Brazen Bossman: A Hero Club Novel

by Emma Nichole

  Nathanial

  “What are you doing?” Gabrielle says into the echoing abyss that is my home gym.

  I’ve been in here for the last two hours, running, letting all of my pent-up… everything… seep away from my body with every breath and every drop of sweat.

  “How did you get here?” I ask, but I don’t stop what I’m doing, in fact, I push even harder.

  “I knocked. Gina answered. She let me in and told me you were down here.”

  “Remind me to fire her for not listening when I said the words, ‘I do not want to be disturbed.’”

  “Stop being an ass, dude. I came to get some signatures from you then I’ll leave you be, but maybe get out of the house? Running yourself to death isn’t going to help anyone.”

  As much as I’d like to tell her I’m running to keep myself from furiously jacking off to the vision of my fucking assistant, and to keep from marching my ass straight to NoMad and inserting myself right into the middle of her date, that’s not exactly something one would tell their oldest friend and business partner.

  Eavesdropping isn’t something I’d ever admit to, but when I happen to be within earshot of a certain conversation, I would be called a dirty liar if I said I didn’t pause to take a listen.

  I’ve developed an air of possessiveness over Piper that isn’t mine to claim. It doesn’t even make sense, but there has been a small, black inky spot in my body that craves her since the day we first met, and it’s been growing more and more every single day.

  I press the button to shut off the treadmill and yank the towel from the rack, wiping the sweat from my face and bare chest.

  I take notice of her long-sleeved, bodycon dress and red pumps.

  “Nice dress. Sugar daddy coming through?”

  “Ha ha. Funny. What makes you think I’m not a sugar mommy? Huh?”

  “Touché.”

  “You need to get out of the house, N,” Gabrielle sighs as she pulls a pen from behind her ear.

  “I go out all the time.”

  “Inviting women over to your house, then kicking them out a few hours later doesn’t count as going out. I know life is stressful right now, but this won’t help you cope.”

  She has always been able to call me on my shit, even as kids. She stands at five foot four inches, on a good day, and wouldn’t hesitate to put someone twice her size in their place. She reminds me of a blonde pixie with the attitude of a dragon. That’s how I knew there was no one I’d rather be in business with.

  “I have a therapist I pay for these conversations. I don’t need it from you. What am I looking at here?” I motion to the manila folder she is holding.

  “We are closing the deal on the 1600 block of Maple in the upstate area. It’s a prime piece of real estate, and I have it in good faith that we should be able to flip it for a nice profit, once we handle the demolition.”

  “Any word on who wants it?”

  “Possibly the city. I’m still putting feelers out. If I hear anything, I’ll cut a deal for using us in the design portion of the rebuild.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Eww. No thanks, and honestly, at this point, you’re my boy. I’m kicking ass over here.”

  “I wouldn’t trust anyone with this except you.” I nudge her with my elbow then scribble my signature. “Is that it?”

  “Yep. That’s all I needed.” She closes everything and slides the pen back behind her ear. “Think about what I said. Go out tonight. Put your thoughts away for a while. Interact with someone on a personal level. Not just professional or sexual.”

  “Like I said… I pay a therapist to spout the psychobabble bullshit.”

  “I’ve been around your family for years. I’ll always show my concern, as a friend and as your partner.”

  “I appreciate that, Gabs, I do, but I’ll handle all of this in the way I can. That’s all I can do. Once I’m able to get some movement on selling Lennox Publishing and get back to my own life, you’ll see a marked improvement from me.”

  “Are you sure you still want to do that? Doesn’t it seem… fucked up… to do?”

  “What are my alternatives? I can’t manage it full time, not if I want to keep my fifty-fifty partnership with you. I want to wash my hands of it, give my mom a nice chunk of money to live on from the sale, and say goodbye to it.”

  “I don’t even know why I bother. You’re one stubborn motherfucker.” She tucks the manila folder back under her arm. “I need to get going. I’ve got a date.” She gives me a wide smile.

