Famously Mine: A Contemporary Romance Box Set Read online

  When she invited me back to my own building, well. That sealed the deal. I’ve never fucked a neighbor before. Talk about girl-next-door.

  She did look cute all riled up this morning, her cheeks pink and hair frizzy from sleeping. I know she gave me her name at some point, but I honestly can’t remember it right now. I’m nursing a mild hangover and have a long day ahead of me. My father’s in town, which sure isn’t going to help my headache.

  Anyway.

  It’s a relatively short ride to the office, depending on traffic. Today is mild by New York standards, and we make it in thirty minutes. Still, I don’t like being too early, and I have nine minutes to spare, so I head into the Starbucks on the main floor for a much-needed black coffee. I inhale the life-saving aroma and take a grateful, scalding sip. I just need to get through the next eight hours, and then it’s the weekend. Two whole days I don’t plan to remember by Monday.

  It’s not that I don’t like my job. I love my job. But when my busy-body, self-righteous father insists on spending a week each month cramping my style and bossing me around, it taints the experience a little. I’ve been dealing with his bullshit all week, which is another reason why I ended up at Mace last night. One more day, and I won’t have to see him until the end of next month.

  I don’t know why my father even made me head of the company if he was still planning to be around all the goddamn time. I guess retiring and moving to the Hamptons didn’t give him enough control in his life. So he has to control me by extension. Not that he hasn’t always tried to control me. When you grow up with a famous father and socialite backstabbing mother, you get used to being a pawn pretty quick. Well, in a year that will all change. I will be the sole owner of Banks Industries and will be very, very happy. And probably drunk. Every day.

  Having stalled long enough, I make my way to the elevator. Most people steer clear when they see me, knowing I like to ride the elevator alone, so I’m more than a little annoyed when someone pushes the button right as the doors are about to close. “Catch the next one,” I bark, hoping whoever it is works for me so I can fire them immediately.

  The doors slide open, and my heart sinks. “Oh, shit.”

  “Oh shit, indeed,” she says. It’s the fucking girl from last night. She’s wearing a modest pantsuit and has tamed her unruly hair, but her olive-toned face has gone a few shades lighter upon seeing me.

  “This is where your new job is?” She mentioned she was into architecture, but honestly I didn’t listen to much of what she said last night. I was too busy staring at her amazing breasts. It’s all I can do not to drop my gaze to them now, cradled tantalizingly in a sea-foam green blouse.

  She nods and steps into the elevator. “Do you work for Banks Industries too?” she asks.

  I scoff. She literally has zero idea who I am. Did she even do research when she applied for this job? Who hired her? I need to have a word with them immediately. “I am Banks Industries,” I tell her, not even trying to keep the disapproval from my voice. Twelve floors to go.

  She gasps and her eyes go wide. “You are Max Banks! I thought you were much older … No offense.” Nine floors.

  “You’re thinking of my father, Maximilian Banks Senior.” Seven floors. God, I don’t remember the elevator taking so long. What is taking so long? “He’s still around sometimes, but I’m the boss now.”

  “So are you … I mean, are you … my boss?”

  I inhale sharply, suddenly remembering a tidbit from last week’s meeting. “Given that Maryanne is going on maternity leave starting next Friday,” Julia said, “we’ve put out a call for a new PA for you, Mr. Banks. Would you like to meet the candidates?”

  “Just pick the most qualified one,” I replied, itching for the fucking meeting to be over so I could go back to the peace and quiet of my office.

  Before I can answer her, we finally arrive at the thirteenth floor and the elevator doors slide open. I’m out like a shot, making a beeline for Julia’s office.

  “Julia,” I below as I enter her office without knocking, “we need to talk.”

  “Mr. Kaplan, I will need to call you right back, all right? Buh-bye.” Julia, the office manager who has been around since my father hired her in the nineties, hangs up the phone and fixes me with a tired stare. “What’s the problem?”

