Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

Chapter 34 [Atlas]Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

Sydney is in a very good mood for having to stay late on a Friday night. She never complains when I ask her to come early and stay late, making her a great assistant and employee. 1

Which makes what I have to say to her so much more difficult.

I no longer feel comfortable pretending to be okay with our relationship.

She is too young, too inexperienced, and in a position that is of significantly lower status than my own. I know that plenty of bosses have relationships with their assistants, but I never saw myself as one of those men. And yet here I am, reliving my college days, dating co- eds and hanging out at beach bonfires

with kids who call each other "bro".

I am so wrapped up in my thoughts that it is only on the third time that states her question that I actually hear her request.

"Atlas, do you want me to book you a room at the convention?"

"Didn't we discuss this before?" We have been planning my attendance at the upcoming LA Fashion Expo for the last week. "I thought we had this settled."

"Well yes and no," she looks down at her tablet. "According to my records you were still deciding on if it was worth driving across town for the two days and sleeping in your own bed, or if it makes more sense for you to get a room since doing so would be a tax write- off," she beams, proud of her note taking as she lists off the things we have and have not discussed so far.

"Speaking of which, while you are making the arrangements, please make sure to request accommodations and entry for yourself as well."

She sits up taller, her voice rising as asks, "You want me to come along with you?"

"Of course," I say carefully, making sure there is no misunderstanding. "As my assistant, I owe it to your father to make sure you return to him with the skills you need to help run the family business. I have been doing a poor job of that lately. I want you to be a part of the buying and hiring process."

"Oh," her face falls as her shoulders slump. "So you want me to go as your protege, not as..." her face turns red, unable to finish her sentence.

She thought I wanted to take her on an overnight trip as my girlfriend. Even if we were dating I wouldn't be ready for that.

"Sydney, Ms Bryant, that's the other thing I need to discuss with you...

I think it would be better if we were to keep our relationship strictly professional here at work. That includes any trips or conventions." I pause, making sure she is listening as I add. "Even if we were dating, I'd want that." "Were?" her voice is small as she realizes what I just said. "But I thought..." she sputters, "I thought we agreed..."

"That was a mistake," I admit, looking down at my hands. "I should have never led you on. Dating you was inappropriate. I am your boss, and even if I weren't, you are too young for me and..."

"I am the exact same age as your ex-wife," she huffs, crossing her arms. "We were born less than a week

apart."

"The different," I say without hesitation. "With Cordella it is...was...different." I don't want to go into detail about how our relationship came to be. Not only because of it not being any of her business but

because it hurts for me to think about it.

"Maybe it can be different with us too," she suggests.

Her eyes are full of tears as I raise my head to meet her gaze. "Sydney. This was..is...I just want to let you know you did nothing wrong."

A tear rolls down her cheek.

"But I still want us to be only friends," I finish. "And as your friend, I need to advise you to find your own happiness. There is someone out there for you. I'm just...I don't think I am that person." Another tear rolls down her chin and lands on her lap. "I understand," she sniffles.

As I relay all of the rest of our travel instructions, I feel guilty, watching her struggle to regain her poise while also dealing with her emotions After a couple of minutes, I excuse her, letting her know that I will see her tomorrow at 7am sharp so that we can check into our rooms before the convention officially

starts.

On the day of the convention, I arrive to pick her up to find her already waiting for me, impeccably dressed, her hair glossy and perfectly styled. You would never know that I broke up with her the day before based on the glow of her smile. "Ready to go, Boss!" she salutes in that strangely endearing way that she does when she is eager to start a new project or follow a command.

The drive over is easy, and the vibe is jovial as we discuss our plans for the convention. Sydney seems to be taking our adjusted relationship well and I am grateful that she is proving to be so understanding and flexible.

Maybe this trip together will be the start of a new, positive friendship.

Smiling, I walk over to the concierge booth at the convention center. After taking a look at our IDs, he gives us each badge with our names, the company name, and the title "buyer" announcing our status. He also hands me a key. "For your room, sir," he hands it to me with a small nod of his head. "Complimentary continental breakfast for both of you comes with the room, but if you'd rather not be disturbed, room service can leave a tray outside your door." "I think you must be mistaken," I try to take a look at his reservation list but he blocks my view with his hand.

"I am not mistaken," his face and voice remain professional as he continues to hide the list. "Under the name Atlas Steele I see one room, double occupancy."

"Well, that won't do," my voice is low, but still carries menace as I take a step closer to the booth. "I demand that you find another room for us, immediately."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but we are completely booked up," he begins to explain. "Now if you could step aside..."

I stop listening to his words, my heart having leapt into my throat.

Cordelia is here. And she is on Clark's arm.