I circle around the reception area of Chanel’s office for the fourth time and grunt in frustration. The folder in my hand slips just a bit, and I tighten my fingers around it as I head back. This is becoming a tedious game of cat and mouse.
I spot Kiera on the far end of the hallway, carrying a ream and a half worth of paper. I shake my head. For an IT company, the way they conduct certain activities is pretty low-tech. I had thought they’d be the runner-ups in going paperless, but it appears some habits can’t be broken.
I approach her quickly just as she reaches her desk. “Kiera.”
The young woman perks up and smiles at me, “Mr Markinof, what can I do for you?” Her politeness catches me by surprise, given the antagonistic energy that seems to follow me around when I’m on this particular floor of the building.
“Can you perhaps tell me where Chanel is?”
“No idea, but I can check.” She smacks the stack of paper on her desk and shakes her arms loose before leaning over her chair. Grabbing the computer mouse, she clicks a few times and what looks a planner program launches on her desktop.
I turn my eyes away from her screen to give her some privacy. I flick my gaze to her as she focuses on the screen, her mouth moving in inaudible sentences.
“According to the group calendar, Chanel and Jen are tying up the last arrangements for the staff ball.” She grabs her phone from the desk and quickly taps the screen a few times. She flicks her eyes at me before checking the phone once more. “Last message in the group chat said they went to check on the hall décor at the estate.”
I can’t suppress my frown of disapproval. “Both of them?”
Kiera nods.
“Why wasn’t I informed that they are gone for the day?”
She bites her lip and glances at the computer screen again. “I’m not sure, sir. The activities calendar is accessible to everyone in the business.” She turns her computer monitor for me to see, and I run my gaze over the calendar app.
I recognize a few names on the screen, but many of them slip my mind the moment I lay eyes on the bar where Chanel’s name stands proud and mockingly. “The group chat is private, just the committee.”
I nod, “Understandably. Do you perhaps know if she will be back today?”
Kiera lifts her shoulders, “I hope not. She has to get ready for the ball tonight.”
My temper takes a very dramatic highway route at the thought of Chanel being all dressed up tonight. My resolve to avoid the ball dissipates into nothing, and I grab my phone from my pocket and shoot a quick text to my tailor.
Quickly, I straighten, thank Kiera for her help, and all but stomp back to my office. I haven’t seen Chanel since her panic attack.
And since you groped your HR in her office.
My conscience rattles me as I slip behind my desk, the folder forgotten.
I tap my pen on the pile of documents on my desk and almost miss the knock on my office door. “Yes?”
The door swings open, and William strolls inside. “I’m coming by to check on those purchase orders for the new ventilation system for the server room.”
I stare at him blankly for a second before my memory kicks in. “Oh yes.”
Turning my attention to my computer, I quickly print the documents and sign them before handing them over to William. He nods and turns to leave, “Did you know that Chanel and Jen are out of the office for the day?”
William turns around and frowns at me. “Uhm, everyone knows about it.”
“Not everyone,” I mumble under my breath and William chuckles.
“This is why you need a personal assistant.”
I huff, “I can handle my own affairs. I don’t need a handler.” This time he laughs wholeheartedly.
“That’s a new way to look at it. Seriously brother, all you have to do is say the word to Chanel, and she’ll get you someone, before the end of business today.”
I grunt in annoyance, “Well, she’s not here to make her miracles happen, is she?”
William shrugs and makes another attempt to leave.
“Are you going to the ball tonight?”
He chuckles and faces me again, “Of course I’m going. And you should too.”
I shake my head, “Social events aren’t my thing.”
He eyes me for a second, “Funny. You sounded just like Chanel for a moment.”
William nods and slips out of my office, leaving me alone in the space that once belonged to my dad. I could really use some of his wisdom right now. I pick up my phone and find his number. The phone rings twice in my ear before the line crackles, “Saxon.” He answers in his brisk voice, and I inhale deeply before choosing my words carefully.
“Dad, what is the deal with the staff ball?”
He chuckles, “Oh, what a treat that is. Your mother is currently getting her hair done for the event. I trust you’ll be there tonight.”
It was more of a command than a question, and I know he won’t let me off the hook if I skip on it. “Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Excellent. It will be a good opportunity to bond with your staff outside of the work setting. And it’s an exceptional networking opportunity. The entire board will be there as well as some huge stakeholders from the businesses in the area. You should do well to remember that. People are keen to meet the new CEO.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. I’m getting tired of all the attention. I’m here to work, and instead, I’m being shuttled from one meeting to another, shaking hands with some old bigwig that owns two or three buildings on the block.
