Chapter 22

My face reddened with embarrassment.

"You've got it wrong," I objected. "I was just looking at the latest edition of Social Scene."

He grinned and I slowly realized he was joking.

"Ha ha," I said, sarcastically. "Very cute, Charles." I plunked back down on the couch and navigated back to Social Scene's homepage.

He sat gracefully in the chair across from me. "Did that scare you?"

There was no teasing in his voice, and no judgement. I looked up and saw he was looking at me with open curiosity.

I touched my neck. To my horror, I felt my insides warm at the memory of his touch. I hadn't liked it at that moment, but the memory of it... that was different.

I shook it off. There was no way I was going to allow myself to enjoy physical contact with Charles like that. Alphas were dominating, sure, but unless I had given my consent, I was not going to even think about being okay with that kind of touching.

"It's never fun to be reminded of one's own vulnerability," I said honestly.

He nodded thoughtfully. "This is something I'm learning a lot about, believe it or not. My instinct is to enforce my will at every step, to constantly show people I'm superior."

He tapped the coffee table between us thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about that old phrase 'you catch more flies with honey' and how it relates to business. Making people feel weak is an Alpha move, but it isn't honey."

I nodded. "That's true."

"And if you actually get to know a person who is a subordinate, you can tell when they need honey and when they need the chokehold." He grinned at me. "It's a better form of mind control, because then they don't automatically resent you."

"I didn't need to chokehold," I said.

"I know. So here's some honey instead: To make it up to you, I'll buy you dinner."

I rolled my eyes.

"Kidding! How about I teach you how to get out of a chokehold. Have you ever had self-defense training?"

"No, but I'd love to have some. I think every female should have it."

He nodded. "Particularly if you're going to be a reporter for Social Scene. Those people get death threats all the time. One guy even got punched at a theater premier last month."

"Wouldn't happen to be a guy with a shaved head and who smells like feta cheese would it?"

Charles laughed. "That's the one."

I nodded, thinking of Stan. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Great. I'll reserve a space with the gym then. Now, what do you think about some big, hot sandwiches and soups tonight?"

He held out his phone with some photos of a restaurant. I took it, glancing through and picking out what I want.

"Can we...?" I started to ask, a little shy.

"What is it?" Charles asked, his face suddenly alert. "You look like you're going to ask something embarrassing so the answer is absolutely yes, Elena."

"I just wondered if you'd split that coconut cake dessert with me."

He laughed and nodded. "I love it. Of course."

We fell back into companionable silence for a few minutes, him typing away on his phone, me getting more depressed looking at back issues of Social Scene.

"I'm confused," I finally said, interrupting Charles and unable to hold it in any longer.

"What?"

"You're a business man. You're the boss. Surely it can't be a good model of operations for Social Scene to be sued constantly and to run stories that aren't substantiated."

Charles put down his phone and looked at me. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't discern. Was it admiration? Was it curiosity?

"Interested in business, are you?"

"Not really. I mean, yes, obviously because it affects my life, but I'm looking at this from a journalistic ethics point-of-view, and it seems my perspective isn't widely shared."

Charles nodded and stood. He stretched his lean, muscular body and walked toward the window.

"I just want to do a good job," I said to his retreating back.

"I know that it seems like a waste of time to you, and believe me, I get that perspective. But as a businessman I look at the numbers."

He went to his desk and pulled up something on his screen. He gestured for me to come look. I got up and walked around his desk and stood next to him, suddenly aware of his vetiver scent.

I shook my head and refocused on the spreadsheets he'd pulled up. He pointed at the column labelled Social Scene and another that was Sporting Report. Both were at the top, and both had almost equal amounts of money in the plus column.

"These are our two biggest money-makers. People love to read this stuff."

"But even with the number of times you get sued?" I asked. "Surely the libel issues are an enormous deficit."

"I'll tell you what the deficit is, the lawyers we have!" Charles sat and sighed. "They're the best, and they know people who threaten to sue often can be mollified with an apology and some free publicity of their own."

