Tempt Me: A Second Chance Billionaire Romance (Me Series Book 2) Read online

  She smiled. "You don’t have to tell me."

  "I'd really appreciate it. There's no need to have you lose all respect for me in the first hour."

  She eked out half a smile then dropped her gaze back to her phone, fiercely slamming her thumbs against her phone's keyboard.

  I tightened my lips and shifted my gaze to the graying hair sticking out from under the cabbie's baseball cap.

  "Look at it this way, you ran into me for a reason. Your luck may very well be turning around."

  "Or I could be headed for another disaster." I laughed.

  She looked up from her phone. "Yeah, the second sounds more plausible, knowing my boss. Oh, and just remember this is a temp job—no benefits, and definitely no job security."

  I shrugged. "It's definitely better than what I have now, so I'm grateful."

  The cab slowed in front of the opulent building. It was one of the largest and most beautiful in the city; made of steel and glass, there wasn’t one visible rivet in the entire structure. It looked like it was being held up by nothing more than the grace of God.

  Slowly, I stepped out of the cab, waiting at the curb while Summer paid the cabbie. She readjusted her outfit and slid her phone into her purse.

  She leaned in, and whispered, "Just remember, he's a jerk, and he's needy. Just keep reminding yourself that this is temporary and it should get you through the first few days."

  "How long do you think I'll last?"

  She backed away and eyed me up and down. "You look sturdy enough—a week."

  "Then what?"

  "Then I will have to find another sucker—err—I mean another assistant." She chuckled.

  I crinkled my nose. "Really funny."

  She took a purposeful step toward the giant front entrance. "Hey, I have to have my fun sometimes."

  I inhaled a deep breath and followed her through the main entrance. I shuffled behind her confident steps, hoping not to spill a single drop on the clean white marble floors. I could feel the heat from the dirty glares barreling into me. I knew my disheveled appearance made me stick out like a sore thumb, and I was thoroughly intimidated and humiliated. I bit my bottom lip, mustering the courage to tell Summer I couldn’t take the job, but then the nagging ghost of rent coming due tugged at me.

  Stepping into the elevator, Summer's eyes firmly locked onto my outfit. "I didn’t even realize."

  "Realize what?"

  She took her jacket off and handed it to me. "Here put this on."

  I handed her the tray of coffee and slid on the jacket, adjusting it over my outfit as best I could.

  She continued to pore over every inch of me, disapprovingly shaking her head. "Here, let me fix your hair."

  Before she could lay a hand on my wild tresses, the elevator doors opened to a stark, white, minimally staged office with a large, vibrantly colored painting hanging behind the receptionist desk.

  I left her standing alone in the elevator, her hands hanging midair still prepared to fix my hair.

  My eyes widened, taking in the immaculate condition of the office space. "Wow, everything is so clean."

  "That’s how he likes it. No fuss, no muss—something about a messy past and never wanting to—" she paused, "—well, I've said too much already."

  "Is he paying penance or something?"

  "Who knows? He's a man. What the hell do I know about men except that they like their women and steak the same way—hot and waiting on the table when they get home from work."

  "The table?"

  She shrugged, brushing by me. "It's how my husband likes it."

  "Lady in the streets, and a freak in the sheets, huh?"

  "You know it." She winked, setting her purse on her desk. "I'm gonna go talk to him first. Your outfit is not exactly what he's used to—" she glanced over her shoulder then back at me, "—but I'll just have to remind him of how desperate he is."

  I readjusted her blazer. "Hey now. I don’t think I look that terrible."

  She paused, pursing her lips. "Hmm."

  "What?"

  "Just have a seat, and I'll be right back," she said, shooing me to a hard metal waiting room chair as she grabbed the coffee tray from me.

  I watched her walk down a wide hallway, doling out each cup to a hand sticking out of an open office door. It looked like a well-rehearsed play taking place right in front of me. That woman had everything—looks, sass, and that asshole boss of hers wrapped around her little finger.

