46

"Hold the elevator!"

Scarlett wrestled into her coat as she slid haphazardly into the elevator that morning. She puffed out a breath.

"Sky? Are you in a rush?"

Scarlett turned her head to the girl in the elevator. "Elle!" she cried, throwing her arms around the her neighbour, Danielle, "How I've missed your head of pretty, curly hair and your constant smell of vanilla shea butter."

Danielle laughed and hugged Scarlett back. The girls stepped back and took each other in. "Are you late or something? It's not like you."

Scarlett shook her head. "Not late, but I just want to be there a little early."

"You changed jobs?"

Scarlett nodded. No one knew of her real occupation, other than Grace Vanderpool, not even the most exciting neighbour she had. "Yeah, I work for Ace Hardwood."

Danielle gripped Scarlett's arm. "Ace Hardwood? Wow. He's hot, but from everything I've heard, he's ruthless and scary and overall, everyone just cowers when he walks past their workstations."

Scarlett bumped her shoulder against Danielle's. "Well, if he walked past you, he wouldn't be able to help himself. He'd be all over you."

Danielle threw her head back and laughed, making her curls bounce. "I've missed the boosts of confidence you give me. We should hang out some time. Seriously, just walk across the hall into my house at three in the morning and let's just hang out."

Scarlett chuckled, inspecting her reflection in the mirror as the elevator stopped at the ground level. "For sure. I'll see you later, Elle."

"Have a good day, Sky."

Scarlett slid into the town car that was waiting for her and was standing outside Ace's door, ringing his bell before she even knew it.

When Ace opened the door, he was already dressed and looked ready to start the day. "Ambrose, come on in. You're early."

"Well, not too early, you're fully dressed."

Ace's smirk returned. "Were you hoping for something less formal?"

Scarlett rolled her eyes, following him into his penthouse, while marveling at its beauty. "If I wanted to see you less than fully dressed, I already would have," she said, as he led her over to the breakfast counter, where he had been having a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper, as he did every morning.

"You're quite confident in your abilities," he commented, sitting down.

"That makes the two of us."

Footsteps on the tile made Scarlett turn her head as a girl with her short bob held off of her face with a red bandana walked in. The young woman looked from Ace to Scarlett and then leaned against the wall, a mischievous smile crossing her face.

"Ace," she mused, giving his name way more syllables that it actually had, "Who's this? Are we all having another round?"

She giggled, conspiratorially, as Scarlett looked at her with shocked amusement.

"She's my PA," Ace said, nonchalantly, not looking up from his newspaper.

The woman straightened herself. "Oh." She sounded almost disappointed. "Well, I have to change and get to work, so I'm going to go." She waggled her fingers at Ace and left.

Once the door closed, Ace looked up at Scarlett. "Have you had breakfast?"

Scarlett nodded. "I had a protein bar before I left home."

Ace lowered the newspaper. "What are you? Sixteen? A protein bar isn't breakfast."

"Oh, I'm sorry, my lord. Not all of us are billionaires to have our housekeepers whip us up an easy three course breakfast," Scarlett rolled her eyes and tucked her hair behind one ear.

"Sit down," Ace fluffed his paper, "Belinda will be here at any moment at I don't leave the house without any breakfast. Proper breakfast. Tell me what I have on my personal schedule today."

"Nothing," Scarlett told him, sitting down in front of him, "Your personal life isn't the busiest."

"Good. I have more time to work."

"That's sad," Scarlett reached for a banana that sat on the fruit dish.

"That's business," Ace lowered his paper to look at Scarlett over it.

She locked eyes with his as she slowly peeled the banana. Without flinching, without blinking, she held his gaze and raised the banana to her mouth before taking a bite. Ace watched her mouth, her lips.

He raised his newspaper again. "If you want to do that, all you have to do is ask."

Scarlett snorted as the door opened.

Belinda, Ace's housekeeper appeared and blinked at the unfamiliar presence at the breakfast counter.

"This is my PA, Scarlett Ambrose," Ace introduced, making Belinda nod in realization. She knew that Ace wasn't in the habit of keeping his female conquests in his house any longer than necessary and realized that something was wrong. "I'll have two eggs with toast, please. And she'll have one egg, I think. She's already had quite a bit of banana."