"Sal, or I guess Sally to you, is very savvy about how she handles those things."

I leaned a hip against the desk and looked down at him. I noticed his eyes dilated slightly and he leaned toward me.

"Mm," he said, taking a deep inhale in my direction.

A knock on the door interrupted him and when he opened his eyes, they were clearer.

A thrill went through my body. He really did seem to want me. How was it possible?

He was striding toward the office door, exchanging food, and signing something with the delivery service, and then came back to the coffee table.

He pulled out cartons and peeked inside, delighted when he saw the size of the white, fluffy cake.

"I'm so glad you're a dessert person," he said. "Now I can order whatever I want."

"Oh, please," I said. "You do exactly what you want anyway."

He grinned over a sandwich. "That's true. I just said that to make you feel better."

"Wow, thanks."

He took an enormous bite and smiled as he chewed. "Delicious. I'm hungry. My workout was pretty intense. And it's all better with you here."

"Why so rigid with your times?" I asked, remembering he had been adamant about eating at 8:30.

He shrugged. "Part of my responsibility as the boss and Alpha is to be in the best shape I can be, mentally and physically, so I can do my job well. I'm the one who people go to with problems, and I need to be on the top of my game energy-wise."

He took a sip of his water. "And a lot of that is keeping my food and exercise good, and making sure I have helpers like you around. I can't let my energy ebb at the wrong time or the company, and it's employees, might suffer."

I was surprised. It sounded like a lot more pressure and responsibility than I'd realized. I'd thought it was all about making money and gaining power.

"Is that stressful?" I asked, opening a carton of thick, creamy lobster bisque.

Charles shrugged. "It's what I'm made for."

We ate in silence for a moment, but my mind was ticking. I hadn't thought of things from his point of view before and it was daunting.

"Do you get to relax?" I asked, putting down my sandwich and looking at him with concern. Surely that kind of lifestyle wouldn't be healthy in the long run.

"When I have people I know do a good job in place then I can relax a little. Like your boss, Sal. I know what she's doing isn't the greatest thing for the universe and maybe even isn't good journalism. But she's good at what she does, she makes a ton of money for the paper, and she can handle everything that comes her way.

"I let her thrive in the way she knows how, because it's working for all of us and she knows what people want. Easy and eye-catching. Why would I try to change that when she's got it down?"

This was indeed interesting psychology.

"So, it goes back to what you were saying about getting to know your subordinates and finding their strengths?"

"Yes."

I looked at him with what felt like new eyes. I hadn't realized he had such a handle on both psychology and business.

He saw me watching him. "Surprised I'm more than a pretty face?"

I smiled and looked away. It was as if he'd read my mind. We ate in silence again.

"And so my role as your subordinate is to keep you... keep you what? I guess I don't understand."

He put down the empty sandwich wrapper and reached for another container. "I don't know exactly, Elena. All I know is that I seem to function better with you around."

"So this," I gestured between us. "This thing we are doing is for the company, not you?"

He laughed. "If that makes you more willing to come up two stories to eat with me, then yes."

He dug his fork into the cake and took an enormous bite.

"Hey!" I said, reaching out for it. "Save some for me!"

He held it just out of my reach until I muttered "Jerk," and he gave it to me with a smirk.

And yet maybe I was wrong, I thought, as I took a bite of the sweet, light cake. Maybe he wasn't as big of a jerk as I'd recently thought.

As I chewed, I thought about what Charles had said about what Sally and readers of Social Scene wanted: Easy and eye-catching.

I thought I had done that, but obviously I needed to go back to the drawing board. My writing skills were good enough that I knew I could figure it out eventually. Luckily, Sally seemed willing to give me time.

I would keep doing my research at the orphanages and tinker with the title and tone until Sally said yes.

"What are you thinking about?" Charles' voice cut through my train of thought and I realized I'd stopped mid-chew.

I smiled.

"I'm planning the next line of attack on my orphanage story."