  “God help whoever it is.” Gabrielle has always seen the person, not a gender. It’s one of the many things I love about her.

  “She is a writer for Cosmo, actually. We met online on Bumble.” She tousles her hair a bit. “How do I look?”

  “Perfect, as always. I’m a phone call away if it goes south.”

  Gabrielle has been like a sister to me, and I’d do anything for her, even it means rescuing her from the big, bad writer.

  I follow her back into the main living area, seeing her out the door and as soon as I’m alone, my mind wanders to what she said.

  Maybe I do need to get out.

  A good meal couldn’t hurt.

  Neither could some company who is very pleasant to look at, even if her conversation is subpar.

  In fact… I know just the person… and the place.

  Chapter 4

  Piper

  Dear Ida,

  I’m going on a date with someone tonight.

  I feel like I should be more excited than I am, but all I can think about is him.

  The ever-looming, way too attractive for his own good HIM.

  How can I put him aside and get him out of my head?

  P.

  ***

  True to his gentlemanly ways, Ryan is waiting for me outside of NoMad when I arrive. He’s dressed in an ill-fitted suit that could use a bit of a tailor, but nevertheless he looks nice.

  I’d even go as far as to say that he’s even pretty cute.

  “Piper?” he asks, as I approach and a smile spreads over his face.

  “That’s me.”

  “Wow. You look lovely.”

  I opted for a cocktail dress tonight. The top is a deep plum that sits off my shoulders, exposing my entire décolletage and the pink oleander, watercolor tattoo that decorates my left shoulder blade. The skirt portion is black, with layers of tulle underneath to give it some volume, and suede, plum pumps to tie it all together. My hair is down, curled softly and pulled completely over my right shoulder. I feel classy. Hell, I must feel classy to be comfortable eating somewhere as bougee as this.

  “Thank you. You haven’t been waiting long have you? I ran a little behind.”

  “No. I haven’t been here long, but our table should be ready, so let’s head in.”

  He places his hand on the small of my back and leads me into the restaurant.

  NoMad is broken up into multiple different types of rooms, with different feelings and purposes, but the room we are taken to is very dark and very intimate.

  The walls are deep and blood red in color to match the upholstered chairs. Black sconces decorate them, providing minimal, warm lighting to the area, and the dark wooden tables wrap everything together in a neat package.

  This place is so far out of my comfort zone.

  The young man who walked us to our table pulls my chair out for me, and scoots it in once I’m seated.

  “Thank you,” I say up to him.

  “My pleasure, ma’am. Can I start you with any wine or a cocktail this evening? I can get that before your server comes by your table.”

  “A bottle of pinot noir. How does that sound, Piper?”

  I’m not a wine drinker… at all. Which is ironic, considering my Italian heritage, but I’m a liquor girl, yet I don’t have it in me to tell him. I know instantly that I’m too much of a woman for him. Maybe that’s shitty of me to assume, but I’m usually a good read of people.

 
“Anything you’d like is fine.” I open the menu and take a look.

  “Pinot it is,” he tells the host.

  “Right away.”

  He runs off, leaving us to ourselves.

  “So… what is good here? I’ve never been before.” I peek at him over my menu, and he is staring intently at his. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I am.” He smiles a bit. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous.”

  Poor guy. “I don’t bite. There’s no reason to be nervous. We’re just getting to know each other, right? Having a meal?”

  “You’re just really pretty. Way prettier than the picture my mom sent me of you.”

  I crinkle my nose. “Thanks… I think.”

  “Wait. No. I’m sorry. That was stupid. That’s not what I meant.” He adjusts his glasses a bit. “I just meant… Jesus. Oh thank God, the wine is here.”

  “A little liquid courage never hurt anyone.”

  A few moments later, our wine is poured, our food is ordered, and we are left alone again.

