

**Isa

For a man who low-key warned me to be professional at work, Callan was sure looking like a hypocrite. Every day it was something new, some problem, some miscommunication, some expectation that wasn't met. 

As it turned out, I had to pride myself on not murdering my boss for over a week. Everything I did, every report I turned in, every presentation I gave, EVERYTHING had "room for improvement."

Of course, as a businesswoman, I knew that everything DOES have room for improvement. But, occasionally, a person likes to hear they did a good job.

"What, what is it THIS time?!" I finally snapped as I walked back into Callan's office at Jeffery's bidding. Callan's office was becoming my second home. Pretty soon, I was going to pitch a tent in the conversation corner.

Callan raised an eyebrow at me.

"Sir?" I added tersely.

"Better, but still insubordinate," Callan intoned, looking 



**Isa



"Check this again. You shouldn't be missing this kind of stuff during reviews."



That's what the sticky note on my pile of paperwork said when I got to my office Monday morning, a few weeks after the incident where I'd drank way too much out at the bar with my coworkers. I huffed at the little green piece of paper and wondered how long it had been waiting for me. Did this man ever go home?



I picked up the papers and looked them over to find red ink circling a few places where the numbers on the report didn't match up. 



I wouldn't have missed this, I thought. Looking closer at the document, I quickly realized that this paper hadn't passed through my hands until now. Yet, I was the one being blamed for this mistake. How annoying. 



Clearly, it was time to have a chat with my team about how this was supposed to work. They shouldn't be handing things off to Callan withou



**Isa

"... So then Pam said, 'I won't have those kinds of shenanigans in my office!'" David chuckled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a flash of two people I recognized, one of them being Callan. I looked up, locking eyes with him. His eyes flashed at me as though he were angry, then he turned with Jeffery and walked away. 

I briefly wondered why I felt so flustered, as though I were betraying a lover, but then decided to let it go. I was enjoying David's story, after all.

"What happened to Stanley?" I asked, engrossed.

"He ended up quitting. I think another co-worker put ghost peppers in his sandwich, so when Stanley went to steal it, he turned almost purple," David said.

"Well, serves him right for stealing other people's lunches," I decided.

David nodded. "So, how have things been going for you? I think Callan is impressed with your performance."

As we walked to the elevator, I reflected on how easy things were with David. He was funny, witty, and always good for a laugh. I also remembered his arm across my back, and felt a little tingly where he had touched me. "Things have been going well, so far," I replied. "And he told you he was impressed?"

"He doesn't have to. I can tell," David grinned. "Plus, you're one smart cookie. How could he not be impressed?"

"Thanks," I said, blushing a little at the compliment. Not that I didn't think myself competent and needed the praise—I knew I was good at my job. No, it was the person delivering it that caused my blood to heat up.

David stood close to me as we got on the elevator, closer than two colleagues generally would. But I found that I didn't mind.

"I suppose you have a girlfriend at work," I teased after the silence stretched between us. "Or will by Thanksgiving."

"No, no girlfriend at work or at home," David replied, winking at me. "Though, according to some people around the office, you're my work wife. How about you?"

I burst out laughing. "Work wife?! Who said that?" I ignored the rest of his question for now.

He shrugged. "I don't know. A few people. Our departments fit together seamlessly to handle the Luca account so I guess I can see it." David moved even closer. He smelled like fresh linen, and a little bit of ocean breeze. "You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Or something cheesy like that."

I swatted his shoulder, still laughing. "Work wife. Does that make you my work husband?"

"Oh, most definitely," David murmured. "I'm sure people are saying that as well."

My laughter died down as I looked into David's smoldering eyes. "I… er… just got out of a… long-term relationship…" I said, answering his earlier question.

"Well," David replied softly. "I guess we're both single, then."

We shared a long moment of intense silence, before I broke it with a nervous chuckle and David smiled.

The doors to the elevator opened, and David and I parted ways. David gave me a wink as he headed towards the Talent Acquisition Department.

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I tried to pass it off as a heating malfunction with the furnace, but who was I kidding? David and I would fit together so easily, like peanut butter and jelly. Though I was dead set against a work romance, it didn't hurt a girl to dream.

Jonas was grinning at me knowingly as I passed his desk, but I stopped anything he'd been about to say with a scowl. I did catch a small snatch of "not even October yet" being whispered to Rosie.

I rolled my eyes, then walked into my office, surprised to find Jeffery in there with a hip popped against my desk.

He folded his arms, looking me up and down. "Well, you and David are awfully chummy," he grinned.

"Ugh, not you, too," I grumbled, bringing my coffee to my lips.

"I'd set that down if I were you," Jeffery said before I could even take my first sip. "The boss wants to see you."

I blinked, checking the calendar. It was 7:36 AM on a Monday. What could Callan possibly need already?

"Now?" I asked, sounding as bewildered as I felt.

Jeffery nodded, plucking my coffee out of my hands and setting it on my desk. "Now."

I looked longingly at my coffee but decided Jeffery was right. If the boss was summoning me, it was probably best to arrive promptly and without coffee in hand, especially when I didn't have any coffee to give Callan. I might not be his secretary, but one still had to be smart enough to know subordinates did not show up holding things they weren't prepared to share with the boss.

With a small sigh, I nodded to Jeffery and headed for Callan's office. 

