Society Playboys: Playboy Assistant Part 3

"It's obvious. You're being a hard-a.s.s for no reason." He was treading on thin ice and he knew it straight away. But he was running on adrenaline alone.

She crossed her arms. "Am I being a hard-a.s.s? Or maybe you're just upset I'm not another woman to swoon in your presence?"

Her anger propelled him, which was a bad idea. "So you do have something against me. But you don't even know me."

"I know you, Mr. Pallis. Every woman in Houston knows you, apparently." Her lips snapped shut, her eyes grew larger by the second. He was getting to her. Fabian waited for her to say more, but she didn't.

"I thought you said my personal life is not your concern." He would bet his yacht she looked him up on the internet. She had to have, with that look in her eyes. But the thought made his mind reel in unprofessional ways. Why would she look him up if she wasn't interested in some way? She didn't seem the type to cyber-stalk.

Her mouth parted, and he was hanging on every moment. His stomach rippled when her tongue licked her bottom lip. In a voice huskier than before, she said, "It's not my concern. My only concern is that you act in a professional manner when you are working for me. Now let's go to my office. I have a task for you." She turned quickly, rus.h.i.+ng to change the subject it would seem.

"Fine by me." He wasn't done with her yet.

This d.a.m.n dress. It was too tight. Bodycon dresses were a terrible idea if a person was acting CEO. Especially when said person had an a.s.sistant who looked at the dress like he wanted to know what was under it. Because he did look at her that way. And why wouldn't he? Fabian Pallis was a player. Toni recalled all the women he'd been photographed with on the internet. It was probably a requirement to look at all women the way he looked at her in the supply room. Focus. Why was it so hard to focus when she could smell him again? She could feel him so close behind her again. Like when he was behind her at the beverage cart. Dear G.o.d, would she ever forget that stupid beverage cart incident?

Finally, they arrived in her office. She pushed open the frosted gla.s.s door, letting go of the handle when he reached above her head to hold the door open. The action sent her heart skipping faster than it already had been. "Thank you," she murmured.

"No problem."

She practically felt the smile on his face. When she turned to face him from the other side of her desk, smile confirmed.

"Please sit," she instructed as she sat.

She would have to find a way to forget the conversation they'd just had in the closet. h.e.l.l yes, she had something against him, but he couldn't know what it was. Then she'd have to admit to stalking him, which was not her thing. Toni was sure he'd had too many stalkers. His gigantic ego didn't need another. She placed the Styrofoam coffee cup on her desk. "Your office is right through that door." His gaze followed her pointing finger.

He showed her his profile as he glanced at the attached door. Good nose. And jaw. s.e.xy ears. Could ears be s.e.xy? For G.o.d's sake. She sighed to herself. I hate him.

"I have to come in here to get to my office?" He turned to her, an eyebrow lifted.

"I'd rather you not cross through my office as you come and go. There is a door on the other side leading to a private copy room. You can get to the main corridor from there." She turned her gaze from his sun-filled eyes for a moment to glance at her phone. "I want you to use your intercom if you intend to come in my office."

Fabian's lips curled into an evocative smile, which she guessed was typical for his type. "I imagine, as your a.s.sistant, I'll be in your office a lot."

She s.h.i.+fted in her seat. "It is a possibility, yes."

He crossed an ankle over his knee, sinking in the chair that was obviously too small for his frame. "Oh, the possibilities..."

A glint danced in his eyes. He was toying with her. Trying to make her squirm, make her forget who was boss here. She had to snap out of it. In her mind she reread the letter Victor Pallis sent, feeling inspired to write him back now that she experienced what might amount to his son getting his way with women.

"What would be better is if you go through these invitations to galas, parties, openings, et cetera, and decide which events are the most beneficial for me to attend." She reached over, pulled out the second drawer of her ma.s.sive desk and scooped up a load of envelopes with both hands. "I want a rationale for your decision to accept or decline for each one." She dumped the pile on the edge of the desk. A few fell over.

"This is what it means to be your a.s.sistant? Check your mail?" He didn't seem too amused with himself anymore.

"These events are important, Mr. Pallis. Robuchon Investments has a business standing and also a social standing in the community. If you are confused about either of those, I suggest you do some research." She was a little proud of herself for wiping that smirk off his face. Okay, she was a lot proud of herself.

He stood, scooping the envelopes with his large hands after he'd picked up the fallen ones. "As you wish, Miss Robuchon."

"Thank you."

When he slipped into the next room, she exhaled. G.o.d, dealing with him was harder than she thought it would be. She pulled up her email and selected the one from Victor Pallis. Again, she reread each word, grunting at the he is used to getting his way with women part. h.e.l.l no. Not this woman. She placed her fingers on the keyboard and typed as fast as she could.