  I take a small sip from my glass and fight the physical urge to make a face. It’s so bitter and so dry; I honestly hate it.

  “Mmm,” Ryan says under his breath. “That’s delicious. We may need another bottle of this.”

  No. Please no.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “So, tell me what you do. My mom told me briefly, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

  He has mentioned his mom more than once since we’ve been here. I feel like that’s a red flag in a Cosmo magazine somewhere.

  “I am an administrative assistant at Lennox Publishing. Basically, I just do any and everything the CEO needs, and that ranges from basic secretary work, to prepping documents, etc. It’s not revolutionary work, but I do enjoy it for the most part.” I take another small sip of the wine, once again trying so hard not to make a face.

  “So you’re like… a receptionist?”

  You know that slow blinking white man GIF? That’s me. Right now.

  “No, I’m not a receptionist.”

  “Christ. I’m sorry, Piper, I didn’t mean that to be as offensive as it sounded. I’m just trying to make conversation.” He takes a large chug of his wine.

  Don’t take his head off, Pipes. He’s clearly nervous and that means you’re an intimidating badass bitch. Score!

  I give him a small smile. “It’s fine. No worries at all. It’s easy to confuse the two.” I scrub my hands down my skirt, smoothing out the fabric. “So, what do you do?”

  He opens his mouth to speak, but stops abruptly when our server appears by our table.

  “I have a Macallan on the rocks for the lady,” he says, as he places it down on the table in front of me.

  I absolutely did not order a fifty-dollar glass of alcohol, even though whiskey is my favorite thing on the planet.

  “We didn’t order this,” Ryan adds in.

  “No, you didn’t. This is courtesy of a gentleman across the room. He asked that we bring it to the lady and send him the bill, as well as your entire table bill.”

  “What?” I look around, trying to focus in on the tables across the darkened room.

  It doesn’t take long before an electric current courses up my back when my eyes connect with another pair directly across from us.

  Nathanial Lennox holds up a matching glass of Macallan and gives me a smile.

  I’m angry. I’m so immediately angry for a couple of reasons.

  1: He’s here. Why is he here?

  2: Why would he send me such an expensive drink and try to pay our entire bill? I’m on a date!

  3: My body instantly responds to his gaze on me. It feels like warm hands caressing my skin, and my heart sinks into my stomach.

  4: He did all of this, caused this reaction in me… all while there is a blonde-haired bimbo with huge tits hanging all over him at the dinner table.

  “Do you know him?” Ryan asks.

  “I do. He’s my boss.” I toss my napkin to the table from my lap and look up at the server. “Please send this back to the gentleman and tell him I won’t accept this, and we won’t be accepting his offer to pick up our bill.”

  “It has already been taken care of, ma’am,” he says and places the drink back down on the table. “Your entrees should be ready any moment now. I’ll be back with those soon.”

  He turns away from us and exits the dining area.

  “Well, that’s an interesting turn of events. Should we go talk to him?” Ryan says.

  “No.” I answer quickly. “There’s no need. I get enough of him at work. Truly, I’d like a break. He can be a bit… overbearing.”

  “Uh, well, I think you’re getting a bit more of him. He’s heading over here.”

  “What?” I whip my head around and come face-to-face with a suit-covered abdomen. My nose even collides. “Oh shit. Oh my God.” I place my hand on my heart, having just had the life scared out of me.

  “Easy on the suit, Ms. Kingston. These are expensive to dry-clean.” He chuckles a bit and I look up to his face, seeing his sparkling teeth behind the smile.

  “You scared me. I didn’t expect you to be standing like… right here when I turned around.” I turn back to Ryan. “Ryan, this is my boss, Nathanial Lennox. Mr. Lennox, this is my date for the evening, Ryan Russo.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lennox, and it’s truly unnecessary for you to pay our bill tonight.”

  Nathanial holds a hand up to stop him. “It’s already taken care of. Piper is an important member of my staff. It’s the least I can do.”

