"What size is she?" the young female store clerk asked when I held up a stunning emerald sequin V-neck gown that caught my eye. And as I held it up to take a close look, I imagined it on Eloise and how beautiful it would look on her—how gorgeous she would look wearing it.

I looked the woman up and down, then thought about Eloise when she was lying beneath me and when I had her crammed against the wall. "What size are you?"

She laughed like it was a question I shouldn't be asking her. But I had to ask. I'm not used to doing anything like this, and I don't want to get Eloise's size wrong, especially if I'm spending almost five grand on a dress to bring a smile to her face—something I haven't done since our night in Florida—the night she thought and still thinks I was someone else.

Next weekend is my best friend Rory's wedding. And come that Monday morning, five days before the I do's will be exchanged. Eloise and I are supposed to share a room for six nights. And she doesn't know I will share that room with her. At least, I don't think she does since I haven't gotten a nasty email from her calling me every name in the book.

I figured all this out Friday night after walking into the nightclub to get Eloise out of there before she embarrassed herself, and to my surprise, she was hanging out with Isabelle—Rory's bride-to-be.

And that's when it hit me after seeing Isabelle, Tallulah, Shelby, Amanda, and Carina sitting at the table with her, doing tequila shots. It's when I also learned that Eloise is Isabelle's maid of honor—something my group of friends failed to tell me. It's also when I remembered Tallulah mentioning in Florida that she thought the name Eloise sounded familiar.

Jokes on me—on us.

So, now I know the woman I'll spend nearly a week in a hotel room with in Hawaii is not some random friend of Isabelle's. It's the fucking thorn in my ass, yet gorgeous Eloise. The woman who hates my guts. And the woman I love getting under her skin. Six months I've given this woman hell and tried firing her, and now I'll escort her down the aisle. Who I'll be dancing with, and who I'll be spending every waking fucking minute with for nearly a week.

And because I don't want to upset my friends or ruin Rory and Isabelle's wedding. Mostly since they'll have two belligerent friends who don't get along, forced to hang out for a week, and don't seem to know when to quit pushing each other's buttons, take jabs, or insult one another, and I'm sure we'll be at each other's throats, embarrassing them. And to show my friends I can put our differences to the side, I'll be the one to call a truce for the week—for our friends' sake, that is. I don't want to get ahead of myself, though. Because of how feisty Eloise is, I'm almost sure she won't want to make a truce.

Howbeit, after figuring out my partner is the beautiful and very sexy pain in my ass Eloise, I called the hotel we're all staying at and made them an offer they couldn't refuse to switch our room to the top floor penthouse suite facing the ocean. I figured that would help me earn some points with Eloise and make her stay in the room with me much more accommodating and relaxing; I felt that was the least I could do for her.

The one time I'm willing to play nice with her...

So now, because we have three days of dancing lessons for the wedding party dance, I'm out on fifth avenue, shopping for Eloise, wanting to buy her a nice dress, along with jewelry to match, with hopes she won't shred the dress and throw away the jewelry.

"What size am I?" the store clerk asked, surprised by my question.

"I know it's a strange question, but I'm trying to figure out her size. And you're about her height, yet she's a bit smaller framed than you. So I'm curious as to what her size would be. I'd call and ask her, but I want this to be a surprise." One massive jaw-dropper that I know will leave her flabbergasted.

"I'm a four, so if she's a tad smaller than me, I would guess she's a size two."

Perfect.

"I'll take this dress in a size two, and since I know nothing about purses, I'd like to ask if you could help me pick out whatever clutch purse you think would look nice with the dress. And as you can see, money is no object."

Especially if I'm trying to score some brownie points with Eloise.

She laughed as she walked me toward the purses. "I already gathered that. But I can definitely match you with the correct purse."

Next, stop? The Harry Winston jewelry store.

Yep, I'm going all out. I have to in order to get Eloise to like me for at least six long days. Not that I care if she despises me or not, but I'm not doing this for us; I'm doing this out of respect for my friends.