To: Victor Pallis([email protected]) From: Toni Robuchon() Date: Wednesday, July 13 RE:RE: Fabian Mr. Pallis-I can a.s.sure you that Fabian will not receive any special treatment from myself or anyone on the Robuchon Investments staff. I fully read and understand your requirements, and I intend to fulfill your wishes. I find your approach estimable and smart. I am glad that my mother and I can help in your cause to reel in your loose cannon son. I can also a.s.sure you that Fabian will not get his way with any female employee at Robuchon Investments in any capacity. We are a professional environment, and certain behaviors are looked down upon. These certain behaviors could potentially result in termination, and I am positive Fabian does not want that.

I will gladly report your son's progress on a weekly basis. I'm confident both parties-yourself and Robuchon Investments-will benefit from this arrangement.

P.S. Thank you for inquiring about my mother. She is on personal leave.

Sincerely, Toni Robuchon Acting CEO Robuchon Investments There. All done and sent. No turning back now.

Chapter Five.

Fabian met his father for dinner that night at his favorite restaurant in Neartown around six-thirty. The restaurant served the best truffle lobster ravioli he'd ever tasted in the States. "Surprised you don't have one of your strippers with you." Fabian sipped from an old fas.h.i.+on gla.s.s filled with expensive scotch.

"She's not a stripper. And don't talk to me like that."

Fabian scoffed, not looking his father in the eyes. "Oh, sorry, adult entertainer."

"Fabian, you really should worry less about who I'm seeing and more about how you're going to prove to me you're responsible." His father shoved a pieced of rare tenderloin in his mouth. "You can't sustain the rest of your life with your tastes and what's left in your trust fund."

"How do you know that?"

"I know everything you do, boy."

Fabian cursed under his breath. G.o.d, he hated being called "boy". He was a man, and he had to keep his temper in check if he wanted to get anywhere with his dad. "I need to live, Dad. I need basic necessities."

"Like you needed a Flying Spur? You already have the Porsche and that Mercedes you never drive. Oh, that's right, you crashed the Mercedes on one of your drunken nights out with the guys."

"First of all, I wasn't drunk. I was trying to avoid another driver who ran a stoplight and ended up on the fire hydrant. And Bentley is a good car," he quipped. "You have one or five."

"Five that I bought with money I worked for."

"Is that what this is about? You're mad because I spend the trust fund you set up for me? That seems a.s.s-backward."

His father dropped his silverware on his plate. Fabian took in his father's glower, not saying another word. Their gazes fused brown to green. "This is about you wasting your life away. You're a Harvard grad, and you need to stop acting like a kid. Yes, you have a trust fund, but you need some..."

"Some what, Dad?"

"Pride in what you do. Purpose. You're a Pallis, and we've all been working men. All of us. Even me, and you know G.o.dd.a.m.n well I could have just b.u.mmed off my own trust fund." He rubbed the balding spot on his head. "And Antonia is right, I can't have you going around like a loose cannon. You're already in all the society papers with all your girlfriends, breaking hearts and causing scandals."

Fabian set down the heavy gla.s.s. "Wait, what? Loose cannon? Toni said that?"

"Yes, and I agree with her."

Fabian s.h.i.+fted in his seat, part exhilarated to know Toni was talking about him and part offended she would suggest such a thing. "When did she say that? And, by the way, you have no room to talk about all my girlfriends, Dad."

His father's thick eyebrow quirked up. "I have sense enough to stay out of the papers."

Before Fabian could respond, a man walked up to the table. Tall and blond, like he'd just come off a yacht. He slithered to them and placed a tanned hand on Fabian's father's shoulder. "Victor Pallis," the man greeted. He might have been in his late twenties. He looked very familiar to Fabian.

"Stephan! Nice to see you. Sorry to hear about that business deal. It was a big one," Fabian's father said.

Stephan nodded, stress stroked his eyes for only a moment. "Thank you, Victor. The Bradleys will prevail."

"No doubt. You know my son, Fabian."

"Right." Stephan nodded his head. After a quick wipe on his white pants, he offered a hand to Fabian. "You were thirteen the last time I saw you." Fabian took the hand, shook it with the same force Stephan put in. A compet.i.tive handshake would be the best way to describe it.

"Fabian was at Harvard for six years. Decided to grace Houston."

"I outgrew Cambridge," Fabian said, eyeing the white smile.

Stephan seemed impressed. "Both undergrad and grad, huh? Nice." He shoved his hand in his pocket. "You working with your old man now?"

Fabian's father cleared his throat, answering, "Not yet. He's a.s.sisting Robuchon for a while."

"Helene?" Stephan lifted both eyebrows, surprise taking residence in his clear blue eyes.

"Toni." Fabian tossed his father a curt glance.

"Antonia?" Stephan could barely contain himself. His mouth gaped a moment before he continued. "My Antonia? Ex-Antonia, I mean?"

My Antonia? Fabian suddenly became very interested. "What do you mean?"

"She's my ex-fiancee." He said it matter-of-fact with a tinge of threat. Blue eyes narrowed at Fabian as the two men gazed at each other.

"Is she?" A smirk curled his lips. Reaching for his drink, Fabian took a heady gulp, eyes still pinned to Stephan.

"Yeah, she is."

