The Proposal

ANNA

I looked up at him, acutely aware of our still intertwined hands.

He moved in close once again, and I fought the urge to place my free hand on his chest. There was an intensity in his gaze, one that set my entire body on fire.

“You have that lunch scheduled,” I said quietly.

The spell seemed to be broken.

He shook his head angrily and stepped back. “Can you just do what I ask, Annalise?”

I recoiled, and he winced.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s fine,” I said, awkwardly grabbing my purse. “Let’s go.”

I marched toward the parking garage ahead of him, trying to gather my thoughts. A gentle hand on my lower spine made me turn to look up at him.

“My car’s over here.”

I nodded, ignoring the heat from his touch, and stepped just out of reach. It wasn’t that I didn’t necessarily like his physical attention—if I could even call it that.

But every time his skin touched mine, my thoughts became a jumbled mess.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment?” he asked as the car slid smoothly into traffic.

“No,” I said, staring out the window.

The tension between us was palpable.

“Then why aren’t you talking to me?”

“What do you want to talk about, Mr. Powell?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Unless you want to tell me why you’re treating me the way that you are today, I’m not sure we have anything to discuss,” I told him after a moment.

He arched a brow over his aviators. “Oh? And how am I treating you?”

“Seriously?” I scoffed. “You’ve made my entire morning hell. Now, you’re what? Taking me off company property to scold me?”

He was quiet.

“If you’re trying to get me to resign, just say that, Gavin,” I finally snapped.

“I’m not!” he all but shouted.

“Then what the fuck?” I yelled back, then threw my hand over my mouth. “I didn’t mean that. I’m so sorry, Mr. Powell.”

I felt like I was about to start hyperventilating. Gavin’s shock quickly faded to a look of mild amusement.

“All right,” he chuckled. “Maybe I’ve been a little bit…tense today.”

I chewed on my lip as we made our way through halting traffic, trying to talk myself out of a panic attack.

“Annalise?” When I finally turned to face him, his features softened. “You’re doing a great job. You always have.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

We spent the rest of the drive in silence, but the tension seemed to have somewhat dissipated.

It wasn’t until we were pulling into a strange parking garage that I realized I had absolutely no idea of our destination.

“Gavin? Where are we?”

He slipped into a space among several cars I recognized as ones he owned.

“My place,” he answered simply.

Warning sirens blared in my head.

~Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.~

I should not be here. There was no reasonable explanation for my boss to bring me to his home, was there?

Everyone always assumed we slept together. Was this the moment he crudely proposed making our relationship less professional?

~Would that be so terrible?~ I swallowed.

Sleeping with Gavin would be crossing a line that I wouldn’t be able to jump back over. I—quite literally—could not afford to lose my job.

Just as I resolved to talk my way out of going inside, Gavin pulled open my door and held out a hand.

I stared at it, chewing my lip, while a million scenarios played out in my head. Eventually, curiosity won out.

He seemed pleased when I let him help me from the car, only adding to my unease.

“This way.” He nodded to a small elevator, and I followed. As soon as we entered, I realized it was a private lift.

~Of course, he owns the penthouse.~ I mentally facepalmed.

He was one of the richest men in the city, and this was how the elite lived.

When the elevator finally dinged and the doors opened, my jaw almost hit the floor.

Gavin gave me a gentle nudge, and I took a step forward, taking in my surroundings in awe. The great room boasted neutral tones and a large, comfortable-looking sofa.

On one end, an elegant kitchen complete with top-of-the-line appliances and more city views. On the other, a staircase wound upward to a second floor, and behind it, a hallway stretched further into the unknown.

“Wow,” I breathed. “This place is incredible.”

He shrugged and dropped his keys in the drawer of the entry table.

“Do you want a tour?” he asked casually.

~Hell yes.~

“No,” I lied. “I want you to tell me what is going on.”

His face turned solemn, and he jerked his head toward the hallway.

“This way.”

He pushed open a set of double doors, and I followed inside.

A large mahogany desk sat in the middle, with large bookcases behind it.

The walls were mostly sparse, but I did notice a few framed newspaper clippings and some sports memorabilia.

As with the living space, this room had an unencumbered view of the skyline.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to one of the well-cushioned chairs opposite his.

I sat on the edge with my hands tightly folded in my lap, resisting the urge to tap my foot.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” He pulled a folder from the drawer to his right. “I have a proposal for you.”

He handed me the document, and I looked at it.

In bold letters, it read: PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE: GAVIN POWELL TO ANNALISE MILLER.

I almost burst out laughing and then noticed his stoic expression.

I looked from him to the paperwork and back again several times.

“I don’t get it.”

“What do you mean?” He shrugged.

“This is a joke, right?” I asked, pointing to the title page.

“Far from it.” He leaned back in his chair. “If you read it, I think it makes perfect sense.”

Realizing the punchline must be hidden somewhere, I started quickly scanning through the pages.

The further along I got, the deeper my brow furrowed.