  “The new PA you hired didn’t even know who I was. Didn’t I say to hire the most qualified individual for the position?”

  “She is qualified,” Julia retorts, pulling a file from her impeccably organized desk drawers. She hands me the girl’s resume. “She has a bachelor’s degree in Architecture from the Rhode Island School of Design and has been interning for the past two years with Torrado Architects. She’s smart, passionate and had great references from professional architects.”

  Consuella Diaz. Ella. Of course. I hand the resume back to Julia with a sigh. “She was under the impression she would be working for Max Banks Senior.”

  “Your father interviewed her, so that might be why.”

  I nearly choke on my coffee. “He what?”

  Julia looks like she is trying not to roll her eyes. “You didn’t want to be a part of the interview process, so your father stepped in. We discussed it in the meeting last week.”

  Damn it. I really need to start paying attention in those meetings.

  “Is there a problem with her, Mr. Banks?” Julia asks.

  I grit my teeth and let out a long, deep breath. “No. Thank you, Julia.” I head towards my office, wanting to bash my head against the nearest wall. This is not going to help my position with my father. In fact, I’m fairly certain if he finds out I’ve slept with my PA, I will become his PA, and that will be that. This isn’t my fault, of course—how could I have known she was the PA Julia hired? But father doesn’t care about semantics.

  Ella is setting up at the reception desk outside my office when I round the corner. She straightens when she sees me, but fixes me with a withering look that does not improve my mood. “See me in my office,” I tell her before heading in there myself.

  She follows a few minutes later, leaving the door wide open behind her. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Close the door,” I snap.

  “I would feel more comfortable if it’s left open, Mr. Banks,” she retorts coolly. She sits across the desk from me, pen and notepad in hand. “What can I do for you?” she asks.

  I want to punch a wall. Instead I put my feet up on the desk and lean back in my seat. She is a splash of color in my minimalist office, with her green shirt and soft brown eyes. I clear my throat. “You can close the door.” My voice is firm and contains a note of warning, and it has the desired effect on her. She slowly stands and walks to the door. I can see the tension in her shoulders as she shuts it and turns back to face me. “Thank you. Have a seat.” She does. “So. We find ourselves in a bit of a bind, here, Miss Diaz.”

  “Call me Ella,” she says. “Do I still have a job, or should I not bother unpacking?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Well, considering my father hired you, I don’t think it will look great if I fire you on your first day.”

  She looks slightly relieved by that. “Why did your father hire me if I’m working for you?” she asks. “Couldn’t be bothered?”

  “I was busy,” I shoot back, annoyed by her audacity. “I’m the CEO. I don’t have time to interview PAs. I’m sure Julia filled you in on the fast-paced nature of my office here.”

  “She did,” Ella replies, nodding. “I can handle it.”

  “Good,” I say, “because we have a meeting in ten minutes. I think first, though, you and I need to establish some rules.”

  She frowns. “Rules?”

  I put my feet down and lean forward in my seat. “Obviously we can’t tell anyone anything about last night.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Obviously. Anything else?”

  I glare at her. “You have to be professional. I’m your boss. You can’t talk to me like that, especially not in
front of other people.”

  “I’ll be professional if you are,” she snaps back. Her eyes are bright and a small smile is lurking in the corner of her mouth. For a moment I can’t tell if she’s flirting or just being insolent.

  I laugh and stand up, grabbing my coffee cup. “I can do whatever I want, Princesa,” I tell her. I nod in the direction of the door. “Grab the door for me, will ya?”

  She remains in her seat, staring up at me. When she speaks, her voice is syrupy sweet. “If you keep treating me like that, I’ll tell your father we slept together.” She stands and opens the door for me, gesturing exaggeratedly. “After you, el jefe.”

  For some reason I’m mildly turned on, despite how infuriating she’s being. I breeze past her out the door and lead the way to the meeting room, ignoring the warm feeling spreading in my ears and nether regions. I’m the boss. At the end of the day, she has to do what I say. She can make her little threats, but I know she needs this job badly. She won’t give it up out of sheer pettiness.

