Mikayla was softly humming to herself while she sat at her desk. As she added a meeting into Damien's calendar, her thoughts drifted to him often.

It had been a few days since the incident at the club had taken place.

She had done her best not to think about the fact that they had almost kissed, something that was a bit difficult to manage especially whenever she was in Damien's presence. Although, since she had been partly drunk, a part of her wondered at times if she had exaggerated the entire exchange.

The sudden ringing of the black office phone on her desk brought her out of her thoughts.

Picking up the receiver, before she could even say hello Damien's voice gruffly said, "Come to my office now," then hung up.

"Geez, some manners wouldn't kill you," Mikayla muttered as she picked up her notebook and went over to Damien's office.

"Listen Mikayla," his voice relaxed, "I have some urgent business with Pierce Robotics that needs handling in New York and you're coming with me. Don't worry about reserving us a hotel, the robotics company already booked something. However, you'll have to make sure to reschedule the rest of this week's meetings."

"Alright, noted. When do we leave and what do you need me to do?" she asked as she readied her pen to take some quick notes.

"We leave tonight and I need the usual clerical support, you'll be taking the minutes as you always do and will use the information to draft and write a report," Damien said as he looked down at his mobile.

"Tonight?" Mikayla looked up; her eyes wide in surprised.

Without looking up from his phone he asked, "Is that a problem?"

"No sir, I just didn't expect to be travelling so soon," Mikayla said.

Damien made a tsk sound, "Well you know how the business world works, time is money. We have the meeting with Pierce Robotics on Wednesday and a consultation with a software firm on Thursday. If all goes as planned, we'll be back in London by Friday evening. I'll have a car sent for you later tonight."

There was no way she could go home to Northampton and be back at Hannah's place in Packham in time, she only hoped that his driver would not mind the long drive to and from.

————— ▲ —————

Mikayla got out of the chauffeured car that Damien had sent to pick her up and stifled a small yawn as her eyes took in the plane that sat on the tarmac.

It was two in the morning and she was three hours late. Good thing they were using a private jet, otherwise she would have missed the flight. Mikayla carried a handbag with her on board the Falcon 7X jet while her suitcase was packed into the plane by one of the attendants.

It was her first time on a private jet. Mr. Northefielde had never really taken her on personal meetings like these, and if he had, they usually just flew business class on a commercial airline. Her brown eyes slowly scanned the interior of the first compartment, there were about seven large seats evenly spread out, with a bar and two tables as well as a small couch.

She was ushered into the second interior which was almost identical to the first half except it had four large seats, one table and a bigger couch. Sitting on one of the chairs next to the couch was Damien, his jacket thrown over the back of his chair, his tie hanging loosely around his neck as the first two buttons of his shirt were open. He had clearly come straight from the office, his eyes focused on some charts on his laptop.

"We need to talk," Damien said without looking up from the screen.

Sighing softly, Mikayla made her to the couch and plopped down. She knew that he was upset that she had caused their flight to be delayed. She wondered how he wasn't tired as she took in his appearance, he looked as alert as ever. Mikayla laid her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes waiting for him to talk to her.

Damien stopped what he was doing when he heard Mikayla's sigh, he watched the tiredness etched on her face before raking his aquamarine gaze over her body. She wore a dark grey cardigan that was left open, allowing him to see the white cotton jersey that she wore underneath. He could not help but admire the swells of her breasts rising and falling with each breath that she took. She paired her outfit with black leggings and comfortable black slip-on sneakers.

He also noted that her curls were piled haphazardly on top her head and he wanted nothing more than to let her hair down and dive his fingers into her thick curls. Damien bet her ass looked fantastic in those leggings and he silently cursed himself for not looking up at her when she entered.

His eyes lingered on her lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss her. The scene at the club last week kept playing over in his mind. A part of him regretted having been a gentleman that night and not kissing her, but he knew that it had been the right thing to do in the end. When he would kiss her, he wanted her to be fully cognizant of her surroundings, fully focused on him and what his hands and lips would do to her body.

Now was not the time to be thinking of such things though, shaking his mind off such thoughts he suddenly spoke, "Mikayla..." her name coming out with a hint of arousal that he wasn't able to hide in time.