"Well, isn't that a coincidence?"

Fabian's father broke the awkward silence. "Helene is on personal leave for a while, and Antonia is acting CEO. For now."

"That's odd." Stephan glanced down to his Richard Mille watch. Fabian would know it anywhere. The guy at least had good taste in watches. And women. "Good to run into you, Victor." He glanced to Fabian. "Fabian." And just as he turned, he said, "Tell Antonia I'll pay a visit tomorrow. Just to catch up."

Their gazes caught again, mingling. "I'll let her know." Yeah, right. No way in h.e.l.l would he tell her. It would be too fun to watch her surprise at her ex-fiance's visit. And hopefully distaste.

After Stephan was out of earshot, Fabian said, "He looks like a d.i.c.k. Why would Toni be engaged to that guy?"

"She's not anymore," his father said around another mouthful of tenderloin.

Fabian continued to watch Stephan walk away until he'd blended into the crowded restaurant. He turned his attention back to his father. "What happened? With the engagement, I mean."

"Oh, you know. He cheated. Left her for someone else. Or something like that. h.e.l.l, I don't know."

To Fabian's surprise, his heart sank, and for a moment he felt somber. Men didn't cheat on women like Toni. Did they? She was probably perfect. Minus the icy exterior. After finding out about what happened to her engagement, he understood why she seemed so untrusting. She might even be a bit of a misandrist, which took him back to his previous question. "You never said when Toni called me a loose cannon."

"G.o.d, Fabian, let it go. You are a loose cannon."

"Yeah well, you're not exactly a straight arrow, Dad." Bad thing to say. He'd already been skating on thin ice since their last conversation.

"Watch yourself."

"Why would she even say that? What proof does she have to suggest I'm a loose cannon?" Misbehaving might be the worst she could accuse him of, but a loose cannon? That would need a lot more evidence, which validated his conclusion that she'd done some research on him.

"G.o.d, Fabian, you're my only son and I need you to be serious. Get your life together. And stop all the womanizing. Settle on one you can take as an acceptable wife from a good family. The kind of woman who is well connected. Like-"

"Like Antonia Robuchon," Fabian spit out, his heart pounding.

His father's eyebrows lifted and eyes narrowed. "No... I was going to say that Camille Carano girl you've been seeing. The Caranos are making a good name for themselves in the auto business." He stared at his son. Fabian knew exactly what he was thinking. "Now why would you a.s.sume I meant Antonia?"

Fabian planted his lips around the rim of the gla.s.s again, answering with a mumble. "She's connected."

His gaze caught his father's and held it. As the realization fell over Fabian's father's face, he nearly choked on the next piece of steak he'd stuffed in his mouth. "Oh, no. No way, son. You're not going to look or even think about Antonia in that way. She's off limits." He shook his head, his eyes growing wider with each demand. "I won't have you break her heart, too. I won't have you mess up my relations.h.i.+p with the Robuchons."

Fabian lifted his hands, shrugging his shoulders. "What do you mean?" The thought of him breaking Antonia's heart didn't sit well with him. "I wouldn't do that."

"No, Fabian. She is your boss, and off limits." He leaned in, over the small table. "You hear me? Off. Limits."

Fabian shrugged, playing it cool, though the b.u.t.terflies fluttered in his stomach to think of Toni as an acceptable wife he could take. "No worries there, Dad. I don't think she likes me much anyway."

Toni needed to decompress. Take all her stress out on her yoga mat, which is exactly what she did. The late cla.s.s started at eight and at approximately nine-thirty she found herself standing outside the studio. She'd driven her Range Rover, wanting time to herself.

The thick, humid night air clung to her skin. She needed out of her clothes stat. On the hood of the SUV, she placed her mat before peeling off her t-s.h.i.+rt, gladly accepting the slight breeze, albeit warm, against the exposed skin around her sports top. She also took a long swig of vitamin water as she grabbed the mat again.

"It must be my lucky day." The voice startled her.

She knew exactly who it was. Fabian. The one person she didn't want to see. Rolling her eyes, she turned as she attempted to cover her bare stomach with her water bottle. "And clearly, I have bad timing."

How fast could she jump in the SUV and press the accelerator? Oh, G.o.d, had she really been planning her escape? This man cannot have that much influence over her. Fabian had taken off his bow tie and jacket. Her gaze wandered to his exposed forearms. Why did a man get a thousand percent more attractive with rolled up sleeves? d.a.m.n him. Still, her eyes moved down to his thick wrists and fingers. Gulping, she managed to lift her gaze back to his. He was oh-so-hot, standing in front of her with his hair a bit messy like he'd raked his fingers through it all evening. It made her want to run her fingers through his hair until morning. And then she reminded herself a ton of women had probably already done that.

"I forgot you live above my studio." Pathetic lie. Need to get out of here.

"I've got the sweetest pad in the whole building. You should see it sometime."

She didn't try to hide her eye roll. "I'll pa.s.s!"

He shrugged. "Suit yourself." Pivoting on his heels, he left her to gape after him.