Just a Bit Bossy by Alessandra Hazard
Chapter 13
Nate took a deep breath before entering Ferrara’s office.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
Ferrara lifted his gaze from his computer and simply eyed him for a moment.
“Close the door.”
Nate’s heart jumped into his throat—or at least it felt like it. “I’m not sucking you off again,” he hissed. “Yesterday was a one-time-thing—”
“Close the door.”
Nate closed the door, hating himself for the way his body seemed completely unable not to listen to this man’s commands.
“We’re leaving on a business trip tomorrow.”
Nate blinked. That wasn’t what he’d expected. “What?”
“We have received an excellent offer for a partnership with a European corporation. It’ll open a new market for us in the UK, Switzerland, and Italy if the deal goes through.”
Frowning, Nate studied the grim expression on Satan’s face. “You don’t exactly look happy about it.”
“Ian was the one who normally dealt with that side of the business.” Ferrara’s lips thinned, his unseeing gaze on his computer. “But he can’t leave his family now, so I’ll have to deal with it.”
Nate nodded. He knew his boss preferred managing the video game publishing to everything else the Caldwell Group got involved in. Still, he was surprised by Ferrara’s obvious reluctance—he usually wasn’t one to complain about work, no matter what it entailed.
“What is the problem, exactly?”
“There is no problem.”
Nate rolled his eyes. Sure. “Please. I know you.”
Ferrara raised his eyebrows.
Resisting the urge to stick his tongue out, Nate corrected himself with, “I know you better than ninety-nine percent of people you come in contact with. So please don’t insult my intelligence. This trip clearly bothers you. Why?”
“Even if Ian were available, my presence at the negotiations was requested specifically.”
Okay, that was a little weird. But it still didn’t entirely explain the grim look on Ferrara’s face.
“And?” Nate said.
“The negotiations will take place in Italy.”
Nate was beyond confused. “And that’s a problem why, exactly? Isn’t it your home country? Surely you’ve been to Italy since moving to the US?”
“Of course. The location isn’t a problem by itself. It’s who the offer is coming from.”
“All right, I’m completely lost now. Explain it to me like I’m stupid. Use small words.”
“The offer is coming from OrbitaProm.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“Its CEO is Roman Demidov,” Ferrara said, his gaze turning thoughtful.
“Again, that means nothing to me.”
“Demidov is… well known in certain circles.”
“Ugh,” Nate said, beyond frustrated. “It’s like pulling teeth! Can you elaborate for once instead of being all arrogant, mysterious, and shit?”
Satan shot him an irritated look, but to Nate’s surprise, he actually clarified what he meant.
“He’s a Russian oligarch suspected to be an important figure in the Russian mafia,” he said, without any inflection in his voice. “Or maybe he used to be one. There have been rumors for the past few years that he’s getting rid of the illegal side of his business, but I don’t know how true the rumors are.” The corners of his mouth turned downward. “I don’t exactly move in those circles, so any information I have is secondhand and possibly unreliable.”
Nate tried to digest what that meant—what Ferrara wasn’t saying.
“You suspect Demidov has some nefarious motives? Because of your family?”
Ferrara shot him a sardonic look. “Have you been gossiping about me?”
Nate flushed. “No more than everyone else. It’s common knowledge that your family is… you-know-what.”
“You-know-what,” the asshole repeated, his lips twitching.
Nate glowered at him. “Don’t mock me. So what, you think he wants to use you to get to your family? Everyone knows your family basically disowned you.”
A strange expression crossed Ferrara’s face. He shrugged.
“Then what are you worried about?” Nate said.
“I’m not worried.”
Nate rolled his eyes again. “Right. What are you mildly concerned about then?”
Ferrara said nothing.
God, he was so damn infuriating!
Nate racked his mind. “You’re worried he’s made a deal with your father to get you implicated in something you don’t want?”
After a few moments, Ferrara shrugged, his eyes hooded. “It’s possible.”
Nate was sure Ferrara wasn’t telling him something important, but he doubted he’d get an honest answer—or any answer at all.
“You may leave early today to pack and get your things in order before the trip. Brenda has already bought the tickets. You can get more details about the trip from her.”
“Why do you need me with you, exactly?” Nate said. “You didn’t take me with you to the Japanese trip.”
“Because I didn’t need you.”
“But now you need me? Why?”
“Later,” Ferrara said curtly, returning his gaze to his computer. “Pack for a week-long trip.”
