.
And he hated it.
Alexander walked toward the window, his jaw clenched.
He remembered Isabella.
The way he’d invited her over simply to prove that Elena meant nothing.
The way he’d kissed Isabella while thinking about another woman.
Then he remembered Elena’s expression.
The quiet hurt she’d tried so desperately to hide.
Something clicked.
Alexander slowly turned toward his office door.
She saw Isabella.
The realization settled heavily in his chest.
He had kissed Elena.
Then invited another woman into his office the following day.
And Elena hadn’t confronted him.
Hadn’t demanded an explanation.
Hadn’t even mentioned it.
She had simply stepped backward and reminded herself that she was his employee.
Alexander loosened his tie.
He wasn’t accustomed to feeling guilty.
He certainly wasn’t accustomed to explaining himself to women.
But for the first time, he understood why Elena might have pulled away.
And the thought that she believed their kiss had meant absolutely nothing to him was becoming increasingly difficult to tolerate.
Because the truth was considerably more complicated.
Alexander Blackwood had kissed Isabella to forget Elena.
Instead, he’d discovered that Elena was the only woman he wanted to kiss again.
And now, somehow, he’d managed to hurt the very woman he couldn’t stop thinking about.
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