  I crossed my legs and exhaled, panning the office decor, wondering what kind of square liked such stark surroundings.

  It was another two minutes before Summer reappeared, visibly annoyed by the stomp in her step.

  She placed her hands on my shoulders. "Okay. He's agreed to meet you. Are you ready?"

  "I dunno. Am I?"

  She squeezed both my shoulders and stared directly into my eyes with her beautiful emerald greens. "Not for a million years, but it's now or never, so put your big girl panties on and don't stare directly into his eyes."

  "I feel like you're more nervous than I am."

  "Just a little," she said, tugging me down the hallway.

  Chapter Three

  She knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence before a deep voice on the other side beckoned, "Come in."

  Summer pushed the door open and stepped to the side. The minute I walked in front of her, I felt a hard shove to my back and a cold breeze from the wooden door slamming behind me. I felt like a piece of meat being thrown into the lion's den.

  I set my gaze on the floor, remembering Summer's warning to keep my eyes to myself.

  "Are you just gonna stand there?" the stern voice asked.

  "Umm—I—" I stuttered.

  "There's no umm in this office."

  "I'm sorry, I…" my words trailed as his familiar voice unlocked years of pent up memories.

  My chest tightened as I stepped forward, my eyes widening as I took note of his dark black hair. Slowly, he looked up from the desk, my jaw dropping, my heart skipping a beat, maybe two. It was like a day hadn't passed. His chiseled jaw and broad shoulders sparked an undeniable quiver between my legs and a churning in my gut that mimicked the stomach flu I'd had last Christmas.

  "Hannah!"

  I shrunk back. "Ryder?"

  "What are you doing here?"

  "You're the ass—I mean the square—I mean the—"

  He held up his hand, motioning for me to stop. "I get the idea."

  I backed away, wishing I could disappear into thin air. Looking like a disheveled mess wasn’t exactly how I wanted to run into him again.

  He picked up his phone. "Can you give me a second?"

  I cleared my throat. "Sure thing."

  I turned to face a blank white canvas filling up half the length of the wall. My eyes trailed over the stretched material to the single red paint stroke running across the center

  I couldn't help but eavesdrop as he tried to whisper over the phone. "I can't hire her." He paused for a few seconds. "Because it's her."

  Her? What the fuck does that mean?

  "I don't care. Get someone else," he whispered.

  I spun around. "I can hear you, you know. And what the fuck do you mean it's her?"

  His brow lifted as he hung up the phone, watching as I trudged over to his desk. "Tell me what the fuck that means, Ryder!"

  He shot up from his perfectly, plush leather seat. "It means what it means. I can't work with you. Not now, not ever."

  I made it across the cavernous office and to the edge of his desk in a matter of seconds, my body ablaze with anger. "I can't believe you're denying me a job because you were too much of a pussy to deal with things like an adult."

  "A pussy?"

  "Yeah, that's right—a little pussy."

  His brows furrowed and his lids narrowed as he silently stared at me—his chest heaving through his designer buttoned-up shirt. He lifted his open-palmed hand in the air, forcefully bringing it down on the fresh cup of
coffee, which Summer had just delivered, smacking it off the desk. The cardboard cup exploded the minute it hit the ground, spilling black coffee all over the floor.

  RYDER

  I looked at what I'd just done out of sheer frustration, then back to her. Her body had tightened as she clutched onto her purse. I'd scared her with my angry display.

  "Dammit," I said, reaching out to take her into my arms like I used to.

  She stepped back, and could I really blame her? What a stupid assumption on my part—to think I was allowed to still handle her the way I used to.

  The moment was palpable. Was she going to say something, or was I? My lips parted to apologize for my behavior, but before I could, she turned her back to me and stared out the window.

  I hadn't wanted to see her again—not after the way I'd left. She was the only woman in my life that I'd never slept with, and after spending those few moments with her that last morning—holding her—I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep from crossing the invisible line I'd drawn all those years before. She had been everything I wanted in a woman, but couldn’t admit I needed.

