Brazen Bossman: A Hero Club Novel

by Emma Nichole

  I step closer, and she still hasn’t noticed me. I cross my arms over my chest and simply watch.

  Something could have happened between the time she left my office and now that has her so relaxed and glowing, but the caveman in me likes to think this is all, one-hundred-percent, my doing.

  She closes the filing cabinet she was adding files into and turns back toward the front, finally spotting me.

  “Jesus fuck!” she shouts, yanks her earbuds out, and lays her head on her desk. “You scared me. Holy hell.”

  I can hear her hyperventilating and see her back rising and falling with each breath and I chuckle.

  “That wasn’t my intention. I just thought it was impolite to interrupt your dance party.”

  She sits up and stares at me. “How long have you been standing here?”

  “Long enough.” I nod to her phone. “What are you listening to?”

  “Lizzo. She is good for putting you in the right frame of mind.”

  “And were you in a bad frame of mind?” I arch my brow.

  “Sort of.” She gathers her earbuds from the desk where she threw them and slides them into her desk drawer, along with her phone.

  “Then you’ve led me directly into the reason I came to see you. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”

  “What?” Her eyes have gone wide and I think her mouth dropped all the way to the floor.

  I take a look around to make sure we are alone and there aren’t lingering eyes or ears at the moment and it seems we are in the clear.

  “We should probably have a discussion, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Oh, okay, yes, definitely. We should.” She nods and fiddles with a pen on her desk.

  “Then it’s settled. Decide where you’d like to eat and I’ll have a car take you from here. I have a few things to take care of first, so I’ll be meeting you.”

  “I have to decide what to feed the boss? That’s a lot of pressure.”

  “Nah. You know what I like to taste.” I smile. “And pick your jaw up off the floor, Ms. Kingston. Someone will notice.”

  Fucking hell, Lennox. Cool it with the fucking flirting, you moron.

  Chapter 8

  Piper

  Ida,

  My boss. Holy crap.

  My boss and I… well… we uh… did something we shouldn’t have in his office, and I don’t know what to think. Now he’s asking to take me to dinner tonight to discuss what happened, and I’m freaking out.

  Should I go? Should I bail? Should I just quit my job, join the witness protection program, and go on the lam?

  Help!

  I’m jittery in my chair as the minutes count down on the clock, ticking closer and closer to six o’clock. I had to email Ida because I just had to tell someone. I couldn’t keep it inside. I felt like I was going to burst, and obviously, I can’t just tell anyone here. Ida was a safe option.

  I’ve only seen Nathanial once since he stopped by my desk, and that was when he strolled by on his way out, reiterating to me that I need to text him where I’d like to eat.

  I just nodded, confirmed I would; then he was on his way, leaving me alone in my thoughts, which arguably is never a good thing. I’m a notorious overthinker. If overthinking was a sport, winner winner chicken dinner right here.

  The way he is with me changes so frequently, especially today, I think I have whiplash.

  Seeming so angry when I came into the office, then making me come on his desk, then instantly kicking me out. And now he wants to take me to dinner? What the fuck is going on?

  My phone dings with an incoming email, and I see across the notification bar up top that it’s from Ida. She’s so fast sometimes.

  Piper,

  Wow. You have more drama than a soap opera sometimes.

  In a good way, of course.

  And hooking up in the office? Atta girl. Live on the wild side.

  As for dinner tonight, I say go for it.

  You’ve already crossed a line with him; why not explore it a little further?

  You obviously want to or you wouldn’t be asking for advice about it, right?

  Ida

  I swear, sometimes it’s like two different people respond to me from the Ask Ida email. One is like an older, wise, kind aunt. The other is a no bullshit taking, rule with an iron fist, brutally honest best friend. Both are needed in times of crisis, so I’m grateful I’ve been lucky enough to hear from them consistently. Over the course of my time interacting with whomever Ida is, it started as a more formal email conversation with days spanning in between, and has grown into a rapid response, informal conversation.

  I read over her response a few more times and really let it sink in. She’s right. He and I have already done something we can’t take back, so I at least owe him dinner and to hear what he has to say. He specified he wanted to talk, and I’m a mature, grown-ass woman. I can get eaten out and come like I’ve never come before in my life at the hand of my very attractive, asshole of a boss and still be an adult about it.

  I drop my head onto my desk with a thud.

  “Um. Should I come back?”

  I look up to see Kate standing there with her hands on her hips.

  “No, no. I’m okay. Just a little stressed out is all.” I don’t relish lying to my best friend, but this is something I really need to keep to myself for many reasons.

  “I’ve never seen stress make you literally smash your face onto your desk. What gives?”

  “I swear to you it’s just stress. Everything with my mom and the restaurant. She’s talking about selling it off and her apartment now, so things are a little tense between all of us. Which I’m assuming my brother told you, since I know you two are still talking.”

  Deflection. The perfect way to avoid discussing your feelings.

  “This isn’t about me. We’ll have that discussion when there is something to discuss, which there isn’t.” She perches on my desk and crosses one leg over the other. “This is about your mom trying to sell her apartment. Why would she do that?”