I think...

But, like Eloise wondered, do I have a few loose screws? I have to answer yes. And it's because I do. I called her mine in front of my best friends. I called her mine at the fucking nightclub when I carried her out, and I've told her she was mine multiple times.

And that's a problem.

I don't claim any woman as mine.

So, yes, I'm admitting I have some fucking loose screws that need tightening because this is not me. Especially when I'm buying a woman a fancy elegant dress, along with jewelry that many women would die to wear because that's something I've never done.

The last woman I bought jewelry for was in high school—seventeen years ago.

"Where to next, sir?" my driver for the next few days asked.

"The hotel, please. I want to drop these off and get them locked up. I also need to pick up paperwork before I head to the last meeting of the day."

I reached into the Harry Winston jewelry bag, removed the box with the necklace, earrings, and bracelet, opened it, and stared at what I had just spent over a fucking million dollars on a woman who hates me with a passion. It has me wondering what the fuck am I doing?

The trio is a beautiful, stunning ensemble that'll definitely cause Eloise's gorgeous eyes to pop out. Eyes, I haven't been able to quit thinking of. And eyes I could gaze into for hours.

"Good afternoon, mister Harrison. What can we do for you?" the hotel clerk behind the counter asked, smiling as he looked at the contents I placed on the counter.

"I need these locked into the secure storage, please."

"Follow me," he said, walking around the counter and having me follow him to a secured room filled with deposit boxes, storage lockers, and more. "The ones available are lit up. Once you pick the one you wish to have, enter your room number, and then it will ask that you enter a six-digit code, and then it will ask that you re-enter that six-digit code to ensure it matches."

The clerk exited the room, and before I chose the security locker I wanted, I took another look at the dress and jewelry, shaking my head and muttering, "My friends are going to flip the fuck out. So much so, they'll think this is my way of proposing to my current favorite hemorrhoid."

After securing the items, I headed to my room and grabbed what I needed, but before I returned to my ride waiting for me, I turned on my laptop to check the camera in Eloise's office. I was inquisitive about seeing her reaction to the pretzels and if she did as I asked—by putting on her jacket or changing her top. And like the Eloise I know, she didn't.

Of course, Mason delivered her my gift... a hardworking employee who's worked for me for the last four years and has been trying hard to ask Eloise out for months. And it had me seeing red that he was in the room with her alone, while her tits were practically showing through her outfit. And now my stomach is twisting in knots after hearing Elosie accept to go out on a date with him—tomorrow.

She purposely accepted the date, knowing I was nowhere near them.

Fuck... and there's nothing I can do to stop the two from going out with me in New York.

But there is someone I know that would love to do some spying for me. And I know he'd have a blast doing it, too, for the fact that what I'm doing and asking of him is so unlike me. I hate having someone else do my dirty work, but I warned her I don't play nice. And this is one of those times I need to play dirty.

Especially now.

So, as I headed down to my ride, I texted Aaron with hopes he'll immediately respond.

Me: Hey, there's a favor I'd like to ask for you to do for me.

Thank God he didn't make me wait for a response.

Aaron: A favor? You're actually trusting me to do a favor for you? What kind of favor is it?

I knew he'd be surprised. I hadn't had him do a favor for me since the last time he screwed up doing one for me back when we were in high school.

Me: Actually, I don't trust you. But you're the only one I know who'll do this for me. So. Please. Don't fucking screw it up this time, or your ass is grass.

Aaron: What would you like me to do?

Me: I need you to do some spying for me. Watch. Follow. And do whatever you can to stop something further from happening.

Aaron: Spy? On who? Are you talking about that Eloise chick you fucked in Florida? The one who you told all of us that she's yours?

Me: Yes, her. She's going on a date with Mason tomorrow night. So I want you to follow them. Watch everything they do. Listen to everything they say. And follow them wherever they go. And if you see him trying to put a move on her, I need you to step in and do whatever you can to stop it from going further. Please.