Scarlett snorted, almost choking on her bite of banana. "I can handle a lot more than just one tiny banana."

Ace had to lower his paper to look at the girl, amused. "I'm sure you can."

Belinda blinked, but got to work and set two plates down in front of the both of them. Scarlett smiled up at her. "Thank you," she sighed.

Happily, she tucked in, not remembering the last time she had a warm breakfast cooked for her. Belinda smiled at the young girl. Ace folded his paper and set it on the counter, surveying Scarlett's expression, but he said nothing.

"Did anyone call on my personal phone?" he asked.

Scarlett took a bite out of a piece of toast. "About that. Shouldn't your personal phone be, I don't know, on your person?"

"I don't have the time or patience for the people who might call," was the only explanation she was offered.

"You said you need your suit before four?" she asked and Ace nodded. "The schedule Gretchen sent doesn't have anything planned for after work."

Ace put his fork down. "Let me make this clear to you: you aren't here to look into or question my schedule. You're here to make sure I keep my personal appearances, nothing else. The only reason you are given my work schedule is to let me know if there are any clashes in timing. Do you understand?"

"I'm just saying, if you have mysterious rendezvous in your mind that you don't tell me about, I might have a hard time making sure you avoid clashes." Scarlett brushed the crumbs off of her fingers.

"I'll worry about my mysterious rendezvous."

The young woman shrugged and got up to take her plate over to Belinda. "Thank you," she said, gratefully, handing the plate into Belinda's outstretched hand, "It was delicious."

Belinda tittered at the compliment.

"You can flirt with Belinda later, Ambrose. We've got to leave."

Scarlett sighed and walked out of the kitchen to see Ace slipping his coat on. He nodded to the couch. "That's the suit I need altered. Just tell Giuseppe that I need it done like the last tux."

Scarlett picked it up and folded it over her arm. She followed Ace out the door and into the glass elevator that looked out on to the city.

She couldn't help the smile that overcame her face as the elevator descended, having always had a love for glass elevators. She looked over at her boss.

"Your collar's crooked," she said, and nonchalantly reached out to fix it for him, without even thinking.

Ace eyed her after she had fixed it, but said nothing.

"Be back in the office as soon as you've handed it over to Giuseppe and only to Giuseppe," he ordered, as they exited the elevator. Ace walked to his car, as Hank, his driver opened the door for him.

Scarlett walked to the car that Ace had assigned to her and got in, telling her driver, Vince, where to take her.

When she walked into the store, the bell above the door jingled and the man at the counter looked up at her. He sat in front of high racks of various fabrics. There was a tape measure around his almost non-existent neck and even though his face was meant for joviality, he was scowling at the stranger in his store. "Hi," Scarlett said, brightly, "I'm looking for Giuseppe."

The burly man crinkled his nose, making his mustache twitch. "Giuseppe's busy," he said, gruffly, "What do you want?" The man didn't seem to take well towards strange women.

"I have to hand this over only to Giuseppe," Scarlett waved the suit she had, "Mr. Hardwood said that I can hand this over only to Giuseppe."

The man's demeanour changed completely. "Ace Hardwood?" he asked, brightly, clapping his hands together and coming around the counter, a bright smile on his round, pink face, "Why didn't you say so? I'll take you right away. Come! Come!"

He ushered Scarlett into the shop. "You know, we really only serve our old customers," he told her, jovially, "We like to keep our suits in the family, you know? Ace Hardwood really loves Giuseppe's suits. He's a really good customer."

The man went on at a tangent about the superiority of Ace's taste as he took Scarlett into a bright back room with another two men. "Giuseppe!" the man at the counter called the tall, slim man who looked Scarlett up and down over his half-moon spectacles.

"Something from Ace Hardwood," the man said, gesturing to Scarlett.

Giuseppe raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Hardwood?" he asked Scarlett.

She held up the suit in her hands. "He wants this altered by three today," she smiled, "He said to do it the exact way you did the last tuxedo. He really loves that."

Giuseppe's face broke out into a smile. "He really did like that tuxedo," he said, taking the suit from Scarlett, as the other men left the room.

He took the suit out and inspected it. Scarlett stood there, not knowing what to do. "Who are you?" he asked Scarlett, as he scrutinized the jacket, "Mr. Hardwood doesn't send women to me. The only one he likes is his secretary, and you're not her."