“I will remember,” I answer blandly.
He chuckles, “Excellent. Now, I hear you’re not adjusting well to the new role.”
My attention peaks, “Who told you that?” I ask, trying to keep my tone as neutral as possible.
“Chanel did. She says it isn’t easy for you to build relationships with the people around you.”
My anger from before obtains a new foothold, “I don’t need her psycho-analysing me at every turn. And I’m not at all impressed that she’s reporting my movements to you like she’s some kind of double agent.”
“Saxon, Chanel is doing what I asked of her. I wouldn’t have offered you the business if I didn’t think you could handle it but letting her help you wouldn’t kill you.”
No, but she almost did. “She could’ve just shown her new boss some loyalty by lying and telling you I’m doing alright.”
My father’s laughter comes from deep in his belly. “Sounds like you haven’t met Chanel Lawrence yet.”
Oh, believe me, father, I’ve met her. I squash the thought and bring the conversation back to the ball, which I am now obliged to attend.
We chat for a few minutes before my father hangs up. I stare pensively ahead before grabbing the folder again and marching to her office.
I’m surprised to find Kiera and Jen chatting in front of the elevator.
“Jen. I didn’t think you’d be back today.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “I’m not. I just came to get my things. We’re on our way out.”
I frown and glance at my watch, “Out? It’s only 3:30 pm.”
Kiera nods. “Everyone is free to leave after three today. To get ready for the ball. I don’t know how they expect us to be finished before 7. But miracles do happen.”
She laughs, and I’m not sure I follow her humour. “Is Chanel in her office?”
Jen nods enthusiastically, but a wordless exchange passes between her and Kiera. I narrow my eyes, “What’s the matter?”
Jen sighs, “I think Chanel is going to skip on the ball.”
My frown deepens, “Why would she? This has been her main focus for as long as I’ve been here.”
“Chanel is not a very social person.” Jen admits, “She may have put in a lot of effort for the ball, but I think the prospect of spending the night mingling amongst so many people isn’t her idea of fun.”
I shake my head. “Not acceptable. She’ll be there.” I affirm and greet them with a quick nod before making my way to Chanel’s office. I’m not surprised when I find her busy at her desk with earbuds in her ears. She doesn’t notice me when I enter, and I have to knock on her desk before she looks away from the computer and pulls out the earpiece.
“I thought you had already left.” She says matter-of-factly, and I shake my head.
“Why does everyone think you’re going to skip the ball?”
Judging by her shocked face, my question caught her off guard. Chanel pulls out the other earbud and meticulously packs them in the case. “I don’t know. I was just finishing up the last few stuff before heading out.”
I straighten. “So, you are going?”
She nods. “I’ll make an appearance, yes.”
“But you’re not planning on staying?”
She shrugs. “Events like this aren’t really my thing.”
I arch an eyebrow, “And yet, you spent a great deal of time and money on this event. So, I think it would only be fitting if you attend.”
She looks at me with challenge in her eyes. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to attend.”
“But you won’t stay long enough to enjoy it.” I complete her sentence and chuckle, “Look, Chanel, at one point, we all have to endure things we’d rather avoid for the rest of our lives, even if it’s for the sake of others.”
I straighten and drop the folder on her desk and turn. “I’ll pick you up at 6:30. Be ready,” I instruct before leaving her office without another glance in her direction. I smirk to myself. I can only imagine the look of pure disgust on her face.
Quickly manoeuvring myself back to my desk, I’m impressed to find my tailor had already dropped off the suit. For the first since I’ve moved into this office, I’ve found a use for the showroom my father had installed when I was just a young boy. I get myself ready and impressively pull on the material of the suit jacket, which fits perfectly on my body. I float about for another half hour before packing up and leaving.
My house is just a 30-minute drive from the office, but with the rush hour traffic, it’ll take me three times longer to get back home.
I detour and head for my brother’s city apartment building, just a few blocks from Markinof Intelligence. Oliver is meticulous and never gets home after 5. I’ll bet big money he’ll be at the apartment.
I stroll into the building and head for the elevator. This is one of the many buildings owned by Markinof Intelligence. The intercom lights up when I press the button for Oliver's apartment.
“Let me in, jackass,” I demand, and he groans.