Opening her eyes slowly, Mikayla sat up and looked at him, "Yes Mr. Arnauld?"

He cleared his throat a bit to get his voice back to normal, "First of all, I've asked you repeatedly to call me Damien," he said before continuing, "secondly, why didn't you tell me that you weren't living in London anymore? I had no idea that the driver would have had to go all the way to Northampton for you, it took almost two hours both ways. Due to this oversight, our flight plans were delayed."

"I'm sorry Mr- I mean Damien, but when I lost my job I wasn't able to keep my flat, so I had to move back home with my parents," she said as her hands fiddled with the edge of her cardigan.

Damien felt a slight bit of guilt, silently wondering how much of her life he had unintentionally disrupted.

"How have you been getting to work these last few weeks? I can't have you running late if I suddenly need you to come in earlier," he stated while trying his best not to smile at the way his name sounded on her lips.

He was not really surprised that she pronounced it how the French do which was the correct way to say his name, she did speak French after all. Usually people pronounced it the English way and he always had to correct them. Damien found himself silently wondering how she would sound moaning his name.

Mikayla answered, "Well the bus takes about 30 minutes to get to the train station and from there the train takes about an hour to get to London, it's not so bad. It can get a bit annoying when it rains though but I haven't been late once, I make sure that I get up earlier which is no problem."

Damien placed the laptop on the coffee table in front of them, turning his chair to face her more evenly as he unconsciously stroked his facial hair while staring at Mikayla. He admired her commitment, but taking 90 minutes in commuting time to and from work, not to mention the time it took to walk in between the stations, wasn't exactly ideal, especially if emergencies arose. The sound of the jet's engines coming to life was suddenly heard as it prepared to take off.

"There is a bit of a problem though, Mikayla. As my personal assistant, I need you readily available and I'm afraid living in Northampton would not prove to be very productive while you have this job," Damien said.

Mikayla slightly tensed as she pondered if he was going to fire her, sitting up straighter she said with a slight alarm in her voice, "Please don't fire me Mr. Arnauld. As you can see, the distance so far has not disrupted my ability to work for you. I know that the location where I live now is not ideal but if you give me a little time, I will find something closer to London as soon as possible–"

Damien waved his right hand a bit cutting her off, "There's no need to panic Mikayla, I'm not going to fire you or anything like that. I was merely going to make a suggestion, and please, it's Damien," he stopped for a moment as he chose his words carefully.

He did his best to not stare at her chest as her panicked movements forced her jersey to strain against it, "I own a building in downtown London near Westminster Bridge close to the Houses of Parliament, I have a few flats that have recently become available and you will stay in one of the units there."

Mikayla noted that it was more of a command than an invitation, she bit her bottom lip before replying, "Err Damien, I know for a fact that I cannot dream of being able to afford anything that you own, I can't bear to go broke from another boss," she joked at the end trying to lighten the conversation.

"Broke from another boss?" Damien asked as his left eyebrow shot up.

"Yea, I had foolishly invested most of my savings with Mr. Northefielde's company, so I ended up losing most of my money. Which is another reason why I moved back home," Mikayla said simply.

He silently cursed Northefielde for taking advantage of his employees and even though Damien had a reputation for being a hard ass, he had never stolen from anyone, especially not people who worked for him.

"Well, I didn't ask you to pay me now, did I? Think of it as part of your employment agreement with me, housing allowance. Although if you damage anything you should replace it, deal?" Damien said matter-of-factly.

Mikayla nodded, "That seems fair. Thank you so much Damien." She could not deny that the daily commute was slowly beginning to take a toll on her especially when it rained.

"Think nothing of it, I'm the one who benefits more anyway. If I need something, you're just a few floors away," he winked then laughed.

Mikayla allowed the sound of his laughter to gently wash over her before she fully understood the meaning of his words, causing her to sit up even straighter. "Wait? What? Where? Few floors away?"

"Yes," he said as he pulled his laptop back on his lap, his eyes held a bit of mischief as he looked at her and said simply, "I live on the top floor."