Chapter 15 – Can I Help You?

Chapter 15 – Can I Help You?

Noah Blake

Ever since the interview, Juliet hasn’t left my head for a single second. The urge to go back, to call her and say “yes, the job is yours” has been eating me alive. But she has kids. And kids complicate everything.

I need an assistant who’s available 24/7—in every possible way. No conflicts, no emergencies, no divided loyalties. The CEO of Blake Investments needs someone who puts the job first.

And that’s exactly what Juliet is… except I know damn well that if it ever came down to choosing between serving me and her children, her children would win every single time.

The week at the office was pure chaos, mostly because Reed wouldn’t shut up about how stupid I was for letting her go.

“She’s perfect, man.” “Look at this résumé.” “She speaks fluent French.” “Blake, she’s literally perfect for you!”

By Friday night I was done listening.

I didn’t want to see her at the club. Not yet. Then an old submissive showed up, and I needed to blow off steam. I caved.

I gave Caio one clear order: under no circumstances was Juliet to come to my room.

Regret isn’t my style. Neither is obsessing over a woman. But this one… From the moment I first saw her, she’s been under my skin. After tasting her mouth, it only got worse.

Cassie was already on her knees when I walked in. She’s obedient, she can take a lot, and she knows the rules. But every time I looked at her, my brain betrayed me. I saw Juliet. Smelled Juliet. Tasted Juliet.

I’d put in a request with Caio before heading to the suite. Two knocks. I opened the door.

And there she was.

Our eyes locked. For one endless second the world stopped. Her hands shook. Those blue eyes—fully visible tonight without the mask—filled with tears.

She took a step back. I took one forward.

Then Cassie’s voice broke the spell.

“Dom Blake.”

I looked away for half a second. When I looked back, a single tear slid down Juliet’s cheek. She wiped it away fast.

Why the hell is she crying?

“Mr. Blake… your request.” She held out the accessory with trembling fingers.

“Thank you.” My voice came out colder than I meant.

When I took it, our fingers brushed. She looked up one last time, then turned and practically ran.

I stood there like an idiot watching her disappear.

“Noah…” Cassie’s tone had changed—needy, irritated.

I slammed the door, tossed the accessory on the table, and poured myself a whiskey. Downed it in one swallow.

“Get up.”

Cassie rose slowly, testing me.

“Noah, what’s wrong? I thought you wanted this. Thought maybe we could pick things back up.”

I poured another drink.

“That’s not happening. I was clear—this was one night only.”

She stepped closer, trailing a hand down my chest.

“Then make me come, sir…” She rose on her toes to whisper in my ear. “I’ll beg if you want.”

I removed her hands.

“Get out.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Are you deaf now?” I snapped.

“Deaf?”

“Yes. Because you don’t seem to understand a simple order.”

“Is this about the blonde? The waitress? What the hell does she have that every Dom in this place is drooling over her?”

“Probably something you don’t have right now.” I poured another drink without looking at her. “Leave.”

She ripped off her collar and threw it at me.

I ignored it. I knew what she wanted—punishment, a scene, anything. But I wasn’t starting something I had no interest in finishing.

Not with her.

Cassie realized I wasn’t playing. She stormed to the door, paused dramatically, then slammed it behind her.

I finished my drink and headed to the floor.

I needed to find Juliet. I needed to fix this. We had nothing official, but the urge to explain, to make it right, was driving me insane.

That was new.

Atlas spotted me the second I walked out.

“What the hell happened? You weren’t even in there fifteen minutes.”

“Where’s Juliet?”

“She asked for a minute and went to the locker room. Man, tell me she didn’t mess up your scene. This is all new to her—”

“Ju?” The nickname out of his mouth made my jaw clench.

“Blake, seriously—what the fuck is going on? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I just need one minute with her. To explain.”

“I can do it. Just tell me what happened.”

“I’ll handle it myself, Wilson.”

I started toward the staff area, then turned back.

“And don’t let anyone interrupt us. This might take a while.”

He nodded, concern all over his face.

I stopped in front of the locker room door. My hand closed around the handle. I hesitated.

I had no idea what I was going to say.

But I opened the door anyway.

She was sitting on the far bench, feet pulled up, arms wrapped tight around her knees—like she was trying to hold herself together.

I turned the key in the lock.

The click made her look up.

And then she spoke, voice small but steady.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. Noah?”