The tall double-doors were certainly intimidating, but I wasn't going to let that throw me off. They were heavy, dark wood, which suggested the inside would be decorated in the classical style.

However, when Jeffery leaned in from behind me and swung open a door, I saw, to my surprise, that the office was very modern.

"Nice office," I blurted without thinking.

Callan looked up from his chair, sitting behind a glass-topped desk. "Thank you," he said, shuffling some paperwork in front of him. "Jeffery, you may go."

"Really?" Jeffery sounded disappointed.

Callan frowned at him. "Go." He stabbed a finger towards the door.

Jeffery harrumphed and stomped back out of the office.

"Close the door!" Callan called after him.

It was then that I realized Jeffery was a bit of a nosey assistant. I bit my lip against a laugh as Jeffery grumbled some more and closed the door.

Once Callan and I were alone, the air felt heavy. I tugged on the collar of my blouse. Why was it suddenly so hot in here?

Callan stared at me for a long moment. I swore he was raking his eyes up and down my body, from the top of my head, to the tips of my toes.

"So," he drawled, though there was a touch of ice to his tone. "You and David?"

My jaw went slack. "What, you, too?!"

"Me, too, what?" Callan asked.

"I don't have office affairs," I said primly. "If you're calling me in here because you think there is something going on between David and me—"

"I'm not, actually, but that's also good to know." Callan paused, and seemed to be sitting on something significant.

Whatever it was, I was clueless. "Why is that good to know?" I asked.

Callan's lips quirked slightly and my heart skipped a beat. "Oh, HR nightmare and all that. No, I actually called you here because of a mistake you made in the budget report."

"A mistake… budget report?" I echoed.

Callan nodded. He beckoned me over to his desk, then closer, so I was standing beside his chair. He rose as well and slid a sheaf of papers between us. Not that he had to push it far—we were shoulder-to-shoulder by the time Callan got to his feet. Well, shoulder-to-bicep. Callan was rather tall.

I smelled the delicious scent of bergamot and felt my knees going weak. Images of Callan pinning me against a wall, his hand in my top, his hard length poking me in the belly, danced through my mind. I didn't hear what he said when he started talking.

"Pardon?" I breathed, sounding more sultry than I intended. I cleared my throat, banishing the images, and tried again. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

Callan's lips twitched, and he leaned over. I wondered if he was going to kiss me. My lips tingled.

Instead, he pointed a pen at the offending passage of the budget report. "Right here," he murmured.

I looked down at the papers with a gulp. Ugh, I couldn't believe how juvenile I was being today! First David, now Callan? It was maddening!

Pulling my professionalism back together, I schooled my features into some semblance of seriousness and stared down at the place where Callan's pen was tapping.

"Oh," I said lamely.

"Oh?" Callan repeated. "You make a rookie mistake like this, and all you have to say is, 'oh'?"

Rookie mistake? I flushed with anger, suddenly no longer caught in Callan Arison's spell. While it might be true, it was a rookie mistake, it was rather harsh of him to put it that way. "I'm sorry. I will make sure it never happens again."

"That's better," Callan said with a smug smile.

I wanted to smack him. Not playfully, as I had David. No, I wanted to slap Callan right across the face.

However, I restrained myself. I might not be used to not being my own boss, but I was rather certain slapping the CEO across the face landed you in HR, and, more likely, on the street with cardboard box in hand.

"Yes, you have to carefully review your assistant's work, you know, before turning it in. Especially when you haven't hit your stride yet. Rookie mistakes like this make you look bad to the brass," Callan went on.

I felt my eye twitch. "Yes, sir."

"The brass being me," Callan added, pinning me with a cold glare.

Well, if he could be this aloof and businesslike, then so could I. "I wouldn't call this my assistant's mistake. I'm sure he did exactly what I told him to."

"That doesn't inspire a lot of confidence in your abilities. You know that, right?" Callan said.

I gritted my teeth. Be that as it may, I wasn't going to throw someone else under the bus for my own mistake. "I'm sorry you feel that way, sir."

Callan nodded. "Just do better next time." His eyes flicked to the door.

I got the impression I was being dismissed. "Of course, yes. I will, sir," I said. I started for the door, rather proud that I'd managed to not strangle him.

"Oh." Callan's voice stopped me just as I'd grabbed the door handle. "And Isa?"

"Yes?" I responded coolly.

"I'd be more professional with David, if I were you."












**Isa
For a man who low-key warned me to be professional at work, Callan was sure looking like a hypocrite. Every day it was something new, some problem, some miscommunication, some expectation that wasn't met. 
As it turned out, I had to pride myself on not murdering my boss for over a week. Everything I did, every report I turned in, every presentation I gave, EVERYTHING had "room for improvement."
Of course, as a businesswoman, I knew that everything DOES have room for improvement. But, occasionally, a person likes to hear they did a good job.
"What, what is it THIS time?!" I finally snapped as I walked back into Callan's office at Jeffery's bidding. Callan's office was becoming my second home. Pretty soon, I was going to pitch a tent in the conversation corner.
Callan raised an eyebrow at me.
"Sir?" I added tersely.
"Better, but still insubordinate," Callan intoned, looking back down at the leather-bound folder in his hands. He was standing with his suit jacket draped

Chapter 10 : Rumor Has It