Nate looked at him suspiciously, his Spidey-senses tingling and insisting that something was off, but he knew when he was being dismissed.
He turned and left, feeling baffled and annoyed.
***
“I don’t like it,” Maya said, watching Nate put his charger into his suitcase.
“I thought you had your own charger?” Nate said, looking around and trying to remember if he packed his toothbrush.
His sister sighed. “Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean. I don’t get why he needs you for this trip.”
“I’m his assistant,” Nate reminded her.
Maya humphed, looking as skeptical as Nate felt. “What will you be assisting him with during business negotiations at some fancy Italian mansion?”
Nate shrugged, trying not to show that he’d felt equally confused ever since he’d found out the details of the trip from Brenda—that they would be staying at Roman Demidov’s luxurious villa on Lake Como for the duration of the negotiations.
“Lake Como sounds nice,” he said lightly. “Maybe I’ll visit that villa from Star Wars while I’m there. I’ve always wanted to see Italy but I didn’t think it’d actually happen anytime soon—and free of charge.”
Maya snorted. “Free? I’m sure you’ll be earning it on your knees.”
Nate glared at her, his face warming. “That’s not—that’s not why he’s taking me with him! It isn’t happening again.”
“Right.”
“It isn’t!” Nate said, hating how defensive and weak his voice sounded, even though he was telling the truth. He was.
He grabbed his suitcase and headed out, too annoyed with Maya to say goodbye.
But she caught up with him outside. “Sorry, I was being an ass,” she said, grabbing his arm and hugging him. “Have a nice trip, yeah?”
Nate nodded, dropping a kiss on her forehead.
She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, her gaze serious. “Just be careful, all right? I don’t trust that man.”
Nate could only smile faintly and nod.
He was almost late for boarding.
“Where have you been?” Ferrara said sharply when Nate entered the first-class cabin.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Nate said, dropping himself into the seat next to his boss. His stomach clenched as he caught Ferrara’s dark eyes. He looked away quickly.
Maya was wrong, right? Right?
He looked down, acutely aware of the man beside him. “My sister thinks you’re taking me with you to suck your cock.”
Someone made a choking noise.
Nate flushed, realizing that there was someone else in the cabin—an elderly woman in the seat by the opposite window. She was glaring at him, clearly scandalized.
Nate shifted his gaze away from her to his boss, whose eyebrows were quirked.
“You gossip about me with your sister,” he said. “I’m flattered.”
“Oh, fuck you. So is she right?” He lowered his voice, mindful of the old woman. “Because I’m serious: I’m not sucking your cock again.”
“Your sister is wrong,” Ferrara said.
Nate gave him a suspicious look. “You have to admit it’s pretty weird that you’re taking me with you on what is essentially a vacation in one of the most beautiful places on the planet.”
“It will hardly be a vacation. The negotiations will involve seven executives of seven different companies. They’re just being held in an informal setting.”
Nate narrowed his eyes. He was hiding something. Nate could feel it.
“And are all of those execs bringing their PAs with them?”
“I would hardly know, would I?”
When Nate just gave him another suspicious look, Ferrara sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I’m taking you with me for a very specific reason. But it has nothing to do with making you suck my cock.”
“What reason?”
“Roman Demidov is in a relationship with a man. Making him think that I’m like him would make it easier to build rapport with him and—”
“Wait, what?” Nate said. “You want us to pretend we’re in a relationship?”
Ferrara shot him a rather pinched look. The plane started moving. “When you put it that way, yes.”
Nate laughed.
Ferrara’s expression shifted into one of annoyance. “What’s so amusing?”
Nate just laughed harder. “You—in a relationship—with me!” He laughed so hard his ribs started hurting, but he couldn’t stop. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“Stop. Laughing.”
The look of supreme irritation on Ferrara’s face just made Nate laugh harder.
He stopped laughing only when he felt the plane pick up the speed.
Oh, fuck.
His amusement was gone so fast, it gave him whiplash.
Nate swallowed, looking at the scenery passing by, faster and faster. His stomach tied into knots, his palms feeling clammy.
“You look green. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of flying.”
“I don’t—I didn’t know,” Nate croaked out, trying to ignore the way the plane trembled. “This is my first time on a plane.”
Ferrara stared at him incredulously before cursing in Italian.
