Madeline
Jake
I fucked up on Sunday.
I showed her too much emotion. I slipped up on the fact that I might know more about her than I let on and I almost sent her running in the other direction.
Not gonna happen again.
Fighting Anastasia before she settles in on my head should be my priority.
She is supposed to be my cure. Not my obsession.
I’m supposed to get rid of my obsession not indulge in it more.
The thought remains firm in my head till I see her the next morning and the redness around her eyes tugs at the fierce protectiveness in my head.
It’s pretty obvious she has been crying. Not the slight whimper that girls do but a full on crying session judging from the extra puffiness she tried to cover with slight makeup and I want to strangle somebody, anybody that made her spend the night weeping.
She comes up to me when I step down from my car in front of The Keaton’s headquarters and slides into business mode automatically.
“Good morning, Mr. Keaton,” she chirps, “you’ve got a meeting with the CEO of Bings by eight. Want me to set up the conference room?”
She is in a dark suit pants and a plain white shirt and her hair is tied in a neat bun at the base of her neck. Her looks are simple and neat but it is still a nice sight to look at.
I don’t reply her until we are in the elevator heading to the top floor and even then I skip the question and put forward one of mine.
“You didn’t get any sleep?”
She blinks fast. “I did.”
“Don’t lie to me, Anastasia.”
“I got caught up with the files,” she replies and I can still tell she is lying, but I also know she isn’t going to give me the answer I need which is who exactly to punch.
“Can you handle being in the office today?”
She stutters, “Yo—you want to give me a day off?”
“You wish,” I look down at her, “I just want to make sure I don’t have to deal with a crappy old woman attitude today.”
She stops herself before she rolls her eyes but I see the urge to do just that in her expression. “Right, hell would freeze over before Jake Keaton gives his assistant an off day.”
The elevator doors open and she steps out first which turns out to be a good thing for me because she doesn’t see the small smile that tugs on my lips at her sassy comment.
“Set up the conference hall for the meeting,” I tell her as we walk past offices and cubicles while staffs sends their formal greetings my way, “then make sure I’ve got a free hour between twelve and one.”
She taps on the iPad she is holding, “But that is when you have to go meet your mother.”
“It’s happening here.”
“Mrs. Keaton is coming here?”
“No. The lady she is setting me up with is,” My mother set up a meeting with the blonde from the party on Saturday and this time I can't seem to find a way to go around it. Apparently her name is Madeline and I make a mental note to not forget it this time around.
“Oh,” Anastasia’s voice is kind of a gruff, “Okay, I’ll insert that then.”
“Great,” I open the door to my office, “get my coffee.”
Great, we are back to normal, yesterday’s moment washed away with the harshness of a command. I don’t know why I held her like that, why I wanted to keep holding on to her like that, but I saw her there draped in my shirt that was too oversized for her petite body and her long bare legs and I couldn’t get my eyes – and hands – off.
It’s never going to happen again, I’m never going to let myself reach out to Anastasia with anything more than the usual official relationship even though my body might say otherwise.
After coffee the day whips by with more business meetings, decisions and organizing. I love being the CEO of The Keaton’s. I, more than anyone, deserve it because this company was mine and my father’s dream. He built it, I expanded it… speaking of which, he didn’t necessarily have the right to make his other son from another woman the COO of my company. But I’m yet to speak to him about that. I’ve got to make him see reason or force him to.
Knowing my father, it is more beneficial to do the former.
Nobody forces a Keaton to do something, not even another Keaton.
By twelve on the spot, Anastasia announces the arrival of Madeline and I suddenly wished I found a way earlier to get out of this one.
Madeline is dressed in a white slick dress that does a lot to her lithe figure and her blonde hair is fashioned in a style that brings out her symmetrical face.
She smiles when she waltzes in and positions her body in the cushion opposite me in a way that gives me a clear of view of what exactly she is offering.
“Your mother said you’ll be busy.”
“She is mostly right,” giving up, I shut the laptop in front of me and put it away, “busy day.”
“I see. Still, your assistant let it slip you were expecting me.”
“I am.”
“We didn’t get to talk on Saturday. I want to know more about you.”
If it isn’t crystal clear by now, I don’t do the whole dating scene. The fucking scene? Now that’s a different story. But I prefer the women I fuck to be just that, nothing more, I never even let them do the whole morning-after thing because it’s becomes an irk.