"I'm his PA, Scarlett," she said, "What do you mean he doesn't send you women?"

"Ace Hardwood is particular about everything in his life, especially his suits and the company he keeps," Giuseppe said, knowingly, "And he doesn't send women willy-nilly on errands about his suits."

"I don't know what to tell you, Giuseppe. He's a strange dude."

Giuseppe looked at Scarlett over his spectacles. "Is that what you think of him?"

Scarlett shrugged, noncommittally, and nodded.

Giuseppe eyed and mm'ed. "I'll have this ready for you by three."

"You're an absolute star, Giuseppe," Scarlett gushed, making the old man smile, "I'll back at three."

Scarlett walked out, still puzzled by what Giuseppe had said about Ace and how he doesn't send women on his errands. Ace obviously liked women, which was apparent from the girl in his apartment that morning.

Pondering on Ace's strange mannerisms, Scarlett trudged down the hallway towards her office. She smiled at Gretchen just as Ace was stepping out of his office.

"Good, you're back," he said, "I've sent you some extra things you need to add to my schedule and I need you to find a gift for me to give my brother-in-law for his birthday. I've sent you his name and some things he likes. Send me some gift options. And I need that suit by four."

"A please wouldn't hurt once in a while," Scarlett said to his departing back.

Ace turned. "Get to work, Ambrose."

Scarlett sighed. "Nice to see you, Gretchen. I'll be getting to work."

She eyed the door to Ace's office as she passed it, but knew she wouldn't be allowed in as long as Gretchen sat at her desk. Making a mental note to hatch a plan on how to get in, she walked into her own office and opened up her laptop.

There were various emails she had received from Ace and Gretchen. She clicked open the first one from Ace, which was titled 'CONFIDENTIAL'.

It was a short email and it didn't even have Ace's digital signature.

The email only had two lines: one had a credit card number and the other was a four-digit number, which was pretty obviously a PIN. Her eyes widened and she dove for a work phone.

She pressed one button and called Ace, who was the first person on her speed-dial.

"This better be good, Ambrose," Ace's cool, deep voice came over the phone.

"I know this isn't taxes, or death, but I need to tell you that you've emailed me your credit card number and its PIN and I'm going to delete the email right now, but you need to change your PIN, and also, you really shouldn't be sending your PIN to anyone, especially not via email," the words tumbled out of Scarlett's mouth in a hurry.

There was a pause and Ace's laugh trickled down the line.

"Why are you laughing, you psycho? Someone could be hacking into your bank account as we speak!"

"Calm down, Ambrose," Ace laughed, "Those are fake numbers. But I'm glad your first instinct was to call me. Albeit defy my orders of emergencies only, but I'm glad. Now I know that I can trust you. I'll see you later."

He hung up and Scarlett tossed her phone on to her desk, shaking her head in disbelief. "Crazy billionaire," she muttered, under her breath.

Reaching into her bag, she took her personal phone and dialed Dan's number, wanting to give him an update.

"Yeah, Scarlett? Any news?" he asked.

"I can't get into his office yet," she said, "He doesn't let anyone in there when he's not around, but don't worry, I'll figure out how to get in there. Oh, and he wanted a very specific suit for this evening, but there isn't any appointment on any of his schedules, so he might be doing something that hasn't been publicized yet. There isn't a mention of anything anywhere and his secretary doesn't know either. I don't think I know to even venture a guess as to what –"

"Ambrose, what are you doing?"

Blood drained from Scarlett's limbs as she practically smacked the phone out of her hands, as Ace entered her office, with a suspicious look on his face. She exhaled, shakily.

She lowered the phone from her ear, wondering how much of that Ace had caught.

Scarlett shook her head, looking at him.

Ace's look of suspicion changed into a smirk. "I'd suggest that you call the sex-line after work. Or before. Just not during."

Scarlett scowled, swallowing, nervously, trying to get her heartbeat to relax.

"Add the things in that to my schedule, too," Ace tossed her a notebook and began to walk away. "Oh, and Ambrose, don't act suspiciously."

"Get. Here. Now."