“With that attitude, you can stay the fuck downstairs.”
I chuckle when the buzzer clicks, and the elevator starts to move. I wait for the doors to slide open and step into the large penthouse apartment overlooking the city. I suppress a whistle when my eye catches the floor-to-ceiling windows that span the entire west wall of the apartment.
“Damn, this is nice,” I whisper and frown when I hear Oliver laugh behind me.
“Yeah, who knew dad was such a great property developer. I’m convinced he missed his calling.”
I turn around, and the sight of my younger brother almost makes me double over in laughter. Oliver is dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and flip-flops. The definition of laid back. If I didn’t know his face, I would've mistaken him for a tourist. It’s hard to believe he is the owner of a chain of internationally known boutiques. The man doesn’t look like he can match a shirt to a tie.
I shake my head in bemusement. “Never judge a book by its cover, I guess,” I respond to his statement as well as the mental idea I had of Oliver, which is in stark contrast with the physical representation in front of me.
He chuckles and pulls me into a hug. I haven’t seen much of my family since I ventured out on my own. Truth is, this is the first time I’ve seen Oliver outside of a family dinner, which is usually a black-tie event thanks to my mother’s insistent need to relive her Casablanca lifestyle. He steps away and circles through the apartment towards the kitchen. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your sudden appearance?”
I nod when he gestures a bottle of carbonated water in my direction. Oliver refuses to drink any alcohol, and I never thought I’d see the day where I’m thankful for that. I prefer my whiskey strong, but I’ll need all my wits if I am to pick up Miss Lawrence in two hours. I shrug and make myself comfortable on one of the big Lazy Boy chairs he has in his living room.
The open-plan apartment is spacious and light and tastefully decorated. If I had more time, I’d analyse every aspect of it. But the comfortable chair that frames my body, distracts me from my usual mental cataloguing.
“I was in the area. I thought I’d stop by.”
He snorts as he walks towards me, handing me a glass. The bubbles climb up the inside of the short tumbler, and the first swig of it is surprisingly pleasant. “It’ll rain cows and sheep before you just accidentally stroll into my living space. Out with it, Markinof.”
He probes, and I laugh. “Okay, I wasn’t in the mood to be stuck in traffic, and I figured I’d wait here until the ball.”
Oliver cocks his head to one side and eyes me suspiciously. “You’re already dressed, and the Edgefield Estate is in the opposite direction of your house. You won't have to deal with the traffic if you’re going that way.”
I nod at his observation and take another big sip of water. The carbon air bubbles tickle my throat, and I have to pace myself as I swallow. “I know, but I have to come back into the city to pick up Miss Lawrence at 6:30. And I’d rather not spend my time battling traffic.”
This makes him carefully place his glass on the table. “Excuse me? What?” He demands in a quiet tone that I assume is usually reserved for talking to children. “You’re taking Chanel to the ball?”
I frown and turn my head to look at him. “Why is that such a surprise?” I ask, and he shakes his head just as a small smile forms on his face.
“Surprise? No. Shock and completely astonishing? Yes.”
“Why?”
Oliver leans back in his chair and casually rests his hands on the armrests. “Chanel Lawrence doesn’t allow herself to be escorted anywhere. I should know. I’ve tried on more than one occasion to take her out.” He waves his hand in the air, “She has this subtle way of shutting a man down before he can even form a decent sentence.”
“Speaking from experience?” I implore, smirking over the rim of my glass, and Oliver throws his head back.
“Fuck yes. Do you know how many guys want a go at the ice queen Chanel Lawrence? Some would kill their grandmothers for a date with her.”
I shake my head, “That seems unnecessary. I think she’d frown upon a human sacrifice being offered in exchange for 2 hours of uncomfortable small talk and mediocre food.”
Oliver tilts his head to the side, “What the fuck kind of dates have you been on?”
I grimace, “The kind that reminds me of prized ponies being paraded before a sale.” I swivel the last bit of water in my glass before downing it in one motion, “As for Chanel Lawrence, she’s infuriating, yes, but hardly an ice queen.”
Oliver hunches forward with his elbows resting on his knees, “How much time have you spent with her? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t enough.”
“So, she’s the beast that shouldn’t be disturbed?”
Oliver nods slowly, “If you hadn’t figured that out yet, then she was being nice towards you.”