And I never ever to do the courtship and dinner date thing unless I absolutely have to.
No, there’s nothing wrong with me, it’s just the way I’m wired.
So forgive me, if Madeline’s tactics comes off as a bore to my wired mind.
“What do you want to know?”
I guide her to the round couch in the corner of the office and pour her a glass of wine from the tiny bar I set up there, before handing it to her.
She smiles seductively and takes a sip, “What irks you.”
I undo my tie and plop down next to her. “A lot.”
“That’s a vague answer Jake.”
“I’m a vague man.”
“I see that,” she slides the tips of her tongue over her bottom lip, “What kind of women do you prefer.”
I give her a rueful shake of my head, “I don’t have a type,” I refuse to add, 'I’m the kind that finds someone or something I can’t do without and obsess over that person till I inevitably destroy the person’s life.'
But I don’t say that.
I have a feeling that it is not the kind of information you slip up on a first date, if I can even call this that.
“What are your dreams?”
I give her another vague answer, “I’ve got a lot of dreams, Madeline.”
She smiles, “Me too,” she winks at me, letting me know exactly what her dreams are before she goes on, “I once had a dream to take over my dad.”
“Who’s your father?” I ask her.
She gapes at me, shocked, “You don’t know my father?”
I probably do, but I never keep the daughters of business partners under my radar, “No.”
She leans forward, “Meyes.”
“Right,” I see it now. Mason Meyes – her father – also has hair as blond as hers and he is the sole owner of Meyes Comp and just happens to be a politician too.
Explains Madeline’s self entitlement.
“Fine, Mr. Vague,” she probes, “Let’s go deeper.”
“Deeper?”
She scoots gracefully over so that there is barely any space between us. Her fingers send a soft seductive trail across my thighs and her lips moves closer to my ear.
“What turns you on?”
I remain calm. “What are you doing Madeline?”
“Trying to turn you on,” she purrs, her fingers inching further.
“It takes more than that.”
“I figured,” her hands slide upwards to my neck and she brings my head down to hers, “there’s more where that came from.”
With that she snuggles her body against mine and leans in for the kiss. Her mouth moves expertly over mine and for a second or three I don’t respond, letting her do her thing. Then I return the kiss with mine as she tries to deepen it.
Yeah, I definitely prefer the fucking to the dating scene.
Madeline will be a great fuck too. If anything, she’ll keep my mind off Anastasia for a few hours which is more than I can ask for.
She snuggles closer to me and I grab her ass through her tight dress and feel her moan against my mouth. She is a good kisser, no doubt about that but while the kiss is good it is nothing compared to the way I felt holding Anastasia in my arms yesterday.
Her hands moves down my body and I feel her about to cup my dick when there is a sharp knock on the door and it swings open.
Anastasia’s eyes zeroes in on us entangled on the couch and her mouth does a cute little ‘o’ as her lashes bats nervously making her whole face go red.
“I didn’t – I’m so sorry,” she falters, “it’s jus—”
“Get out, Anastasia,” I command because having her here while I’m trying to get her out of my head, kind of defeats the purpose.
I feel Madeline snuggle closer to me and Anastasia’s gaze shoots down to her before coming back to my face.
“Right,” she utters, “it’s just that it’s one o’clock and your next appointment is here.”
“Send him off.”
“But he is –”
”If you can't send him off, take him out for lunch for the next hour, Anastasia, Get out.”
She nods rapidly and shuts the door.
Madeline turns to me, “You’ve got an attractive assistant, Jake.”
Trust me I know.
“I don’t see it,” I tell her.
“That’s a good thing,” she trails her hand over my jaw, “right now, all I want you to see is me.”
Great idea. Anastasia can handle whoever it is that happens to be my one o’clock and if he is too difficult to handle, then he should reschedule.
Who was I supposed to see by one o’clock? My brain goes through my schedule as Madeline pulls me down for another kiss. I hand Bings in the morning, two more CEOs to meet with before noon, Madeline and then ---
Wait a minute.
I am supposed to meet the COO of my company today – my brother, Adam – for a formal introduction to the staff and –
I pull away from Madeline, earning a protesting moan from her as I stride up to the huge desk, to grab my iPad and scroll through my scheduled activities.
Dang it! Sure enough, my next meeting is with Adam and I just sent Anastasia off to a lunch date with the man who tried to grope her two days ago.
