Gripped: A Stepbrother Romance (Bonus Story: Stepbrother Forbidden) by Stephanie Brother Page A
Authors: Stephanie Brother
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feel the same way about me as I did about her? This worked great and I hardly ever saw her. I suspected she avoided me too. Either way, I was relieved when her departure date drew closer. One more day, I thought. I just had to survive one more day and then everything would be back to normal. Alyssa would be miles away from me, no longer around to tempt me or feed the pesky hope that there could be something more between us.
***
"Mr. Ashbury, remember you have a dinner meeting with Mr. Dufort tonight at 9 at La Bonne Nuit ."
I looked up from my laptop at my receptionist, Margeaux. "Damn, I forgot about that. Can't you reschedule?"
She looked confused. "No, because you specifically—"
"Yeah, yeah. I remember now. Big new French contract and Greg's on vacation so he can't take this one." I sighed. "Fine."
"You will need a translator. Mr. Dufort does not speak English," she continued, and then her tone got suggestive as she ostentatiously flipped her hair over her shoulder. "As you are aware, I am French, Mr. Ashbury. I can be your translator."
I leaned back in my chair and gazed at her. I'd slept with Margeaux once at a Christmas party in one of my various moments of absolute drunkenness and stupidity. I'd regretted it ever since. Sleeping with a co-worker was bad enough, but sleeping with an employee? Incredibly dumb especially where lawsuits were concerned. She often hinted at an encore, and I always pretended ignorance when she did. At least that was one mistake I had the good sense not to make again.
"Thank you, Margeaux, but that's fine. We've a professional translator on payroll already," I said evenly.
Margeaux's red lips curved in a triumphant smile. "She is sick with the flu."
"I see," I said. "Well, I'll think of something."
"Mr. Ashbury—"
I raised my hand to cut her off. "Again, thank you, Margeaux, but that will be all. I would like to get back to work now.
She pouted and I ignored it by pretending renewed interest in my laptop screen. When she'd left the room, I sighed in relief. I should have fired her a long time ago, but she was an excellent receptionist. It was not a wise practice to fire good employees just because their presence reminded one of their past misdeeds.
Nevertheless, I had a slight problem on my hands. I was to meet with a French client to conduct business negotiations despite the fact that neither of us would be able to understand each other. And even though Dufort would likely bring his own translator, as with lawyers, it was a good idea for me to have one too. Unfortunately, aside from Pam, the company's foreign affairs director and known polyglot, I only knew of two others who were likely translator candidates: Margeaux and Alyssa. Neither of which I wanted to interact with for too long.
Still, a choice had to be made, and of the two, I preferred Alyssa by far. Despite my plans to avoid Alyssa due to past…err… events …I'd much prefer her company than that of the persistent Margeaux. Deciding to take Alyssa to the dinner felt right somehow, and the more I considered it, the better I felt. I had Margeaux order and deliver some dinner clothes to my condo in her size, and I could tell by her self-satisfied smile that she thought they were for her. Nope, they weren't. She and Alyssa looked about the same size. It was the best I could do short of calling Alyssa and asking her to go shop for the clothes herself.
And I couldn't do that. She'd say no. Just as I knew she was going to say no when I asked her to the dinner with me tonight.
But I would change her mind. I was sure of it.
7: Alyssa
"No, and you can't change my mind. I'm pretty sure of that, you ass ."
I scowled at Logan, outraged by his audacity. After avoiding me for days, how could he even think I'd want to help him? He couldn't possibly think I'd forget how he'd made my hope soar before subsequently shooting it out of the sky with a sniper gun?
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice shame on
***
"Mr. Ashbury, remember you have a dinner meeting with Mr. Dufort tonight at 9 at La Bonne Nuit ."
I looked up from my laptop at my receptionist, Margeaux. "Damn, I forgot about that. Can't you reschedule?"
She looked confused. "No, because you specifically—"
"Yeah, yeah. I remember now. Big new French contract and Greg's on vacation so he can't take this one." I sighed. "Fine."
"You will need a translator. Mr. Dufort does not speak English," she continued, and then her tone got suggestive as she ostentatiously flipped her hair over her shoulder. "As you are aware, I am French, Mr. Ashbury. I can be your translator."
I leaned back in my chair and gazed at her. I'd slept with Margeaux once at a Christmas party in one of my various moments of absolute drunkenness and stupidity. I'd regretted it ever since. Sleeping with a co-worker was bad enough, but sleeping with an employee? Incredibly dumb especially where lawsuits were concerned. She often hinted at an encore, and I always pretended ignorance when she did. At least that was one mistake I had the good sense not to make again.
"Thank you, Margeaux, but that's fine. We've a professional translator on payroll already," I said evenly.
Margeaux's red lips curved in a triumphant smile. "She is sick with the flu."
"I see," I said. "Well, I'll think of something."
"Mr. Ashbury—"
I raised my hand to cut her off. "Again, thank you, Margeaux, but that will be all. I would like to get back to work now.
She pouted and I ignored it by pretending renewed interest in my laptop screen. When she'd left the room, I sighed in relief. I should have fired her a long time ago, but she was an excellent receptionist. It was not a wise practice to fire good employees just because their presence reminded one of their past misdeeds.
Nevertheless, I had a slight problem on my hands. I was to meet with a French client to conduct business negotiations despite the fact that neither of us would be able to understand each other. And even though Dufort would likely bring his own translator, as with lawyers, it was a good idea for me to have one too. Unfortunately, aside from Pam, the company's foreign affairs director and known polyglot, I only knew of two others who were likely translator candidates: Margeaux and Alyssa. Neither of which I wanted to interact with for too long.
Still, a choice had to be made, and of the two, I preferred Alyssa by far. Despite my plans to avoid Alyssa due to past…err… events …I'd much prefer her company than that of the persistent Margeaux. Deciding to take Alyssa to the dinner felt right somehow, and the more I considered it, the better I felt. I had Margeaux order and deliver some dinner clothes to my condo in her size, and I could tell by her self-satisfied smile that she thought they were for her. Nope, they weren't. She and Alyssa looked about the same size. It was the best I could do short of calling Alyssa and asking her to go shop for the clothes herself.
And I couldn't do that. She'd say no. Just as I knew she was going to say no when I asked her to the dinner with me tonight.
But I would change her mind. I was sure of it.
7: Alyssa
"No, and you can't change my mind. I'm pretty sure of that, you ass ."
I scowled at Logan, outraged by his audacity. After avoiding me for days, how could he even think I'd want to help him? He couldn't possibly think I'd forget how he'd made my hope soar before subsequently shooting it out of the sky with a sniper gun?
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice shame on
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