Holidays with the Billionaire

Chapter 10

Kelton

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A fter the meeting is over, I tell Adlee she’s free to do what she wants until dinner tonight. Once everyone is out of the room, I ask Jerrold to stay back.

“What is it, Kelt? Muriel wants to go have a drink in the lodge.”

I really don’t like the way this fucker talks to me, and after what he said to Adlee earlier, it’s time he knows his place.

“First off, this is a working trip, so Muriel can wait. Second, Adlee isn’t here for you, she’s here to help me out. Whatever work you have for her can wait until we get back to the office. And speaking of that, once Lea is done with her recuperation, I’m moving her to Accounting to help you and I’m keeping Miss Phillips.”

Jerrold narrows brown eyes at me. “You can’t be serious. I don’t want that airheaded—”

“Enough. I didn’t ask, Jerrold.”

“What, you got the hots for Adlee or something?” he snaps as I turn to grab my briefcase.

I slowly rein in my anger at his fucking audacity. “Is that the first place your mind goes? Because even if I did or did not—which, for the record, our relationship is purely professional—it wouldn’t be any of your business. Perhaps you should cash in your stocks and retire if you can’t survive without a secretary to bark orders at all day. Because at the end of the day, I’m still the fucking CEO of Fox Investments and it would do you well to remember that.”

His mouth opens and closes, but it seems he thinks better of trying to come back at me.

“Enjoy the rest of your day.” I grab my briefcase and exit the conference room.

I offer tight smiles to passersby as I head for the elevators.

Adlee is fucking mine and he can kiss my ass if he thinks he’s getting her back. I never talk to him—or anyone, really—like that, but something about Adlee is bringing out my defensive side. My possessive side.

My heart almost leapt into my throat when she fell earlier. I wanted to storm to the kitchen and demand to know why they had my assistant doing their job. Lucky for them, Adlee explained. I’ll have to get with Greg, our general manager, or Bernice later to find out why the kitchen was so short-staffed my secretary felt obligated to help.

But maybe that’s her personality. She was, after all, doing Lea’s work for her without getting any of the credit or the pay. Either she’s a saint or a total pushover. I haven’t determined which. Though, she held her own with Laskin earlier. I’d never heard a peep about him from her for the couple of years she’s been working for him. Guess she had enough. I don’t blame her. I’ve had enough of that old coot, too.

Upstairs in my room, I turn the television on and find a hockey game. I don’t actually watch them in hotels, I just like the background noise. The sounds of skates scraping the ice. The echo of the arena. The shouts from the players to one another. The commentator’s narration making things more dramatic than they really are. It was my life for ten years and I think hockey will always be engrained in me. I’ll never not love it or watch it.

I change out of my clothes and into my ski gear. Which reminds me. I pick up my phone and text Adlee.

Me: We’re meeting at the ski lift in thirty minutes.

She immediately responds.

Adlee: Have fun!

I furrow my brow. She thinks she’s getting out of this?

Me: I expect you there.

Adlee: Sir, you said I was free until dinnertime.

Did I say that?

Me: I meant no work meetings.

Adlee: I can’t ski. Trust me, I’ll just slow you down.

Me: I doubt that.

Adlee: You might end up with two broken-leg secretaries.

I bite back a smile. Is she really trying to avoid me?

I pocket the phone and leave my suite to head down the hall to her room. I consider walking in using the app to open the door, but I don’t need to get myself into trick bag of trouble. Instead, I knock.

She opens the door wearing a pair of lacy short-shorts and a tank top. It’s freaking December...

Her calves are shapely and her thighs are thick. Her tank top hugs her curves, a small waist with hips that form a perfect hourglass. Her tits are on the small side, just the way I like them. Her cinnamon hair is piled on top of her head, and she holds a piece of pizza.

“You will go skiing with us today,” I say. I had something better to say planned, but fuck if I remember what it was after seeing so much of her flesh on display.

“I wasn’t joking about the broken leg, Mr. Fox,” she says, not opening the door wider to let me in. “I’m clumsy and not athletic at all. Surely you didn’t miss my faux pas with the tray earlier?” She bites into the pizza while maintaining eye contact.

“You sound overly dramatic. Get dressed and we’ll walk down there together,” I suggest, remembering her earlier comment about walking to the meeting together. “It was in your contract, remember that.”

I can tell she wants to slam the door in my face, so I turn on my heel, leaving no room for argument. She will do as I say, and she will fucking like it.

A dlee definitely does not want to be here, and I can tell she’s never skied before. First of all, she had no ski clothes and I had to get her some from the onsite shop. Then I had to order all the equipment from the rental place and then have them fitted on her.

She looks down at her skis, walking awkwardly. “This is ridiculous. We look like clowns.”

I snort. “Speak for yourself.”

I don’t look back at her as we head to the ski lift. My brother and his wife are with us, along with about six other shareholders and their families. I know them all, but I get the feeling I’ll be babysitting Adlee all day. I could pretend to be annoyed by that fact but I’m not.

When we’re at the front of the line to get on the lift, I look down at Adlee. She looks very nervous, even though I can’t see her pretty eyes behind the mirrored goggles. I take pity on her.

“It’s easy. The lift will scoop us up and once we reach the top, you hop off and start gliding.”

“Easy for you,” she replies. “I’ve never done this before.”

“So you’ve said. But not even like once? As a kid?” I ask, curious.

“I grew up in Texas. We didn’t take a lot of trips,” she replies vaguely.

Interesting.

The lift approaches and she freezes. So I grab her gloved hand and hold it while we board the lift.

“Whoa!” Adlee says as we plunk our asses onto the seat. It swings and jerks before steadying out. She lets go of my hand to grip my arm. I let her, but I’m not sure how I feel about it.

The ride up is beautiful with snow covering everything and a view of the entire town, evergreen trees surrounding each side of every slope. I breathe in the crisp mountain air and wish I could spend all my time up here.

“Pretty view,” Adlee says with her hand still squeezing my arm in a death grip.

“It is,” I agree.

We reach the top and I grasp her hand and help her off.

She lands on her skis, her arms pin-wheeling out at her sides slightly before she steadies herself with her ski poles. “Whoa.”

“See? You got this,” I tell her encouragingly. It’s probably best if I don’t continue to be an ass since I basically forced her up here.

She walks awkwardly on her skis, using the poles for support. Once we reach the top, I ask, “Are you ready?”

My brother and his wife go flying down the slope, along with the rest of our group.

“I guess,” she says.

“I’ll go first. Just do what I do. Lean your body to the left or right to go around people and objects. You’ll get the hang of it.”

She seems unsure, and I want to give her a push, but I don’t think that would help. I push off with my poles and then quickly flip my skis to turn around so I’m skiing backward. I watch as she pushes off with hers and starts to glide. She’s wobbly like a baby deer and keeps her skis straight.

“Have you ever skated before?” I ask.

She nods, almost too scared to speak.

“Okay, move your hips and legs from side to side as you glide down. Watch the other skiers, how they do it.”

She nods again and begins to move as I instructed. I continue to ski backward and watch her, and she seems to be getting the hang of it.

Maybe she’ll enjoy this after all.