  After all, the great Ryder Thorne didn't need anything. Not money, and certainly not a woman. So I left—I left for the both of us. She didn’t need to get stuck with a rough and tumble playboy like me, and I certainly didn’t need to be chained down to a sweet, caring, beautiful…

  What the fuck am I saying?

  I shook my head as I rounded the table, slowly coming up behind her. "Hannah, I'm—"

  She glanced over her shoulder, her hair gently falling over her soft, pale cheek—the sun, beaming at just the right angle to catch the amber flecks in her eyes. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and tuck the tendril of hair behind her ear, just the way she liked it, but touching her was the last thing I needed to do. The last year had been hell just trying to get her out of my mind, and now there she was—standing in front of me like no time had passed. All that was keeping me from her were a few inches, and my waning will to keep my urges at bay.

  The door swung open, and Summer stormed in like a hurricane. "What are you doing in here?" Her eyes set on the spilled coffee. "I can hear you from down the hall."

  I stepped away from Hannah. "I told you, she can't work here."

  "Well, that's no reason to throw your coffee around like an animal." She grabbed Hannah's wrist and pulled her away, dragging her through the door.

  HANNAH

  "Asshole," Summer murmured under her breath as she slammed the door behind us.

  I was scared to look her in the eye. After all, she'd stuck her neck out, and I'd just added to the chaos of her job.

  "I'm so sorry, Summer. I know—"

  She held up her freshly manicured hand. "No. Don't you dare apologize. He's an asshole, and he needs to learn."

  "I'm just gonna go. This was a mistake."

  "What are you gonna do?"

  "I need to find a job—like now. I was almost desperate enough to work for him."

  "That bad?"

  "Pretty much." I chuckled.

  "I do have a question, though."

  I watched as the wheels in her head turned. "What is it?"

  "What did he mean by it's her?"

  "Remember that messy past you were telling me about?"

  Her eyes widened. "Oh."

  "I'm the messy past."

  "You're her?"

  "I'm her," I echoed.

  "Shit."

  "You're telling me."

  The handle of Ryder's door turned slowly behind her, followed by the creaking of the door. Summer spun around, crossing her arms as she tapped her black stilettos on the shiny tile.

  Ryder stepped out, focusing his gaze directly at Summer. "May I speak with you?"

  Her arms fell to her side as she followed him down the hall—too far to eavesdrop.

  RYDER

  I turned my back away from Hannah. I couldn’t even look at her. Just knowing she was only standing a few feet away from me made me crazy. I wanted to do things to her I'm sure she'd never even heard of—things an innocent thing like her might appreciate.

  "What do you want now, Mr. Thorne?" Summer stared angrily into my eyes. "I have work to do, and now I have even more."

  "I don’t want her working here. Surely, there is someone, somewhere who wants a damn job."

  "No one else will interview with you. The word has gotten around—"

  "The word?"

  "You really wanna hear what they have to say about you?"

  "No. I couldn't care less."

  She shrugged and started to walk away. "It's either her or nothing."

  I grabbed her arm, dropping my head in defeat. "Fine. I'll hire her, but keep looking for another assistant. Send her to my office."

  "Is she going to be safe? Or are you going to fling coffee at her the whole time?"

  "Send her in my goddam office, Summer," I growled through tight lips.

  She attempted to pull her arm away. "Well, if you'd let me go, maybe I could do my job."

  I loosened my grip, allowing her to continue toward Hannah.

  What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

  Walking into my office, I caught sight of the pooled coffee on the floor. I was slightly ashamed of my behavior, but it's not like Hannah didn’t know I was a hothead, and it wasn’t like I was trying to impress her into bed—so fuck it.

  The door closed quietly behind me, and I could feel her stare drilling into the back of my head.

  "Do you know what this job entails?" I asked, my eyes still set on the coffee.