  Father is waiting in the boardroom along with Julia and the rest of the team. I take my place at the head of the table. The only empty seat for Ella is at the opposite end of the table, which she takes without comment. “This is Ella,” I tell everyone, nodding towards her. “My new PA.”

  There’s a murmur of acknowledgement, but I know no one gives a shit about that. Ella has her laptop with her and is poised to take notes.

  I begin the meeting, continuing our discussion about a newly acquired contract to build a celebrity home on the Upper East Side. It’s such a big case that we don’t even know who the celebrity is yet, which means it’s someone with a lot of clout. A chance for me to really make my mark with the company and in the city. We’re in the middle of reviewing one of my architects’ pitches when Ella speaks up. “What about accessibility?”

  Twelve pairs of eyes swivel towards her. “What?” I ask, dumbfounded. I’m beginning to regret my decision not to fire her right away. It may piss off my father, but at this rate she could end up making me look worse if she stays.

  She stands and leans across the table, giving me a fantastic view down her shirt, and points to the sketch of the entryway to the house. “You only have stairs here. What if the homeowner has accessibility needs? Or what if a family member or visitor does? They have no way of getting up these stairs.”

  All eyes turn back to me. I take a deep breath, trying to get a handle on the sheer irritation I feel. “The homeowner is perfectly mobile, Ella, and is also a recluse, so she won’t be having visitors. Please continue to take notes and leave the details to the professionals.”

  There’s a stunned silence. Ella looks like she wants to strangle me. Well, that feeling is mutual.

  “Let’s move on,” Father chimes in, tossing aside his pitch package. “I’m not feeling this one, anyway.”

  I turn towards him, incredulous. “Blake is my best architect. This design is excellent. What could possibly be the problem?”

  “The girl may have a point,” Father says, nodding towards Ella. “Our client is getting older. She may indeed end up with mobility concerns. We should at least have a solution in mind, knowing a ramp will take up more space and disturb the landscaping plan.”

  At this point I’m so angry I can barely hear over the blood rushing in my ears. “I think we should adjourn this meeting for now.” I push back my chair and stand. “I’ve got a headache. Julia, let’s schedule a pick up for tomorrow.”

  “I can do that, Julia,” Ella says, making a note on her laptop. I leave the room before I can throw my chair at her.

  Christ. I need a drink.

  3

  Max

  She finds me in my office stirring a shot of whiskey into my coffee, a practice I’ve come to rely on to get through the days that my father is in town. I quickly shove the flask back into my desk drawer. If she noticed, she doesn’t say so. Leaving the door open, she comes to stand opposite me, her notebook folded across her chest. After a few moments of her silent staring, I snap. “What?”

  “Did you get a kick out of humiliating me on my first day?” she asks icily.

  I sit down heavily in my office chair and sigh. “You embarrassed yourself. PAs don’t speak up in meetings. They take notes. They get me coffee.”

  “Your father seemed to appreciate my comments,” she points out. “He even agreed with me.”

  “I don’t think it was your comments he was appreciating,” I mutter.

  A look of outrage crosses her face. “And just what do you mean by that?”

  I’m starting to understand why she’s covering her chest with her notebook. I raise one eyebrow, hoping she’ll catch my drift. “Relax,” I say. “My father was probably just trying to pacify the situation. I’m sure he’s gonna kick my ass for not keeping my PA under control.”

  “I’m a human being,” she snaps, “not a puppy. You can’t control me.”

  I take a big gulp of my spiked coffee, silently asking some higher power to grant me the strength to get through this day. “Ella. You’re on thin ice here. Understand? I know we had an awkward start, but I want you to know I don’t shit where I eat. Us hooking up was a big mistake and it won’t happen again. If you can’t accept that and let go of whatever jealous obsession thing you have with me, this isn’t going to work.”