Scarlett flinched as Ace sharply hung up his phone. Staring around her apartment, she wasn't even properly dressed, but she had to leave. Stuffing his precious notebook into her bag, she threw on the first button down dress that she put her hands on and hurried out the door, not even stopping to look in the mirror.

It was twenty whole minutes before the driver pulled up outside Woods Towers and Scarlett hurried up to the fortieth floor.

Ace stood outside his office, tapping his foot impatiently, checking his branded watch. When his eyes fixed on Scarlett, he gave her a savage glare. "You live so far away. I need that notebook," he said, snatching the notebook she held in her outstretched hand.

"I told you to take it yesterday, but what did you tell me?" Scarlett prompted, "That's right. That you don't need it."

Ace glared at her. He leafed through the book, running his index finger down each page. He tapped a spot on one page and slammed it shut. "This," he waved the book at Scarlett, "Always comes home with me. Got it?"

Scarlett sighed. "Got it."

"You need to move closer to the office," Ace said.

"I like where I live, thank you."

He shook his head. "Go get some breakfast, protein bar."

Ace turned and took the two steps to his office door. He turned the knob, but then angled his head and looked at Scarlett with the signature smirk of his crossing his face.

"Oh, and Ambrose? You missed a button."

Scarlett glanced down as Ace's door closed before him to see that she had indeed missed a button, halfway down her chest. Growling internally, she set her bag on the floor. Without even thinking of moving, she faced the closed door and undid all the buttons from the one she missed, all the way to the top and began to button it again.

Ace's door opened again and he stepped out. Raising an eyebrow, he looked at Scarlett's fingers on her buttons. "I don't think this is the most appropriate place for a show," he said, with a crooked smile, clearly amused.

Scarlett left the two top buttons undone and picked up her bag. She took two steps towards him, wearing a smirk of her own. "Anywhere is appropriate for a show." Her blue eyes trailed up from Ace's torso, to his lips and finally to his eyes.

He gazed at Scarlett, his smirk morphing into the slightest frown. "You're a real paradox, Ambrose. Have some breakfast and get to work." He locked his office door, slipped the key into his pocket and walked away.

Scarlett pursed her lips in annoyance, looking at the locked door. Looking around and seeing no one, she walked over to Gretchen's unoccupied desk and opened some drawers and looked under files to see if there was a spare key to Ace's office, but she found nothing. She looked around, trying to find another way into his office, but the arrival of more employees meant that she couldn't go undetected, so she trudged, dejectedly back to her office.

She had just set her bag down on her desk, when a knock at her door made her turn. "You want some breakfast, sugar?"

"No!" Scarlett practically shouted, making Gretchen jump.

The older lady stared at Scarlett's fearful expression.

Scarlett exhaled through her mouth a couple of times before shaking her head. "Sorry, Gretchen. I was just surprised, I guess. Yeah, I do need breakfast, actually."

"Ace told me you might," Gretchen nodded, coming closer to Scarlett, "You sure you're alright, baby?"

Scarlett gave her a tight smile. "Mmhmm."

"Alright, well you can come over to my desk and have some of mine, alright?"

Relaxing her shoulders, Scarlett squeezed Gretchen's hand. "Thank you, Gretchen. I'll be right there."

As Gretchen left, Scarlett shook herself, trying to get the eerie feeling out of her system. She took Ace's personal phone and her work phone out of her bag and walked out, over to Gretchen's desk.

"I have some egg salad sandwiches. Do you eat that?" Gretchen asked.

Scarlett smiled at her, sweetly. "I love egg salad sandwiches, Gretchen. Thank you."

They sat down to eat. "So, Scarlett, have you got a fella?"

Scarlett laughed. "I'm not quite the catch that you are, Gretchen."

The older lady shook her curls. "I'm sure my husband married me for my fried chicken."

"And that's kept him for how long?" Scarlett asked.

Gretchen thought. "Thirty-three years and counting," she raised her eyebrows.

"I'd call that a win," Scarlett giggled.

"He's no prize," Gretchen said, "But he did help me raise four great kids. Always made sure that I had the support to work."

"You're great at your job," Scarlett said, truthfully, "I don't think anyone else could keep up with Ace and his strange ways."

Before Gretchen could say what was on her mind, someone clearing their throat from down the hallway, made the women turn.