What the hell?
I grab my phone and march to the door in quick, long strides.
Madeline watches me, horrified, “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Jake, we were in the middle of something.”
“Raincheck on that,” I tell her, “I’ll send someone up to escort you out,”
My legs carry me down the elevator and to the canteen only to find it devoid of my PA and step-brother. Then I move to the coffee shop the company owns and still don’t find them.
Frustrated, I exit the building and wave away my bodyguards before striding down the street for the nearest lunch hub.
I spot them in the second place I enter, in a light conversation with his hand clasped over hers and a sincere expression on his face.
I don’t give a shit about his sincerity.
Marching up to them, I stamp an angry fist on the table, turning my full attention to him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Anastasia is the one to speak up first and her voice is accusatory, “what do you mean Mr. Keaton? You said I should take him out for lunch.”
I round up on her, “I didn’t know it was him!”
“I mean you would have known if you had let me speak.”
Adam speaks up before I have the chance to dissect what she meant by that.
“I was just apologizing to Anna about Saturday,” he explains.
He still has the cuts and bruises from our fight yesterday but I am tempted to remind him – or anyone – that Anastasia is off limits.
I pull him away so that she can't hear us anymore. Luckily for us, the restaurant is practically empty so we don’t receive the stares this confrontation will normally receive.
“I told you to stay away from her.”
He sneers, all traces of the earlier sincerity gone, “I told you I wasn’t gonna.”
“You want a reminder?”
“Listen here, elder brother,” he starts, “Anastasia has a right to choose whoever she wants to be with and with you acting like a jerk all the time I’m sure as hell that it isn’t gonna be you.”
“It’s not about that and you fucking know it.”
“The woman is hot. I’m not letting go of my chance to get my hands all over a hot lady just because you won’t let me to.”
I grab his shirt and shove hard against a table, then offer him the threat in a low growl. “If you dare, Adam, if you dare lay just one finger on her, on any part of her –”
“Mr. Keaton?” Anastasia calls from behind me, “Mr. Keaton you’re hurting him.”
Reluctantly, I let go of his shirt and walk back to her. Adam walks past me and grabs his phone from the table.
“See you soon, Anna,” he mutters before striding off, leaving Anastasia glaring at me.
That’s a first. I’ve never seen her glare at me before.
I straighten my already straight shirt. “You could have told me it was Adam.”
“You told me to get out before I even had a chance to talk.”
“For a reason.”
“I know,” she deadpans, “I saw.”
Why do I feel guilty? She has walked in on me right after having sex before and it never mattered. Why is she making it matter no?
I shrug it off.
“Why would you let him touch you again after what happened on Saturday?”
“He was apologizing.”
“Still, he tried to grope you.”
“He was drunk, we were both drunk.”
I shake my head. Adam Keaton has spent the majority of his life with a glass of drink in his hand so much that I know it is nearly impossible to get the guy drunk.
“He wasn’t drunk.”
“Well he said he was and pardon me, Mr. Keaton but what do you care?”
“What the fuck do you mean –” I stop myself because she is right, I shouldn’t care about that or the people she decides to keep in her life. I shouldn’t care but u do. “Well you don’t expect me to stand by when my brother tries to assault one of my employees now do you?”
She blows out a breath. “It can hardly be classified as an assault, trust me, I know what assault is, and talk of kicking a guy when he is down. The man was already badly hurt.”
Right. “And what did he say happened to him?”
“He was mugged by some idiot.”
I’ve never felt so proud to be called an idiot.
“Well serves him right.” Adam has always been a nuisance to our family. He was born as a result of an affair my father had when we were younger and since then, his main goal has always been to destroy everything in his path - drugs, women, estates. My father has sent him to rehab more than three times and the amount of money we lost because of some bad deal Adam made or sabotaging is enough to build ten to twenty estates.
So forgive me, Anastasia, if I can't stand the sight of someone like that coming close to you.
She grabs her bag from the table and mumbles, “Well you already canceled the meeting so I guess you have more time to finish what you started.”
I grab her shoulders just as she is about to make a turn. “What do you mean finish what I started?”
She shoots me a quiet look and realization dawns on me.
I totally forgot about Madeline.
Right. But —
It also just dawned on me that Anastasia might be a little jealous over me and another woman.