Boss Me Forever: Older Man/Younger Woman Workplace Romance

by Cameron Hart

  My jaw drops open at her rudeness, but I quickly recover. I vow right then and there to bring in a ton of shit to put up in my space, just to spite her.

  “Noted. But I haven’t disappointed anyone yet.” I let the innuendo hang in the air. Hopefully I came across as confident, though I’m feeling anything but.

  Tiffany just scoffs at me and walks away, her heels clicking on the floor.

  I get caught up in learning Declan’s schedule and figuring out how his last assistant organized things. If this clusterfuck of a calendar is any indication of the quality of work the last person did, no wonder they got fired. I’m already bursting with ideas on how to more efficiently organize things and communicate more effectively. I’ll prove Tiffany wrong. I’ll outlast all of Declan’s previous assistants.

  “Luna,” a deep, silky voice startles me from my work. I know who it belongs to even before I look up, so I’m not surprised to see Declan standing in front of me.

  I am, however, surprised at the look he’s giving me. It’s cold and distant. So different than the man who interviewed me yesterday, the man whose touch made my heart literally throb… as well as other, lower parts of me.

  “Declan. Sir,” I address him. His eyes flash with something, but then quickly go back to the hard as steel look he was giving me before.

  “I trust you are learning the ropes around here? That I don’t need to hold your hand through every single thing?”

  I’m still taken aback by his icy tone, but I don’t let him fluster me. If this hot and cold game of his is what made his other assistants snap, then I’m all the more determined to remain professional and rise to the challenge.

  “I believe I see why your last assistant didn’t live up to your expectations,” I tell him in as smooth a voice as I can muster. Declan looks amused for a second, but then schools his features. “I already have a few ideas on how to restructure—”

  “I don’t need to know the details, just make my life easier and let your work speak for itself.”

  With that, he raps his knuckles on my desk and goes back into his office, slamming the door shut.

  Oh, I’ll let my work speak for itself, alright. I’ll be the best damn executive assistant he’s ever seen.

  Chapter 5

  Declan

  I had a shit night of sleep thinking about little Luna in her polka dot blouse and teal skirt. Why that ridiculous outfit turned me on so much is beyond me. It took until two in the afternoon to make my dick stand down after just barely looking her up and down through the glass wall in my office. I waited another hour before venturing out of my office and checking in on her.

  I’m pissed at myself for hiring her, and even angrier that I can’t seem to control my body’s reaction to her. And then she went and called me sir and all but called my last assistant an idiot. Both of those things drew me closer to her. And then she got all excited about her ideas for efficiency. That little spark in her eyes telling me she couldn’t wait to prove herself had my cock lengthening in my slacks again, and I had to walk away. God, those olive eyes of hers were so full of innocence. She’s fifteen years younger than me. She’s a bright, bubbly force to be reckoned with. And I don’t need that kind of complication in my life.

  I sigh and lean against the back of the elevator on the way up to the office. I rub my temples, hoping to ward off the fogginess in my head before the day has even started. The elevator door dings and opens up to my floor.

  I don’t even take ten steps into the lobby before my eyes are assaulted with pink. So much pink. I had no idea there were so many shades of pink, but apparently there are. And Orange. And yellow. The explosion of color hurts my eyes and gives me an instant tension headache. All of it is coming from one little miss Luna’s desk.

  She brought in an orange fleece blanket, a pink throw rug, and pink picture frames including but not limited to one with pink jewels on it. There’s an honest to god yellow fuzzy bean-bag chair in the corner of her cubical. She has a bright pink dry erase board, a pink bulletin board, a pink stapler, pink sparkly mousepad, an assortment of pens with feathers sticking out of the end organized by color. She even has a fucking sequined pillow on her office chair.

  Just then, Luna pops up from under her desk, where I see she was plugging in a lava lamp. With, you guessed it, pink lava.

  She smiles brightly at me and waves enthusiastically. Is having too much color a good enough reason to fire someone? I’m guessing not. Shame.

  “Morning, Declan!” She says all too cheerfully. And I thought the sequined pillow was loud.

  I grunt at her and walk into my office. It’s too damn early for this much color. And sound.

  It’s only for a little while, I remind myself. Surely after a few months the board will see that Asher, Cooper and I are capable of not only keeping the business afloat but taking it to new heights.

  I open up my email, expecting the usual barrage of a hundred different requests, either from clients, potential clients, or employees. Only, I don’t see any of that. Instead, I open my inbox and see four separate files.

  “What the hell?” I say to myself.

  Just then, there’s a knock on my door. I already know who it is. She doesn’t even wait for me to answer, Luna just waltzes right in, coffee cup in hand.

  “Hi. I noticed you aren’t a morning person, I thought coffee might help. You’ve got a busy day today! I mean, I suppose all of your days are busy. But today, hopefully I can help.”

  I eye her up and down, taking in her royal blue dress pants and yellow, frilly blouse with orange and blue swirls up the sleeves. Where the hell does this girl shop? And why are her preposterous outfits such a damn turn-on?

  “My email is all fucked up.”