I frown in the distance. I would hardly call Chanel's behaviour these past few days nice. Yes, she might have been more of a challenge, but I think people are blowing her personality out of proportion. Especially since I know there is a vulnerability to her that makes her so much more appealing. As harsh as her exterior may be, there is a softer side to her that is not her gorgeous body.
“Why would she be nice to me?”
“Because you are her fucking boss, mate.”
I shrug and set the empty glass on the acrylic tabletop. “Chanel doesn’t seem like the type of person to dim down her personality for anyone’s sake. The fact that I’m her boss shouldn’t make a difference.”
Oliver leans back and sinks into his seat. “Let me put it to you this way. People either like her or envy her. Those who like her don’t know why they like her. Those who envy her can give you a play-by-play of why they envy her. From a distance, she is a tumult of force, and you can easily read destruction in every centimetre of her body language. But once the storm approaches you, it is the most thrilling experience you’ll ever live through. And when you eventually reach the eye of the hurricane, it is the most beautiful display of raw, unadulterated confidence and grace. And pure, honest power. And in an instant, you’re addicted and want to experience the storm again. That is Chanel Lawrence.”
I chuckle, “You just described a natural disaster as something romantic.”
Oliver gives me the eye. “Man, I’ve been in love with the essence of Chanel Lawrence since dad appointed her his company headmistress.”
I shake my head. “In the past hour, you have described Chanel as a woman with a chip on her shoulder, an ice queen, a desirable entity, a weather phenomenon, and a school principal. Why the theatricality, brother?”
He chuckles, “I guess she brings out the poet in me.” He twists his body in the direction of the sun as it floods the living space with soft warmth. “So, how come she said yes to you being her partner for the ball?”
I roll my shoulders as I stand to bask in the late afternoon sun. “I didn’t exactly give her a choice.”
I pull the sleeve of my jacket up a notch and glance at the time. I should get going soon. A thought strikes me, and the temptation to ram my head through the glass flashes through my mind. I turn my attention back to Oliver. “I should be heading out. Any chance you’ve got the directions to Chanel’s place?”
Oliver nods and picks up the glasses from the coffee table. “Sure, Apartment 5, floor 8. That’s 6 floors down from here. And you can’t go now. You’re almost 40 minutes early. That’s just inconsiderate.”
I frown and arch an eyebrow. “You’re being serious right now?”
Oliver frowns at me. “Do you know how intricate the process of preparation is for a woman? I can guarantee you it will not be appreciated if you show up early. She needs every minute she can get to look on point.”
I shake my head. “Not about the time, you twerp. About her address.”
Oliver’s face twists. “What? You didn’t know which apartment she lived in?”
I hike my shoulders up. “I didn’t know she lived in this building.”
Oliver crosses his arms over his chest. “And how were you planning on picking her up Mr I-didn’t-give-her-a-choice?”
I snarl at him for a second before reigning in my temper. He gave me the information I didn’t know I needed. Now is not the time to get ticked off for a little sibling banter. Oliver slams his hands on the armrests and pushes his surprisingly lean body up. “If you give me a half hour, I can escort you. Make sure you don’t end up knocking on some random person's door and risk getting your ass tossed out of the building.”
I roll my eyes. “I hardly think your directions were that cryptic.” I nonetheless wave my hand dramatically, and he chuckles as he disappears into the house.
I return my attention to the city skyline view, which stretches far into the distance. I can barely see the residential areas past the concrete forest. The sounds of life are muted but still present. Nothing is particularly discernible, but I can still hear the city as it winds down for the weekend.
My mind drifts to the last few weeks. It had been difficult, and most of that had to do with Chanel.
Everyone seems to have a very distinct opinion of her. And yet, I can’t form a single functional thought where she is involved. Nearly taking her in her office has further blurred the unstable boundaries between us.
“Hey, Dr Brooding. Let’s go.”
I swing around at the sound of Oliver’s voice and raise both my eyebrows up my forehead. The man has ditched the tropical wear for a clean-cut tuxedo.
“Where are you going?” I ask, and Oliver throws his head back in laughter.
“What? You think I’d skip out on this ball? Jeez, you really are dense.”
“I thought it was for Markinof employees only.”
Oliver grabs his keys and heads for the elevator door. I follow him, eager to hear his answer. “In theory, yes, but it is also a big networking event. If you got an invitation to any event hosted by Markinof Intelligence, you better show up. And I need to rein in a few property developers for the new store I’m looking to set up. Tonight is the perfect time for that.”
I shake my head as we step inside, “And here I thought it’s a chance for the staff to relax.”