  "Summer said I need to do what you—"

  I spun around. "No. You need to anticipate what I need before I need it. If you can't do that then…"

  I watched her demeanor, hoping she would decline the job and walk out the door.

  She twiddled her thumbs for a moment, then bit her bottom lip as she looked out the window. Why the fuck did she have to bite her lip like that? What the fuck was she trying to prove?

  Her gaze trailed back from the window, "Then what?"

  Goddammit!

  I stepped back then turned to move toward my desk. "This is a twenty-four-hour job. If I call you at one in the morning or two in the afternoon, all I want to hear is I'll be there."

  "Okay," she whispered.

  "Okay?"

  "Okay."

  "Okay, then. Pick up my dry cleaning and take it to my apartment. Then pick up my dinner—Summer knows—leave it on my counter. I don’t want it to be cold, so make sure to pick it up right before I get home at five."

  "I don’t need to ask Summer about your dinner."

  "Why's that?"

  "Richie's, right?"

  I didn’t reply. I'd forgotten how well she knew me—how much of my adult life I'd spent with her—how much of myself I'd unknowingly shared with her.

  "Summer has the credit card for temps."

  "Temps," she murmured under her breath.

  "Yes, temps. That's what this is—temporary. Is there a problem?"

  HANNAH

  I shrank back. I needed the fucking job. I needed the fucking job to pay him rent. He was just toying with me, and I wouldn't let him win. "Yes, this is temporary." I turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind me.

  With all the slamming his door received, it's a wonder it hadn't broken yet. I made my way down the hall, clutching tightly onto my purse.

  Summer stepped out from behind her desk. "Well?"

  "I have to go pick up his dry cleaning and dinner," I eked out.

  "Are you ready for this?"

  "No, but I need to be."

  "Let me get you the credit card and the list of places you're gonna need to know." She opened a black leather folder lying on her desk and flipped through a few pages. "Here it is." She pulled out the paper and made a copy of it in the small, sleek, black copier hidden in the cabinet behind her.

  "This has his address, the code to get into his apartment, some of his favorite places, and wher
e to get his dry cleaning." She turned and handed me the warm copy, freshly printed from the machine. "Just keep your head low, and do your job. It'll work out."

  "Have you met him?"

  "I'm still here, right?"

  "Well, you are a beast—so." I chuckled.

  "This is true." She grinned.

  I took the credit card from her hand and stuffed it into my purse. Glancing over my shoulder one last time, I shot her a wink as I stepped into the elevator and pushed the down arrow.

  The elevator doors dinged closed, and the soft rumble of the wheels and pulleys working together to lower me to my destination vibrated through the car. Who would've ever thought when I woke up that morning I'd be seeing Ryder? Certainly not me.

  The elevator doors opened, letting in the light from the enormous lobby. Taking a deep breath, I took my first step toward my new career as a personal assistant. Catering to the wishes of the first and only man I'd ever loved.

  Chapter Four

  RYDER

  Summer walked in with a look that could kill. "What in the hell is wrong with you?"

  "Me?"

  "Why would you bring her here?"

  "Oh, no. Don't blame this shit on me. If your ass could keep an assistant, I wouldn’t have to pull people off the street."

  "Oh, don’t be so dramatic! I can't help if these people are lazy. Why should I keep someone around who can't perform simple tasks?"

  "You run these women ragged. 2 a.m. phone calls. 5 a.m. phone calls. 9 p.m. phone calls. What do you think's gonna happen?"

  I shot up from my seat. "Hannah's on you. If she doesn’t work out, that’s on you."

  "Why do hate her so much? What did she do to you back then?"

  "It's none of your business!" I pointed at the door as I fell back into my seat.

  "Well, if it's not my business, then leave me the hell out of it. I did my job and got you an assistant, now you fucking do your best to keep her 'cause there isn't anyone else. And clean up your damn coffee." She turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

  I rubbed the scruff on my chin, angry that I'd let these two women rile me up. I picked up the phone and called the only person who knew me better than Hannah.