  “Oh, good, so you’ve already seen some of the changes I’m implementing!” She either doesn’t catch the fact that I’m less than thrilled with this new development, or she ignores it completely. “You’ll see here, instead of the chaotic casserole of emails all jumbled in one place, I created these four folders that automatically organize each email as it comes in. The Internal Emails folder are those from employees, New Clients Inquisitions is self-explanatory, then Open Threads is when an email has been responded to and requires a response back from you, and the last one is Junk, which, again… self-explanatory.”

  I’m not sure what to say to all of that. It makes sense, but I still feel like my privacy was violated. That being said, her new system does seem… efficient. I almost want to compliment her, but instead, I say the first thing that pops into my head.

  “Chaotic casserole?”

  “Yeah, you know, like when money is tight but you still need dinner, so you throw whatever veggies and canned goods you have in a casserole dish, add rice and water, stick it in the oven and hope for the best?”

  I stare at her for a second, not sure if I want to laugh or be annoyed with her ridiculous comparison of my inbox to her casseroles.

  “Um, or maybe that was just my mom. You probably had someone who cooked all of your meals for you, huh?”

  Annoyed it is. I don’t dignify her with a verbal response, opting instead to glare at her.

  “Anyway,” she continues after her little outburst. “The email organization was the first thing I wanted to show you.”

  “There’s more?” I grunt.

  “Yes! So glad you asked.” She grins at me. The little brat. I want to bend her over my desk and spank the sass right out of her.

  Well, shit. That’s an image I won’t get out of my head for the rest of the day.

  “I installed a project management app on your desktop. I have it on my phone as well, and I’d like for you to install it on your phone.”

  “Excuse me?” Is she really telling me what to do right now?

  “It’s really quite intuitive. Basically, you or I can put in projects and add other people as necessary. You can rank tasks as high, medium, or low priority, put in deadlines, reminders, all that stuff. It will help us communicate
and have transparency. That way I know what things are most important to you day-to-day while at the same time I can keep an eye on the longer-term projects.”

  “You seem to have forgotten that I’m your boss. You answer to me,” I tell her harshly.

  She stares at me, brow furrowed, head cocked to the side. I ignore the way her confused expression tugs at something in my gut.

  “Right, I mean, I’m just trying to help…” She says, each word so sincere I almost feel bad about what I’m going to say next. Almost.

  “That’s right. Your job is to help me. You are to make my life easier, not more complicated. Did you even think to ask my permission to hack into my email? Or download things on my computer? If I wanted a new workflow, I would have asked for it!”

  “Would you?” She shoots back, that fire blazing in her eyes. I’m equal parts furious and turned on. I lean into the anger.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I snap, almost yelling at her.

  She flinches, and actually looks like she might cry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why does that expression on her face make my chest tighten?

  But then her nostrils flare and her jaw tenses. She balls her tiny fists up and plants them on her hips. Yes, bring it on, little Luna. Give me your fight, your fury.

  “Did you ever think maybe the reason your last seven assistants didn’t work out is because of you? One or two duds, I would understand, and the guy before me seemed a bit dense, I’ll give you that. But maybe you’re frustrated and floundering because of your own shortcomings, and not because of whoever happens to be sitting at that desk outside of your office.”

  My dick is leaking in my boxer briefs as anger swirls with arousal in my veins. No one talks back to me like that, aside from Asher. I hate that I want to fuck this little spitfire into submission, but more than that, I hate how much sense she’s making.

  “It’s the job of my assistant to anticipate my needs and to cover for my shortcomings,” I grit out, fists clenched on top of my desk.

  “And that’s what I’m trying to do!” She yells in exasperation. “I’m trying to be proactive and put systems in place so I can see what gaps need to be filled in!”

  We are at a stand-still, Luna and me. What happens next will determine our boss/assistant relationship. I have every intention of putting her in her place and cutting her down with my words.

  Instead, I watch my hand grab my phone and unlock it. As if under a spell, I see my fingers moving over to the app store and navigating to the project management app she already has on my computer. I listen as she tells me the login information, and type it in.

  What the actual fuck is happening? How did she get the upper hand so quickly?

  She bends over my shoulder and shows me around the app, how she has my schedule and major projects already loaded in there, how I can click into each project and create to-do lists and deadlines. She goes on and on, but I’m still in a trance. She smells like oranges, because of course she does. I turn my head and take in her profile while she continues to tell me about the wonders of the app.

  Luna doesn’t wear much makeup, and she doesn’t need to. Her eyelashes are naturally long and full, her lips a pretty pink that make me wonder if her nipples match. She has a delicate little nose that scrunches up as she says something about not liking a particular feature in the app.

  I watch with rapt attention as she tucks some of her silky blonde hair behind her ear. Then, Luna bites her bottom lip and turns her eyes on me. I realize she must have asked me a question or something.

  “Sir?”

  Jesus fucking Christ, she really has to stop saying that.

  Instead of letting her know I was too distracted by every goddamn thing about her to pay attention to her little spiel, I nod and set my phone on my desk. She takes the hint and backs away, walking towards the door.

  Except, I don’t want her to leave just yet.