  “I mean, I understand the reasons. It would take a lot of financial stress off of her in the long run, but it would strip her of anything normal. She loves that apartment. It’s where we grew up. There are so many memories. And I can’t even fathom not having Kingston’s anymore. That’s further than my brain can process.”

  “Has she exhausted every option?”

  “My brothers and I help her financially in any way we can, but it’s still not enough to break even. I love my father and I miss him every day, but I could punch him in the fucking face for leaving her with this struggle.”

  “I can talk to my father. See if he has any thoughts or a way to help.”

  Kate’s estranged father is some hotshot attorney in California. He calls on birthdays and Christmas, but has shit all to do with her otherwise.

  “Absolutely not. I appreciate that you would do that for my family, but I can’t let you go to him for anything. Especially not for me.”

  “You’re family, Pipes. Never forget that. It’s a standing offer, so if you change your mind, all you have to do is say the word, okay?”

  I rise from my desk and wrap her in a hug. “Thank you.”

  My cell phone vibrates from within my desk and I sigh heavily, pulling away from her to see who is calling me, but when I look at the screen, it’s a text message.

  Asshole: Name a place, Ms. Lennox. Unless you’re planning on standing me up. That would make work very awkward, wouldn’t it?

  I can’t fight the slight smile that plays on my lips and Kate reads it like an open book.

  “Oh my God, I know that smile. That’s a man-induced smile. Who is it? Is it Ryan? Speaking of, you never told me how that date went.” She talks a mile a minute.

  “Huh? Oh, um, yeah, yes, it’s Ryan. He’s just saying hello,” I lie, typing out a response on my cell.

  Me: I do have work to do. My boss is kind of a hard-ass.

  Me: The Blue Room in t
he Village. I’ll be there.

  Asshole: You better.

  I release a shaky breath, tucking my phone back into my desk. This night is going to be very, very interesting.

  Kate checks her smart watch. “Well, I need to go wrap a few things up then I have dinner plans.”

  “With who?” I ask knowingly.

  “Why do we even pretend you don’t know?” She shakes her head.

  “If he’s mean to you, you better tell me and I’ll kill him,” I warn.

  “You know him, Pipes. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  We say our goodbyes and I finish up my last-minute tasks and before long, I’m in the back of an Audi SUV, being driven across the city by the sweetest older man named Arthur.

  ***

  Nathanial is already waiting for me outside of the restaurant when the driver opens my door to let me out.

  “How was the ride?” he asks, taking my hand to help me from the car.

  “Quick, actually. And Arthur is incredibly kind.” I clear my throat. “I could have gotten myself here though. I didn’t need a ride.”

  “Safer than walking or taking the subway.” He says matter-of-factly as he opens the door to the restaurant, letting me step in before him.

  “I have lived in New York my entire life. If anyone can handle themselves in this city, it’s me. I dare someone to mess with me. I’ll break their nose.”

  “You are very confident about that.”

  “I have two older brothers who have ensured I can handle myself with the best of them.”

  He seems to accept that response with a nod. Then he speaks briefly with the hostess before we are taken to a table toward the back with very few patrons around us.

  The Blue Room is a fusion sushi restaurant inside of a converted warehouse, with exposed brick and metals. With a mix of dark wooden tables, and high-backed, white leather booths, it’s the perfect mix of chic, casual, and intimate.

  “I’ve never been here before,” Nathanial says, as he takes his seat in the chair across from me.

  “Really? It’s one of my favorite sushi places in the city.”

  Once we have placed our orders for drinks, we are left alone to browse the menu. I stare down at the options, and I can feel his eyes on me. It’s as if he’s watching every move I make.

  “What sounds good to you?” I ask, trying to break the ice in some way.

  “You’re the expert here, why don’t you order for us?”

  I wrinkle my brows in confusion.

  “Really? The notoriously picky Nathanial Lennox wants someone else to choose what he eats?”

  “I’m not as picky as you all like to assume. I just know what I like and don’t like. I don’t have time to move outside of the usual during office hours. Once I’m done for the day, however, I’m known to be quite adventurous.”

  “I guess we’ll be testing that theory then.”

  Nathanial

  I didn’t think through the fact that I was going to be watching her fucking eat while I’m trying to tell her we need to keep things simple between us, even though deep down, I want to complicate the fuck out of us.

  The way her tongue darts out to lick sauce from her lip, or the way she moans softly when she tastes something she really likes, makes the point of this dinner a distant memory for me.

  “Do you not like what I ordered you?” she asks, as she clearly notices I haven’t touched my food yet.

  “It looks amazing. I was just distracted.” I clear my throat and then pull a pair of chopsticks from the paper sleeve.

  “Try the one with eel sauce first. It’s incredible.”

  “You have a way with food, don’t you? Food and publishing,” I ask her, as I give the sushi a slight dip into soy sauce and place the entire thing in my mouth. It’s sweet, salty, slightly tart, and fucking delicious. “Mmm.”