  “You think I’m obsessed with you?” Her voice is rising to an uncomfortable volume. I get up with the aim of closing the door, but she blocks my way. “That’s rich. I couldn’t even remember what your name was this morning. I didn’t even know who you were. You arrogant jerk. How dare you? You can’t treat me like shit because you saw me naked last night. Guess what? I saw you naked too, Max, and I wouldn’t be getting too big for my britches, if I were you.”

  “Get out of my way,” I growl, taking a step towards her. She doesn’t move. I have to admit, her stubbornness, though infuriating, is a definite turn-on. “Talk about double standards. You’re treating me like shit, too! The difference you seem to forget, though, is that I am your boss. So grow up and stick your self-righteous attitude right up your—”

  “Max!”

  I freeze. In fact, we both do. Ella’s eyes go wide as she looks over my shoulder. I shut my eyes for a moment and count to three. Then, “Father!” I say conversationally as I turn to face him. “We were just talking about you.”

  My father literally looks like he smells a rat, with narrowed eyes and pinched mouth. “I hope for your sake that that isn’t true, given the contents of the conversation I just heard.” He looks from me to Ella and back again. “My office. Now.” He turns to go, then stops and glances back at Ella. “Oh, Miss Diaz? Thank you for your feedback this morning, however it won’t be needed at future meetings, at least while you’re still my son’s PA. I hope you understand.” With that, he’s gone.

  I hope my face looks as smug as I feel as I turn back to Ella. She is looking up at the ceiling in either prayer or exasperation. I can’t tell which. When she looks back at me, it’s with a smile. “You have a meeting, Mr. Banks. Would you like some more coffee?”

  I barely catch the grin that’s about to spread across my face. “Yes, I would. Thank you, Miss Diaz.” I turn to go, but her voice stops me.

  “And would you like another shot of whiskey in your coffee, sir?”

  I grit my teeth. “Most definitely, Miss Diaz.”

  My father still insists on keeping an office in the building, despite his infrequent use of it. This is especially annoying given that said office is easily the best one. It’s the corner room on the top floor, with floor-to-ceiling windows boasting jaw-dropping views of the entire city. Someday, it will be mine.

  He doesn’t look up from his work as I enter the office, close the door, and take a seat in the chair opposite him, or even when he first speaks. “Why did you sleep with that girl, Max?”

  I don’t even have to pretend to be offended. How could he just assume that? Nevermind that it’s true, that’s not the point. “W
hat makes you think I did, Father?”

  He finally looks up at me, and he looks about as exasperated as I feel. “Please don’t insult my intelligence. I heard your little conversation back there. I’m quite sure the whole office did. I can’t even begin to imagine how you managed to screw this up before she started her first day of work. Now we will have to either redistribute her or fire her outright.” He shakes his head and looks back to his work. “I’ll have to speak with HR. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

  My ears are burning, but I’m not about to let him win that easily. If anyone is going to fire Ella, it will be me, damnit. I scramble for something, anything, that will serve as a satisfactory explanation for my father.

  He isn’t done. “Or,” he says lazily, “we can fire you, and keep her. In fact, I’m more inclined to go that route. She seems like a good worker with a strong head on her shoulders. I’m not worried she is going to come to work hungover each morning and have meaningless sex with her subordinates and god knows who else.”

  “She doesn’t have any subordinates,” I grumble.

  “Yet.”

  I clench my fists and make a deep breath. “You’re not going to fire me, Father. That’s ridiculous. I run the company, if you’ll remember. And when I turn thirty, I’ll own it, too.”

  My father remains still for a moment, and then he reaches into a desk drawer, removing a heavy-looking manila envelope. He tosses it on the desk in front of me.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “The conditions of your inheritance,” he says quietly. “I gave you a copy some time ago, but I think if you actually read it, all of it, you’ll find there’s a lot more at stake here than the company.”