  “Luna,” I call out, my voice so deep and gravelly it surprises even me.

  “Yes?”

  “My coffee is cold. I need a fresh cup.”

  Her shoulders drop a little, letting me know I hit my target. Yeah, it’s an asshole move to reduce her to an errand girl after she just reorganized my entire professional life in what I’m sure will be a profound way, but this is only her second day. I can’t let her get too big for her britches, so to speak.

  Luna walks over to my desk and grabs my cup without a word. I bite back a groan as she turns around and walks away. She’s not trying to be sexy, but the sway of her hips and that tight ass of hers has me losing my fucking mind.

  “Anything else?” She asks in the fakest sweet voice I’ve ever heard anyone muster up. It almost makes me grin. I like knowing I got under her skin. It’s only fair. She’s burrowed her way under my skin in less than forty-eight hours.

  “That will be all,” I say dismissively. She huffs out a little indignant breath and shuts my door a little too forcefully.

  Once she’s back at her desk, I spin my chair around so no one can see me, and whip my aching cock out. I fist myself and stroke once, twice, three times, and then explode into my hand like a fucking sex-starved maniac.

  What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter 6

  Luna

  Lucas has his first chemo appointment is today, and I hate that I’m missing it. After my rocky second day with Declan, I didn’t think I could afford to ask for a morning off. I’ve been with White Knight Advertising for a week and a half now, and I’ve hardly spoken to Declan since. After going toe to toe about the emails and project management app, I’ve barely seen him aside from sitting in on meetings and taking notes. He doesn’t look at me or even acknowledge me in those meetings, and I simply email him my notes when all is said and done.

  From what I’ve gathered, he’s not one much for compliments, but he’s quick to tell you if you’re fucking up. So far, aside from our one argument, he hasn’t told me I’m fucking up. I’ll consider that a job well done. A part of me is disappointed in the way things have turned out. I mean, I know it’s for the best. Declan is a bit of a cold-hearted jerk, despite my best efforts to go above and beyond my job description and help him out before he even knows he needs help.

  My phone rings, breaking me out of my thoughts. I take my phone call out in the hallway so as not to disturb the others.

  “Lucas! How did everything go? How are you feeling? Do you need me to come home? Can I pick up some juice or something?”

  “Luna, calm down,” he reassures me. His voice sounds weak, but at least he’s chuckling at me. I can almost see him shaking his head at all of my worry. “It was fine, they did it through an IV, so I don’t have to have a port put in or anything. I’m just feeling a bit weak.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Lucas.”

  “Psh, who says I would have let you come anyway?” He teases. “You’re working so hard and I know it’s all because of me. I really do appreciate this, Luna.”

  “There you go getting all sentimental on me again,” I try to joke, but I don’t quite pull it off, seeing as I have to wipe a rogue tear from my cheek.

  “Yeah, yeah, maybe it’s a side effect of the chemo?”

  We both laugh at that. “I’m glad you’re doing ok. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  He agrees, and we say our goodbyes. I take a few minutes to collect myself. Everything about being a caregiver is exhausting, even on the good days.

  When I get back to my desk, I see Frank poking around, clearly waiting for me to return. He’s nice enough, from the research and development team.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he says, giving me a too-eager grin.

  “Hi, Frank.” I try not to be rude, but I just can’t deal with him right now.

  “Why so stressed? Declan being an asshole again?”

  “You know his office is right there,” I point behind Frank.

  “That’s not a no, gorgeous.”

  I roll my eyes at his names for me. They
should be sweet, I guess, but they make my skin crawl coming from him. I’m more than just a pretty face, and even that is in question half the time.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” I ask, hoping to change topics.

  “As a matter of fact, I was hoping you’d go to lunch with me. It’s about time we got to know each other outside of the office, don’t you think?”

  Frank scoots closer to where I’m sitting in my chair. He’s still leaning on my desk, and now his leg is brushing up against mine.

  “No, thanks, Frank. I’ve got a lot to do here today.”

  “You have to eat, Luna. So why not eat with me?”

  “I’m not hungry right now, thanks though.” I turn on my computer and get to work, doing my best to ignore him until he goes away.

  And then his hand is on my knee. I recoil from his touch, but he grips my leg tighter.

  “I’m trying to be nice here, beautiful. You wouldn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with anyone here, right?”

  “I think you should go, Frank. Please, let go of my leg. I don’t want to go to lunch with you,” I tell him firmly.

  “Why the hell not?” Just then, Frank is pulled away from me.

  “She said she doesn’t want to go to lunch with you, now respect her wishes and get the fuck out of here, Frank.”

  This is the closest Declan and I have been in over a week. He’s much taller than Frank, and he’s currently gripping Frank’s shoulder in a punishing hold while shoving him down the hall. When he turns towards me, I see his anger melt away and looks at me with… concern?

  “Are you ok, Luna?”

  I nod, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Not the first time some creep hit on me,” I try to laugh it off.

  Declan’s eyes harden and he clenches his jaw tight. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that in the work place. I’ll make sure Frank is taken care of.”

  “It’s really not that big of a—”