Aaron: I can't stop laughing at what you're asking me to do. You want me to follow your girl around? That's hilarious! Callum Harrison, who refuses to settle down, wants me to follow his assistant around.

Laugh it up, asshole.

Me: Shut up, fucker. I'm being serious right now. Yes, I know this is unheard of with me. So don't ask any more questions because I don't even know how to fucking answer them. All I know is that because I'm in New York and knowing there isn't anything I can do about it, I'm on the verge of losing it after hearing she'll be going out with Mason.

Aaron: Give me all the details.

Me: So, you'll do it?

Aaron: Of course I will! This will be fun! I'll finally see who's making my best friend's head batty. Because the Callum, I know, wouldn't be having me do this. And he sure wouldn't be going nuts over a woman he isn't exclusive with. Hell, the Callum I know doesn't even know the meaning of a relationship or what being a one-woman man is. He likes women too much to settle down.

Me: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I just can't help it. And it's pissing me off. I know this isn't me; there's just something about Eloise that I can't keep my mind from thinking about her.

Aaron: Where am I going? What time?

Me: I don't know. You'll probably have to wait outside the building and watch for her to leave. I'm sure she'll be going home first. So I'll get a hold of Emma asking for her home address, and once I get that, I'll send it to you. Just promise me you won't screw up this time!

Aaron: Hey! That was seventeen years ago, and even though I majorly screwed up, it still worked out in your favor. But, yes, I promise. She won't even know she's being followed.

Me: And whatever you do. DO NOT SAY ANYTHING TO THE GUYS! ESPECIALLY RORY. He'll tell Isabelle, and she'll tell Eloise. (I'll tell you about that one when I return from New York—long story.)

Having Aaron do this tells and shows I've lost it. And if Eloise finds out I sent my friend to spy on her and Mason, I can only imagine how that'll go.

She'll probably want to Lorena Bobbitt me. Wait. Scratch that. Not probably want to, but she will—in a fucking heartbeat. I saw what Eloise did to the voodoo doll and the crazy look in her eyes while doing it.

And that's a scary fucking thought.

***

I know what Marissa Benson is doing, and it isn't fucking working for me. Not anymore. Four months ago or so, it would have. But ever since a confident woman entered my life—one-night stands are no longer a thing. Hell, I can't even look at a woman and imagine what they're like in bed, if they're wild, a thrill-seeker, dull, or a romantic. Something I enjoyed trying to figure out whenever a beautiful woman caught my eye.

And I don't know if I should feel mortified or good about it?

I don't want to be tied down by any woman, yet my mind and the organ behind my chest tell me differently, believing Eloise is the woman I want tying me down.

And that I'm still trying to process. Because I still don't understand what's going on in my head. Or why I insist on thinking and saying Eloise is mine.

Marissa is sitting across from me at the conference table, undressing me with her eyes and playing with her necklace while Mack explains the gala event we've been working on for the past six months—something I feel Eloise should be here with me. This project was her baby, one of the events I had asked her to work on since the day she started—something I also didn't think she could handle.

But Eloise proved otherwise. And Mack has said nothing but good things about her work. And whenever he mentioned her name while speaking, my eyes shot over his way. I didn't know I was doing it until he repeated her name.

"Will Eloise McKnight be joining us for the gala event?" Mack asked.

"Yes," I quickly replied, my eyes returning to Marissa. "She'll be there." I don't know why I said she would when I never brought it up to her. And to be honest, my response to Mack's question just came out without a thought.

"Excellent. I can't wait to meet her; she's been absolutely wonderful to deal with."

Well, good for fucking you. I'm glad to hear she's been nice to work with. Try being in my shoes. You'll think differently.

The only difference between Mack and me is I enjoy bickering with her, whereas I know Mack wouldn't put up with it.

I smiled, agreeing, "She's a hard worker." But, if I knew any better, it seems to me he only wants to meet her to ask her out or ask her to leave my office and come onto his team.