They were about to take off. They were about to leave the safe, sweet ground and become a giant tin full of people flying in the sky—
“For fuck’s sake,” Ferrara muttered, and grabbed his trembling hand. “Breathe. Calm down. That’s an order.”
Nate breathed, staring at the strong, darker hand gripping his pale hand. Ferrara wasn’t gentle at all. But it was fine. His strength was reassuring. His insufferable bossiness was familiar and—god help him—comforting.
His hand was warm, dry, and firm.
Nate focused on it, on the calluses he could feel, on the subtle, familiar scent of Ferrara’s aftershave.
He breathed.
It was fine. It would be fine. Millions of people traveled by plane every day. Nothing happened to them. He was being silly.
“It’s never going to work,” he managed, trying to distract himself from the fact that they were going to be thousands of feet in the sky. “Your plan is ridiculous.”
“And why is that?” Ferrara said, gripping Nate’s hand harder as the plane took off.
Fuck, it took off.
They were airborne.
“Because…” Nate swallowed. Breathe. “Because they’ll never buy it.”
“Why not?”
Nate chuckled distractedly. They were higher and higher, the clouds the only thing visible now. He breathed deeper, taking a lungful of his boss’s scent. “Because you don’t even do relationships. You have no idea how they work. And you and me?” He chuckled again, meeting Ferrara’s dark eyes. “It’s just ridiculous. No one will buy it.”
Ferrara didn’t look fazed. “You weren’t wrong when you claimed that you know me better than ninety-nine percent of people. I don’t see why they wouldn’t buy it.”
Trying to ignore the disgustingly pleased feeling caused by Ferrara’s words, Nate shook his head. “I can claim that I know you better than most people do, but that actually doesn’t mean much, because you don’t let people close. Couples have a certain intimacy in their interactions—”
“You have sucked my cock,” Ferrara said flatly. “It doesn’t get much more intimate than that.”
Nate scowled at him. “I’m not talking about that kind of intimacy. Sex doesn’t equal emotional intimacy. You should know that better than anyone.”
Ferrara shrugged, conceding his point. “Then what do you mean?”
“People in relationships… they touch each other outside of sex—”
“You touch me all the time. In fact, you’re touching me right now.”
Nate glared at him, but he had to admit Ferrara did have a point. As his PA, Nate was used to touching him and being manhandled by Ferrara all the time.
“Still,” he grumbled. “People in relationships smile at each other and stuff.”
“Your arguments are getting more illogical by the minute,” Ferrara said, smiling condescendingly.
Asshole.
“Your superior smiles don’t count!” Nate argued, playing with Ferrara’s fingers absentmindedly as he tried to come up with better arguments. How could he not see that it was a terrible, ridiculous idea?
“People in a relationship kiss!” he finally said.
Ferrara’s forehead wrinkled. “No one would expect me to kiss you in front of everyone during serious business negotiations. That would be just tasteless and immature.”
Nate had to admit he was right. “Still,” he said. “I don’t like lying to people.”
“You wouldn’t have to lie to anyone. Just keep your mouth shut, stick close to me, and smile. It’s not hard.”
Nate frowned. “And that’s all I’ll have to do? You promise?”
Something shifted in Ferrara’s expression.
Nate tensed up. “You are not telling me something.”
“It would be helpful if you build good rapport with Luke Whitford, Demidov’s lover,” Ferrara said at last, clearly carefully choosing his words. “He will likely be more honest and straightforward than Demidov.”
“Why me? Why can’t you do it yourself?”
“He won’t talk to me. But you… everyone talks to you. You seem—honest.”
“Honest?” Nate said, torn between laughing and rolling his eyes. He settled on doing both.
“Kind,” Ferrara said, looking like he’d swallowed a lemon. “Friendly.”
Nate snorted. “Right. No one would call you kind or friendly. So what, you want me to spy for you?”
The look Ferrara gave him was distinctly unamused. “Not spy. Just do your usual thing. Smile. Look approachable and friendly. Steer the conversation toward Demidov and me. I hear Luke Whitford is pretty talkative.”
“But wouldn’t Demidov know that you’re actually straight? You’ve never been seen with a man.”
Ferrara shook his head. “It doesn’t mean anything. Demidov allegedly dated only women too until his relationship with his Englishman.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Nate said with a sigh. He didn’t know why he’d even bothered to argue—his demon of a boss never changed his mind once he made a decision.
“Fine,” Nate said, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.
His hand was still in Ferrara’s when he fell asleep.