  I could be making it up in my own head, in fact, I hope I am, but I swear I can feel him ever so slightly running his thumb across the skin of my back. It could have been by accident, it could have been on purpose. Either way, it makes me shiver from head to toe.

  “I have some entrees for the table,” our server says from behind Nathanial, and I could leap up and kiss him for breaking the awkward tension that was certainly about to thicken.

  “Ah, well, that’s my cue. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to your meal,” he says with that arrogant, asshole tone I know so well. Anyone else would think he was being genuine, but I know better.

  ***

  For the next thirty minutes, I actively try to ignore the fact he is here, even though I can hear the cackle of his date every fifteen seconds.

  I eat my meal, which by all accounts is delicious, but I can feel his gaze on the back of my neck. His presence is so large it fills the entire room.

  Ryan is a nice man, he’s even decent company, so I do feel some sense of guilt that my attention is pulled so blatantly elsewhere.

  “Would you like to take a walk after this? It’s a nice night out, and I’d like to continue the evening… if you’re willing?”

  You owe him that, Pipes. He’s a sweetheart.

  “Sure. Let me just run to the ladies’ room and I’ll meet you out front.”

  Nathanial

  “Do they have pasta here? I’ve been eating nothing but pasta lately. My personal trainer says that’s the latest thing. The pasta diet.” Courtney, my companion for the evening, says as she leans in to look at the menu in front of me, rather than the one in front of her.

  It’s a calculated move to press her tits against my arm, as if I don’t already know she’s a sure thing.

  “Seems counterintuitive.” My ears are tuned to what she’s saying, but my eyes are trained on the stunning beauty on the other side of the restaurant.

  I know I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I know that being here, using what I overheard to my advantage, could be described as… insane… but I’m only human.

  She intrigues me, and hearing she was going on a date tonight lit an unknown fire inside of me.

  The dress she’s wearing is classy, but sexy at the same time, revealing a part of her body I’ve never seen before. I had no idea she had a tattoo. Seeing the brightly colored ink on her skin is a revelation, and I know I want to see if she has more
that I can’t see.

  I shouldn’t have touched her while I was behind her, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was a moth and her skin was a flame.

  “There’s something about the carbs combined with an intense workout regimen that is supposed to work wonders,” Courtney continues. “I trust the professional.” She leans in closer to me and places a hand on my thigh. “You seem tense, baby.”

  “Don’t call me that. You know I hate that pet name bullshit.”

  She scoffs, “You’re lucky I like you. You’re an asshole sometimes.”

  “So I’ve been told, yet here you are, dining on a good meal, drinking expensive alcohol, and likely coming on my cock later, so from where I’m sitting, you have nothing to complain about.”

  She has some smart-ass remark to that, but I don’t even hear it. My attention is completely on the dark-haired beauty across the room.

  When I saw the server bring over that mediocre bottle of red wine, there was no hesitation. I sent over a glass of Macallan 18 because if there is one alcohol Piper despises, it’s red wine. She’s a whiskey girl. How could he not know that by looking at her? She’s so much richer than a basic, dry wine.

  “Hello? Earth to Nathan.” Courtney snaps her fingers then waves toward me. “I’ve been talking to you for a solid two minutes.”

  “Don’t call me, Nathan. No one calls me that. Ever,” I snap.

  “Jesus. I’m sorry. You’re high-strung today. You need to lighten up.”

  “I’m well on my way.” I hold up my glass of whiskey.

  “Speaking of, who is that girl you walked over to talk to?”

  “My administrative assistant. I wanted to say hello.” It’s not technically untrue. I just leave out the portion about wanting to scope her date out.

  “She’s pretty.”

  Pretty. Jesus. That word isn’t even good enough to describe what Piper Kingston is.

  She’s a pain in my ass, but I’m completely captivated by her, and when she receives her drink and turns around to meet my eyes, I know, even as fucked up as it is, I want her.