Ace was approaching them, a darkened expression on his face, his eyes fixated on Scarlett. There was another man that Scarlett hadn't seen before with him.

With the slightest motion of his fingers, he gestured for Scarlett to leave. The grim expression on his face made Scarlett understand that he wasn't in any mood to joke.

Immediately, she shot a look at Gretchen, got up and retreated into her office.

Gretchen also raised herself to her feet.

"Make sure I'm not disturbed, Gretchen," Ace said, as he led his guest into his office. "Sit." He gestured to a seat at his desk. He walked to his desk and looked at the man in front of him.

Brad Windom didn't seem to embody any of the hostility that was being directed towards him. He stood in front of Ace's desk, one hand in his pocket, an idiotic smile on his face, the picture of ease.

"Is that Dan's secretary?" he asked, pointing to the door with his thumb, "Did you poach her? You dog."

Ace sighed, tiredly. Brad was an even bigger arrogant jerk than he was, and Ace knew it. If he had allowed Brad to have even a moment Scarlett, he was sure that Brad would have set up permanent camp in his office. "She's my PA, Brad. Can we get down to business?"

Brad pulled out a chair and sat down. "Oh, I'll get down to business. Are you sleeping with her?"

Ace exhaled, exasperatedly. "I don't sleep with my employees, Brad. I have principles."

"Yeah, but how do you get any work done with that walking around?" Brad asked, turning to the door, as if he could see Scarlett there. Suddenly, he turned to face Ace, with an absolutely amused expression on his face. "Is that why you were so adamant that we meet at my office? You looked like you were practically going to strangle me when I turned up. Is this one of those 'if I can't have her, no one can' kind of things?"

"Brad, I need you to stop being exasperating and start talking business."

"What's her name?" Brad asked, leaning forward, like he hadn't heard a single thing that Ace had said.

Ace shook his head. "I can't have you harassing my employees."

Brad smirked. "Come on, Ace. I don't want to harass her. I just want to show her a good time."

"The same way you've shown a good time to practically every woman in the city?" Ace made a face.

"Don't be a hypocrite, Ace. You sleep with all the women you want to, too."

Ace shook an index finger at Brad. "There's difference between sleeping with them and leading them on and "dating" multiple of them at the same time. What I have is an agreement. What you have is a brothel. And now, I would like to stop talking about the women and start talking business. Can you please focus?"

"Fine," Brad relented, "But let me tell you one thing: They don't make them like that unless they're trouble."

Ace rolled his eyes. "Brad, if you lay a slimy finger on any one of my employees, I will make sure that you never sell anything in this city again. Got that? You know I can do it."

Brad held his arms up in defense. Ace's eyes drifted over to the wall he shared with Scarlett before turning back to Brad.

On the other side of the wall, Scarlett sat at her desk, scrolling through pages of gift ideas for me, when Ace's phone rang.

She looked at the screen which lit up with an unknown number.

"Hello. How may I help you?" she asked, turning her eyes back to her laptop screen.

There was a pause. "Ace?" said a woman's voice.

"I'm sorry, he's not here," Scarlett said.

"Who are you?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked, almost disgustedly.

"Who are you?" Scarlett asked, confused as to why someone would be disgusted at the voice of a stranger.

"Can I just talk to Ace?"

"I'm sorry, but he's not here."

"Look, I don't really care for your attitude. Who the hell are you?" the girl demanded.

"I'm his PA, and again, I'm sorry, but he's not available."

Scarlett heard a grunt of annoyance. "God, you're such a bitch."

The dial tone greeted a confused Scarlett, who couldn't fathom for the life of her what had just happened. She was about to go back to her work, when the phone rang again. It was a different unknown number.

"Hi, how may I help you?"

The perkiest voice she had ever heard greeted Scarlett. "Can I speak to Ace, please?"

Scarlett screamed internally and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, he's not available."

"Oh," said the voice, considerably less perky than before, "Are you sure? It won't take more than a minute."

"I'm sure," Scarlett said, "I'm sorry, but he's not here."

"Do you know when he'll be back?" the girl asked, slightly hopefully.

Scarlett shook her head. "Sorry, I can't really help you there."

The girl on the other end of the phone sighed. "Alright, well, thanks."