Each section had an official-sounding title: distribution of assets, real estate allocation, allowances, familial disputes, holidays, and confidentiality.

“What is this?” I threw the stack back on his desk.

“As I said, it’s a proposal, Annalise.”

I stood up and started pacing.

My head was spinning, and I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest.

“By proposal, you meant an ~actual proposal~?” I asked in a high-pitched voice. “I am your assistant. I work for you.”

“Please take a breath and sit down,” he said in an annoyingly composed tone. “I can explain everything.”

I laughed at the absurdity. “What possible explanation is there? You’re asking me to ~marry you~? At what point did I give you the impression that that would be something to interest me?” My voice was becoming shriller.

“You didn’t.” He got up to stand in front of me.

I huffed, and he placed both of his hands on my upper arms.

“Come sit down,” he said gently. “Give me a chance to walk you through it.”

I followed him numbly, mostly because I was trying to decide if I had teleported to another dimension.

We retook our seats, and Gavin folded his hands on the desk in front of him.

“You’ve worked for me for four years—”

“I’m aware.”

He gave me a pointed look, and I rolled my eyes.

“In that time, you have been one of the most dependable people in my world,” he explained. “You take care of every aspect of my life, and you do it with ease. I trust you more than any other person I know, Annalise.”

“That makes me a good employee,” I told him. “That doesn’t mean I can be your wife.”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “We get along. We work well together. This can’t be that much different.”

“You could have any woman you want,” I pointed out. “You’ve dated actual supermodels. You were with—”

It dawned on me then, and I closed my eyes.

“Is this because you and Chelsea broke up?” I asked and slowly met his gaze. “The two of you were together for a long time. I can see where that would be difficult.”

Gavin had dated runway model Chelsea Marks for a couple of years, on and off.

Their very public split had come as a shock six months prior, after weeks of a rumored engagement.

“Annalise, you know me. I don’t do anything without being absolutely sure. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Then…why?”

~Why me?~ was what I really wanted to ask, but I feared I might not like the answer.

He took a deep breath. “I want more from my life. I want to be married. I want a family.”

“Then find someone and fall in love,” I offered.

“That won’t happen for me.” He shook his head and pursed his lips. “Everyone I meet knows who I am. They all want something. Very few people really care about me as a person. They only see what I can offer them.”

“That can’t be true.”

He chuckled. “Become a billionaire by thirty, and you’ll see what I mean. I want to know that there’s something good to come home to.”

I felt the raw emotion in his voice, even if he was trying to mask it.

“Look, Gavin. I think you’re great, but I’m not in love with you.”

He shook his head. “I’m not asking for love. You can read all fifty pages in front of you, and not once will you see it mentioned.”

“So, you’re asking me to legally be your wife? I don’t understand.” Then, a thought occurred to me. “Wait, you said you wanted a family.”

My mind reeled.

“Yes, I would like to be a father,” he confirmed.

I didn’t know whether to be appalled or let him in on the fact that my panties were moist just from the suggestion of sleeping with him.

“This has got to be some form of sexual harassment,” I muttered.

“I’m sure Sandy in HR would have a field day.” He grinned, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Gavin, this will never work. You’re going to come to your senses. Then where does that leave me?”

He stared at me for a moment.

“Even if I left my job today and never made another dime, my great-grandchildren could never spend all the money I’ve made. The possibilities for you would be limitless. You could go anywhere and do anything you’ve ever wanted.

“I’m asking you to be my wife because you are loyal, and smart, and incredibly kind. There is nothing more I could ask for. If you’ll let me, I’ll give you the world.”

Despite my protests, I couldn’t deny that at the very least, I was intrigued. There was just one thing missing.

“But not love?”

He shrugged. “With everything else, would you need it?”

I stared out the windows, toward the sun falling lower in the sky. It was a million-dollar view. Actually, it was probably tens of millions, and, as he pointed out, just a drop in the bucket.

Despite my dedicated search, I’d come up empty when looking for my soulmate. Would it be so bad to give up?

He would give me anything I wanted at the price of just three little words I would never hear.

Why did that nearly break my heart?

I leaned back in my chair, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in his massive office. “I need some time to think. This is too much.”

Although he tried to hide it, his disappointment was obvious. “Okay.”

“Can I have the night to decide?”

He stared at the document on the desk between us and nodded. “Of course. Take whatever time you need.”

“I’ll have Mark drive you home,” he said, passing me the contract. “At least look it over?”

I took the stack of papers, marveling at how heavy they felt compared to just a few moments prior.

“I will.”

Our walk back to the elevator was shrouded in heavy silence.

“Have a good evening, Annalise,” he said as I hit the button for the ground floor.

I wished I knew what to say.

All I could come up with was, “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

His hand stopped the doors just as they started to close. I stared up at his intense gaze with wide eyes and felt my heart skip a beat.

~Does he have to be so handsome?~

His voice was low when he said, “Say yes, and I’ll make your every desire a reality.”

~Shivers~.