Misadventures with the Boss

I resisted the urge to play the world’s tiniest violin for her, but she had a strong work ethic and typically got the job done, which tipped the scale in her favor in my book.

Except with this whole assistant thing. That was out of hand.

“When will the agency be sending over a new candidate for me to interview?” I asked, jumping right to the point.

“Oh no, you’re not interviewing them anymore. In fact, the agency stopped working with us when the last two candidates left here in tears. I hired this one myself.”

“What? Why?” I demanded.

“Something to do with unrealistic expectations, boss. You’re burning through their candidates faster than they can send them.”

“Ridiculous. I think maybe we ought to get a new system for vetting candidates so I can—”

“No, I don’t think so. In fact, our legal team has advised me that your behavior could be stepping into hostile work environment territory, and they’ve asked me to handle the details of your staff from here on out. Your new assistant starts on Monday. If she doesn’t work out, you can talk to our counsel and tell them you want to hire the next one yourself.”

“And when am I supposed to find time for that? You know we’re on the verge of a possible merger with Global Business Solutions.” I didn’t mean to snap, but the words definitely came out a little clipped.

“Which is exactly why legal wants to keep us out of lawsuit territory. At this rate, I think the only person who’ll work for you is a superhero. Nobody can keep your insane hours. I know this place is your baby, and you’re amazing at the business side of things, but my advice? Honestly, sir. You need to back off.”

I wanted to reprimand her, but frankly, half the reason I’d hired her was for the straight talk. Yes-people were part of the game, but maybe-not-sir-people were twice as valuable.

“Right, well, thanks for the help, Sally,” I said finally with a frustrated sigh.

“Yup. Have a good weekend.”

The line died, and I put the receiver back down and stared at it for a long moment.

I wasn’t impossible to work for. I was exacting, yes, but I never asked for anything I couldn’t do myself. That was important when it came to being a boss. Or, at least, that’s what I used to think.

Again, the tension inside me rose, and I considered phoning my hookup and asking her to come straight to my office in nothing but a trench coat and some thigh-high boots. Unfortunately for me, that was what strippers and prostitutes did—not random strangers from a damn internet app. The least I could do was buy the woman a nice meal and a good bottle of Cabernet.

For a second, I allowed myself to fantasize about something easy. A long-term casual arrangement with a woman—someone who knew what I needed and when and didn’t have to get her heart involved. Someone who didn’t want a ring or children but just raw, carnal satisfaction.

That was all I was good for, and that was exactly what I wanted in return.

“Just be happy you’re at least getting laid tonight,” I muttered to myself.

Tapping my fingers against the arms of my chair, I considered the files piled high on my desk and shrugged. Tomorrow was a new day, and I could always stop by and pick up the files to work on them from home over the weekend. I needed out of here, stat.

I grabbed my jacket and made for the elevators on the far side of my floor. I would be early for my date, but I needed a good stiff drink, and I couldn’t sit around here waiting any longer—I felt like a damned caged animal.

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket, I headed toward the Florentine Inn around the corner and sidled up to the bar, ignoring the interested glances of the waitresses I passed.

“Sapphire martini, dry as a bone, three olives,” I told the bartender, and he offered me a little nod before setting to work. As I waited, I stared at the door, willing the girl I’d seen online to stroll in, laughing like she had in her pictures.

Fuck dinner.

When I saw her, I was going to corner her and suggest we have a drink or two and then get straight to the main event. Even now, I could feel my blood running hotter at the thought of sinking deep into her hot, tight—

“Your drink, sir.”

The bartender set my glass in front of me, and I took a sip and tried to relax. I enjoyed my drink and the quiet of my thoughts for a few minutes before my gaze ventured to the door again and landed on a woman who was unmistakably the one I’d been looking for. She was walking through the wide glass doors with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. A long tan trench coat hugged those supple curves, but based on the hint of cleavage peaking out from under her coat, I knew the pictures hadn’t been a lie.

She was stacked, a perfect hourglass my hands itched to trace.

Still, as she walked toward the bar on long, shapely legs, I couldn’t help but think she didn’t look like the one-night-stand type. She looked…sweet. Almost innocent. Maybe it was something to do with her wide blue eyes or the curve of her full, luscious lips. More school girl than call girl.

When she smiled at me, though, all my blood rushed south, and I realized that nice in the streets and naughty in the sheets was okay by me.

She had a mouth and a body built for pleasure, and I couldn’t wait to make her scream.

Fantasy Girl 29 indeed.

Chapter Three

Piper

I felt naked.

Not just in that fresh-out-of-the-shower way, either. Nope. As his penetrating gaze raked over me, I felt raw and exposed, like someone had pulled my skirt down in a crowd of people and I couldn’t do anything to fix it. The weirdest part was, I didn’t hate it.

Heat was rushing to my cheeks, and for a moment, I considered tucking tail and running from the bar, but something inside me kept me moving and making my way toward the man who hadn’t stopped staring at me since I’d walked in. Maybe it was the fact that, for the first time since I got to New York, I felt energized. Excited. Full of anticipation.

There was no doubt in my mind this was the guy I was going for. After all, he was exactly Hailey’s type. His dark hair was a little shaggy but well kept, and his dark eyes were soulful and hot, assessing me and, based on the slight smile on his chiseled lips, liking what he saw.

Which only made my blush deepen.

He was too handsome and intimidating to be the kind of guy I normally would have gone for. Based on his perfectly tailored dark-blue suit, I had to guess he’d come straight from work, but even now, in the bar, he hadn’t bothered to loosen his tie or take off his jacket.

No, he looked like he was ready to make a fresh acquisition.

And based on the hungry look in his eye? I knew exactly what kind of merger he had in mind.

You can do this.

Clearing my throat as I reached him, I forced a friendly smile and stuck out my hand.

“Hi there. I’m Piper.”

“Nice to meet you.” His warm palm swallowed my hand, and he gave me one confident pump before releasing me and motioning to the chair beside him. “Jackson. What’s your drink?”

“Pear vodka and cranberry,” I said automatically.

“Interesting combo,” he said with a half smile.

“When you taste it, it makes perfect sense. Sweet and tart and delicious. Heaven in a glass.” I slid onto the little stool, and Jackson summoned the bartender with a wave of his hand. When the other man approached, he ordered my drink and then watched as the bartender set to work.

Following his lead, I watched too and was overcome with a swell of gratitude when I saw exactly how much vodka the guy poured for me. Something about tonight made me feel like I was going to need every last drop.