Scarlett chucked the phone on to the table and frowned, wondering what was going on. She stared at it, challenging it to ring again. When it didn't, she picked her laptop up and walked over to the cabinet to work while she stood.

Just as her fingers were poised to type, the phone rang again. groaning outwardly, Scarlett stomped over to the phone and picked it.

"Hello?" she said, rather viciously.

"Who the hell are you? I want to talk to Ace," said a shrill voice from the other end of the phone.

Willing herself to be patient, Scarlett spoke. "I'm sorry, but he's not available."

"You're lying. Just give him the phone."

Scarlett frowned, bewildered. "Maybe you should find a hobby instead of calling men who clearly don't want to talk to you."

She hung up and rubbed her temples, wondering what Ace had done to make all of these women so obsessed to keep calling, even though he clearly didn't answer this phone.

By the time the next call came in, Scarlett had abandoned all hope of being nice and polite. Instead, she decided to have fun with it.

Sliding her finger across the screen to answer the call, she pressed the phone to her ear. "City Cemetery Crematorium. You kill 'em, we grill 'em. How may I help you?"

There was a pause and the person hung up immediately.

Thirty minutes later when the next call came in, she answered it again. "I hope to God you hid the body before making this call."

She immediately heard a click.

"What are you doing, Ambrose?" Ace wandered into her office with a look of utter confusion on his face.

"Women have been calling you and asking for you incessantly." Scarlett waved the phone at him. "I have been verbally assaulted many a time today, just for telling them that you're unavailable, so I decided to have some fun. It's obvious that you don't really care whether they call or not."

Ace approached the cabinet she was standing at, amused. "I guess that explains it."

"Why don't you just get rid of this phone and if you really need one for your sister, just give her the new number?" Scarlett suggested, tossing the phone on to the counter.

Ace cleared his throat and averted his gaze. "I have my reasons."

When he offered no further explanations, Scarlett gasped. "Is it your birthday? Is that why people keep calling?"

Ace's eyebrows raised. "That's actually a very intelligent guess. It's not actually my birthday, but it's the birthday that I've told to these women."

"Why did you give them a fake birthday?" Scarlett crinkled her nose.

Ace shrugged. "I don't want any of them trying to celebrate my actual birthday, or trying to search for me on databases."

"Why do you keep giving these women your number, if you don't even want them to call?" Scarlett asked, crossing her hands over her chest.

Ace chuckled. "I was young and inexperienced. I know better now. Speaking of not knowing better, did you see the man I just met?"

Scarlett raised her eyes to Ace's and nodded.

"His name is Brad Windom. I need you to stay away from him."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, artfully. "Why?"

"He's an absolute douchebag." Seeing Scarlett open her mouth, Ace interrupted her. "Yes, yes, I know. I'm a douchebag, too, but Brad is really just bad news. Do not engage with him. Do you understand?"

Scarlett pouted, making a babying face. "Are you worried about me?" she mused.

Ace rolled his eyes. "I don't want Brad sniffing around my employees. You must stay away from him."

"You know," Scarlett coaxed, mellowing her voice, as she took a step towards Ace, "I can take care of myself."

Ace leaned in. "Sure, you can, Ambrose. Undone buttons and all."

He laughed as Scarlett's jaw dropped. "You keep yourself away from him. Here." He gave her a receipt. "This is from a florist near your house. I need you to pick it up and bring it to my penthouse tomorrow morning. Understood?"

Scarlett looked down at the paper as he walked away. "Fine, but promise you'll be fully clothed."

Ace turned. "Oh, I know that's the opposite of what you want, Ambrose."

Walking back towards his office, Ace pulled out his phone, which had been vibrating like crazy. There were numerous missed calls, messages and emails.

He opened the one at the top, which was from Connor Matthews.

Did you really have to show that girl off to Brad? Now he won't stop asking me to find out about her. He's such a dip-shit.

Ace exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself so that he didn't make a trip over to Brad's office, just to punch him in the face.

He opened the next message from one of Brad's friends.

So, you poached that hot brunette from Dan? Sly move. Is she working for you or is she working for you? Can I get in on the action?

Growling, internally, he popped his head back into Scarlett's office.

"Ambrose, the next time I have someone over in the office, you'd better wear a paper bag over your head."