Oliver smirks as he presses the button for Chanel’s floor, “It’s a chance to get free food and drunk at the company’s expense. If you’re doing that, then yes, you can relax. But in my experience, events like this are hardly a time for some wind-down time. This is one of the most ingenious, underhanded ways to drum up business around here.”
The elevator dings loudly, and we step off. I follow closely behind Oliver as he makes a beeline for Apartment 5. He knocks a few times, and I’m annoyed that he’s standing in front of her home and taking charge. The door swings open a few seconds later, and the long drawled-out whistle coming from my brother makes me want to grab him by the stiff white collar of his shirt.
“Dresses can’t do you justice, but this one is definitely far from the worst.” He compliments her, and I step out from behind him.
Chanel is standing in the door frame, and nothing I could’ve conjured up in my imagination came close to the vision in front of me. The dirty pink dress clings to every single curve on her body, making me wish for a private moment alone with her.
“High lace halter hiding the V-neck bodice. Mermaid design with chiffon. I have to say, when I saw this one in mom’s collection, I thought there was too much going on. But now that I’ve seen it on you, it’s absolutely gorgeous.”
I have no clue what he’s rambling about, but I can agree with him on one thing. Chanel looks magnificent. The subtle beading that decorates her gown from the neck down to the waist is so strategically placed that it almost looks like they’re purposefully drawing my eye to her ample breasts, which are discreetly hidden behind the lace front. Her hair is pinned up on top of her head, and her full lips are the focal point of her face, adorned with soft pink lipstick. She smiles at Oliver, and that nearly takes me down.
“Well, Christine has a way with material, especially on a build like mine. Thanks for the assist on the last-minute dress. You sure are saving my ass a lot these days.” She comments with a smile that could slay me instantly. My brain instantly glitches at the sound of Oliver having anything to do with her ass.
I’m too busy thinking of new ways to hurt my younger brother that I don’t notice him swooning beside me like a 7th grader.
“I have been wanting to put some clothes on this body for a long time, lady.”
She laughs with her head thrown back, and the chime makes me return to reality with soul-shaking shock. “I have to admit, I was expecting a different Markinof brother at my door. One with a little more manners, but I suppose you’ll do just fine.”
Her jab makes Oliver shake with laughter. “Alas, the honour of escorting you is still Saxon’s. I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t knock on old Mr Caliver’s door.”
She glances in my direction, then peeks out the door down the hallway. “Yeah, not an option.”
Oliver laughs and steps aside, slapping me on the shoulder, “Well, I’m gonna leave you two now. I have to pick up my own date.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he’s already halfway to the elevator. I turn my attention back to Chanel, who suddenly looks uncomfortable. She fidgets with a strand of hair that came loose from one of the pins.
“I’m almost ready. Would you like to come in? I won’t be long.” She says in her usual confident voice, but the nervous twirling of her hair says otherwise.
I nod, “Do what you need to do.”
She steps aside, allowing me to enter. I am immediately drawn to the lightness of the apartment, and it has nothing to do with the afternoon sun streaming through the balcony door. The apartment is spacious, nothing like Oliver’s penthouse, but still large in size. The place is tastefully decorated, but there is an almost natural airiness to the space. I walk towards the centre of the room and spin on my heel to see Chanel, still standing by the door.
"Does Oliver usually fawn over your clothing?" I ask and watch as her eyes widen.
Chanel shakes her head. "No. He provided me with the dress," She responds, lifting her hands in a gesture towards the material.
"Do you often get free clothes from him?" I can’t help the jealousy in my voice.
Chanel’s body language changes and she stares at me, "I don't think that's any of your business, but yes."
"I don't like it."
I don’t miss the disbelief on her face. "Excuse me?"
I stare at her for a beat before clearing my throat, “Miss Lawrence, you should finish up if we’re going to be on time.”
My words seem to snap her into action. She nods stiffly and disappears down the corridor. I take a deep breath as my overactive senses start to gear down in Chanel’s absence. It’s bad enough that I have to compete with William for her, now Oliver is in on it too. I shake my head. I’m thinking like I have some sort of claim over the woman.
Don’t you?
My mind continues to pull me back despite my efforts to clear all thoughts of taking Chanel for myself. The way she melted into my body in her office shook me from the inside out. Then seeing her in this dress damn near gave me a heart attack. If I survive the night with her by my side without taking her down, it will be a goddamn miracle.