  “That reaction should answer your question.” She giggles. “My family owns a restaurant in Brooklyn. I’ve been around food and cooking since before I could walk. You could say it’s in my blood. As for publishing, it’s just something I love. I love books. Reading them, learning about them, learning the process.”

  “What kind of restaurant do your folks own?” I ask, genuinely curious about her and her story.

  “Italian. My father was a second generation immigrant and had this dream of owning a restaurant that would celebrate his family’s roots. He made it happen.” She dips another piece of sushi into the soy sauce and pops it into her mouth.

  “And he still runs it? Your father?”

  I see a visible shift in her posture, and she takes a sip of water. “My father passed away when I was twenty, so my mother runs it now with my two brothers. I help in the evenings and weekends.”

  Shit.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “How could you? It was a long time ago.” She gives me a smile.

  “And what about the things I ask you to do in the evenings?” I ask her, because now I kind of feel like an asshole for always assuming she had time.

  “I stay up late and I do them. It’s not ideal, but I’d do anything for my family. They need my help right now, so that’s what I’m doing.” She wipes her mouth with her napkin. “Nathanial, I know we didn’t come here for me to tell you my life story.”

  I place my chopsticks down. “No, we didn’t, but I do enjoy hearing you speak about these things.” I take a sip of water and continue, “I wanted to talk to you about what happened today.”

  She nods in agreement. “Before you start, I just want you to know I don’t regret it, at all, so because I don’t, I don’t want you to regret it either.”

  “The last thing I feel about touching you is regret, Piper. What I do feel though, is concern.”

  “What? Why are you concerned?”

  “I know you felt the same thing I did in that room, just like when I nearly kissed you a few days ago. Had we lost our heads, things would have been taken far. Too far.”

  “I know exactly the feeling you mean.” She shifts in her seat a bit.

  “I can’t explain this pull I have toward you, but it’s distracting and impossible to ignore. If I’m speaking frankly, I know once I had a real taste, I’m not sure I’d be able to stop wanting more.”

  I watch as she places her hands in her lap and moves ever so slightly in her seat.

  “If you’re trying to discourage me from wanting a repeat of what we did today, I can promise the things you’re saying to me are having quite the opposite effect, Mr. Lennox.”

  I can see the flushed, pink hue beginning to crawl up her neck, just as it did when she was splayed over my desk.

  “That’s the issue we are facing, Piper. If we take this… friendship… any further, we run the risk of causing very large problems, not only for me, but for you as well. It’s unethical and against everything I stand for as an employer and CEO.”

  “Then why did we do what we did?” She doesn’t seem upset, not in the least actually. I’m so used to women losing their fucking minds when I tell them we can’t continue on our path.

  “I told you that. I needed to do that for you. I needed to know what you looked like, sounded like when you come… tasted like… or I wasn’t going to be able to function. You invaded my brain and wouldn’t leave.”

  “So what you’re saying is… thanks for letting me stick my tongue in your pussy, but I’m done with you now?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

  “I wouldn’t say it as brashly as you just did, but in a sense, yes. I’m not done with you, Piper, I’m just trying to make sure you don’t suffer.”

  “Suffer? How could I suffer?” Her perfect brow rises in an arch.

  I sigh a heavy breath, scrubbing a hand over my face. “I want to continue seeing you, touching you. Christ, Piper, I want you, but this can’t happen. We can’t do this. I don’t want people to think negatively of you.”

  “Wait, okay.” She laughs. “You are essentially… rejecting me… but trying to sa
y you’re doing it for me? Am I understanding that correctly? Surely you can’t be that typical of a dude, can you?” Her perfectly sculpted brow arches, and I’m struck with a sudden urge to kiss it. It’s a very odd desire, but I think I just want to kiss every part of her.

  “I don’t think you’re understanding.”

  “I think I understand fine. You’re taking away my choice in the matter. What if I want you too? What if I want to do whatever I want without fear of being slut shamed? I know the risks of every decision I make, Mr. Lennox. You’re telling me how things are going to be without truly talking to me about it. You’re rejecting me, but trying to be a hero about it.”

  “I’m trying to talk to you right now, aren’t I? I’m not rejecting you, Piper.”

  “It seems like you’re telling me you made the decision, and that’s the final word on the matter.”

  I sit silently, struggling to come up with something to say… anything to say… that will prove her wrong, but I’m not sure I can. I did come here with the intention of telling her how we’d be progressing, never once did I consider hearing what she wants.

  “Then you tell me what you want out of this? Things are clearly different between us now, aren’t they?”

  “Mr. Lennox, by treating me like one of the bevy of blondes that carousel in and out of your life instead of your equal, I think what I want is to leave and go home.”

  She stands before I can even respond. Why is she so frustratingly stubborn?

  “Maybe I’m overreacting, in fact, I probably am, but I’m high-strung right now, and for the first time in months, I felt a release today. I felt good. I felt powerful and strong and in control. You tried to take that from me without even understanding what you were doing.”

  She squares her shoulders, looking as beautiful and strong as ever. She wants me, and I’ve fucked it up.