Not happening, buddy. You'll be learning very soon learn—she's mine. And she isn't going anywhere. So as much as I say I want to fire her, I can't, and I won't. I've only threatened her with it to piss her off and to make her work harder. I've never told her or anyone this, but the woman is determined and hardworking. And I noticed when she started working for me that she's a go-getter. A fast learner. And a woman, anyone, could be very proud of—I am.

But I still won't tell Eloise that. I want her to be the best. And she's shown me time and time again she will be. Because the tougher I am on her, the better she gets.

The more Mack lit up talking about Eloise, the antsier I was becoming. I also couldn't stop fidgeting with my watch—waiting for Mack to say our meeting was finished.

Mack slapped his hands together, then stood. "Well, I think this is it. We covered everything I wanted to review and answered all my questions. So," he said, extending his hand to me. "It was nice seeing you again, Callum." Then Mack's hand went to Marissa's, shaking it. "It was nice seeing you again, as well. You two have a good night."

Thank fucking God.

I looked at the time, then stood quickly. I wanted to leave the building before Marissa came on to me. "It was a pleasure seeing you both again. But if you'll excuse me, I've gotta run." And I did.

Just as the elevator doors started closing, Marissa stuck her arm between them, stopping them from shutting.
Are you serious right now? I pressed the open button to ensure the elevator didn't crush her arm, then snapped as the doors opened. "You could have waited until the next available one."

Stepping inside, she smiled, saying, "I needed to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Do you remember when you were here last and said you'd love to take me out? So I thought, since Mack doesn't need us to return tomorrow, I was wondering if you'd like to go somewhere to have some drinks and talk?"

Of course, she'd remember. I don't. But because I know it's something, I would have told her I lied when I said, "Yeah, I remember."

"Is that still on?"

Nope.

"Sorry, Marissa. But I'm no longer a bachelor. And it wouldn't be right if I went to a bar with you to have some drinks while she's in Chicago." And on a date with Mason. Well. In a couple of hours, she will be. I keep forgetting I'm an hour ahead of her.

"It would just be for drinks, catch-up, and talk about the gala. I'm curious. What made you choose epilepsy instead of a specific cancer this time?"

I can't take the credit for this one.

"That was Eloise's doing. In one of her emails, she told me that epilepsy was an awareness that meant a lot to her. That she wanted this year's gala to raise awareness of the incurable disease, wishing to make more people aware of it and hoping to raise lots of money so they could find a cure."

She stepped closer to me, and I stepped one foot back, and her looking to put the moves on me made me sweat. "It's definitely an awareness that more people need to be informed about."

"It is," I said as we reached our floor.

These doors better hurry and open. I'm starting to feel a bit claustrophobic.

Marissa lifted a brow. "Drinks?"

Absolutely not...

Oh, my... I've really lost it. A beautiful woman is coming on to me, and I'm backing out? Including panicking and sweating?

"Sorry. Not this time. I like my girl too much to ruin a good thing over something I know would be wrong of me to accept."

She stepped closer and clutched my jacket before pulling me to her. I'm in trouble... then, in my ear, she said, "Well, if you change your mind. You've got my number."

Get me out of here... now...

***

From: Callum
To: Eloise
Subject: Gala

Eloise,

I hope this email serves you well and will bring you to smile hearing you're doing a fantastic job. Mack had nothing but good things to say about you and is more than satisfied with your hard work. He asked if you'd be at the gala, and I want you to know I told him you would be, since you deserve recognition for all the hard work you put into putting this together.

Congratulations on a job well done. I'll see you soon.

Sincerely,
Callum

P.S. I'm not such a heartless prick after all, am I?

Hopefully, this earned me some points because this is my nicest email to Eloise yet. And since we're getting closer to Rory and Isabelle's wedding. I know that means I need to continue working harder at not upsetting her and getting it so that our situation will be easier to work through once she sees me and figures out that I am her boss.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! 🤞🤞