Chapter 16: Breathe
Isabella had barely settled into her desk when the intercom on her phone buzzed, Jake’s deep voice flowing through the speaker.
"Miss Howells," he said, smooth and commanding. "Step into my office."
Her throat tightened. She set the pen down, smoothed her skirt, and forced her legs to move.
Thankfully, she’d gone through the folder he’d given her and had even tried her best to do what he’d asked her so she just took it with her as she made her way to his office.
With each click of her heels across the polished floor, her heart raced faster. What did he even need from her? Does he remember her now? Was that why he was calling her?
What if he remembered? What was she going to do then? Quit? She exhaled, and took in a deep breath. There was no need thinking too much.
She would go in and wait to hear whatever it was, he wanted to say to her. She thought as she stepped into the office.
The door clicked shut behind her, muffling the rest of the office noise. Jake was standing near the floor-to-ceiling window, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of water. His suit jacket was off now, sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms.
He turned when she entered, his gaze sweeping over her slowly, in a deliberate manner.
Bella’s spine stiffened as she observed that. "You asked for me, sir?" she said, careful to keep her tone steady.
Why was he looking at her that way? Though she couldn’t pinpoint it but she could see it. Something was off.
Jake’s lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. "Relax, Miss Howells. You look like you’re about to stand trial. Settling in nicely?"
She clenched her hands in front of her. "I’m just... still adjusting, sir."
"Good." He set the glass down and crossed the room, each step measured, deliberate. "I like my assistants alert. But not so tense that they forget how to breathe."
Her pulse hammered when he stopped just a little too close, the faint scent of cedar and spice from his cologne filling her senses, reminding her once again about that night, five years ago. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to step back.
Jake reached for the folder in her hand. His fingers brushed hers—light, almost accidental—only that it wasn’t. "Your summary from this morning," he said, flipping it open. "Impressive. Concise. You write with clarity."
Bella blinked, caught off guard. "Thank you," she managed to say after clearing her throat.
He closed the folder and placed it on his desk, but didn’t move away. His eyes held hers with unsettling intensity, making Bella’s heart limp in anxiety. "Clarity is rare," he murmured, his voice dropping lower. "Most people hide behind too many words." His gaze flicked briefly, almost imperceptibly, to her lips before locking on her eyes again. "You, however, seem to prefer honesty. That’s a quality I value."
Bella’s breath caught. She knew what he was doing—pushing her, testing her. Maybe even enjoying the power he had to make her pulse race. But she couldn’t let him see it. Not him. Not the man who had already changed her life once. She couldn’t let him know whatever he was doing was actually getting to her.
But why would it seem as though he was trying to flirt? Was she mistaken? She mused as she cleared her throat.
"I’ll do my best to keep things professional, Mr. Stones," she said firmly, her voice steadier than she felt.
Something flickered in his eyes—amusement, or is it challenge? He leaned back slightly, finally giving her space.
"Professional. Of course." He moved toward his chair, his tone casual but edged with something that curled around her nerves. "But professionalism doesn’t mean coldness, Miss Howells. I expect you to anticipate my needs before I say them. To understand my moods. To keep my schedule flawless. It’s... intimate work, being an assistant. I’m sure you know that."
Bella’s chest tightened. Intimate. The word lingered in the air like smoke. There was no way she was going to remember that night or feel those unwanted feelings. She was supposed to hate him and not let him get to her.
Could she survive working for this devil in human form?
"Miss Howells?" Jake called when Isabella remained quiet after something.
She managed a stiff nod. "I understand," she said, swallowing hard and telling herself she wouldn’t zone out thinking about him again.
It was clear she’d need another job.
"Do you?" Jake asked softly, watching her like a hawk. His voice was silk, but the challenge in it made her skin prickle.
She forced herself to meet his gaze, even though her stomach was twisting. "Yes.... sir."
A slow smile touched his lips, and he finally sank into his chair. "Good. That’s all for now." He waved a hand dismissively. "You may go."
Bella turned too quickly, clutching the handle of the door like a lifeline.
"Miss Howells," Jake’s voice stopped her.
She froze, her back still to him. "Yes, sir?" she answered, wishing he could just finish all he had to say and just let her leave.
She was tired of having him talk to her the way he was doing. She needed air, fresh air. The air in here was suffocating.
For a moment, Jake didn’t say anything , leaving Isabella to wonder why he was silent. Seconds passed by and Isabella, though still having her back to him, could feel his eyes on her, heavy, burning into her spine.
She turned when he still wouldn’t say anything and when their eyes met, he winked at her.
"Breathe," he said and chuckled softly.
Her lips parted, a shiver running through her.
She might as well die of heart attack or high blood pressure if things were to continue this way.
She pushed the door open and escaped, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Behind her, Jake leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk curving his lips. She thought she could hide, thought she could pretend... but he could feel the truth in the air between them.
This wasn’t just professionalism. Not anymore.