by A. J. Wynter
Table of Contents
Chapter 2-Kirk
Chapter 3-Marissa
Chapter 4-Kirk
Chapter 5-Marissa
Chapter 6-Kirk
Chapter 7-Marissa
Chapter 8-Kirk
Chapter 9-Marissa
Chapter 10-Kirk
Chapter 11-Marissa
Chapter 12-Kirk
Chapter 13-Marissa
Chapter 14-Kirk
Chapter 15-Marissa
Chapter 16-Kirk
Chapter 17-Marissa
Chapter 18-Kirk
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Copyright
Copyright 2018 by AJ Wynter - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Author's Note:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third party websites or their content.
The Boardroom:
Kirk
The Billionaires of Torver Corporation, Book 2
BY: A.J. WYNTER
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THE BOARDROOM: KIRK
Copyright
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Chapter 1-Marissa
Chapter 2-Kirk
Chapter 3-Marissa
Chapter 4-Kirk
Chapter 5-Marissa
Chapter 6-Kirk
Chapter 7-Marissa
Chapter 8-Kirk
Chapter 9-Marissa
Chapter 10-Kirk
Chapter 11-Marissa
Chapter 12-Kirk
Chapter 13-Marissa
Chapter 14-Kirk
Chapter 15-Marissa
Chapter 16-Kirk
Chapter 17-Marissa
Chapter 18-Kirk
THE BOARDROOM 3: CASSIDY
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Chapter 1-Marissa
When I think back to that June day so many years ago, only one thing stands out—this one memory, preserved in vibrant technicolor. There must have been well over a hundred pictures…caps and gowns and sparkling champagne, groups of my friends all huddled together…but the most vivid memory is one I have no photograph of at all.
I’m in my car driving away as my friends cheer and whoop and laugh, ecstatic with the liberation they feel at finally having a diploma in their hands. But through the window I see him. He’s there, with his parents, who are beaming at him as he stands proud with a bright assortment of tassels and ribbons wrapped around his neck—as any valedictorian would.
I know what my friends are thinking as the car speeds ahead. Goodbye Buffalo, goodbye high school, hello anywhere but here. But I was the one staring at someone through the back window.
And all these years later, as much as I hate to admit it, there’s been a part of me that’s been staring back ever since.
I found myself staring wide-eyed as I walked into the office.
“Don’t worry,” the girl walking me in said with a wink as I examined what must have been an outrageously expensive painting. “Most people make that face the first time they come in here.”
I knew the Torver Group was an illustrious company, but the interior of their office was truly mind-blowing, and must have cost a fortune. The reception room was painted deep gray and decorated with bizarre and brightly colored modern art. A Swiss coffee machine stood in the corner and a thick pile of luxury magazines were stacked in a neat pile on the center table. The furniture, consisting of high-backed cream chairs and a sofa, looked straight out of Versailles.
Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Buffalo anymore.
The girl, who introduced herself as Sabryna, was the assistant to my new boss, Johnathan Torver. She was a curvy black woman with bright eyes framed by dark red glasses. Sabryna had a cutesy, vintage sort of fashion sense, and wore a polka-dotted green and white dress with a plastic owl necklace.
“Sit down,” she said kindly. “Johnathan will be with you in a moment.” I perched myself carefully on one of the chairs, which were so pristine it seemed a shame to sit on them. Sabryna smiled at me as she typed away notes on her computer in the corner, and I tried my best to stay calm.
“Marissa?” asked a voice suddenly, and I nearly jumped.
“Yes,” I said, standing up. “That’s me.”
“Johnathan Torver,” said my new boss, shaking my hand. “Here, let’s sit down in my office.”
I followed Johnathan into his office, which was an organized, manly sort of place made up of mahogany furniture and high-tech gadgets. It was hard not to stare at Johnathan—he was undoubtedly an incredibly attractive man, with piercing blue eyes, dark blond stubble, and a muscular build showing through his button-down shirt.
“Welcome to the Torver Group, Marissa,” said Johnathan, leaning back in his chair. “I hope you know how thrilled we are to have you as our newest board member.”
“Thank you,” I said, my nerves still on edge.
“I expect you had a nice journey from Buffalo? You’ve settled in nicely?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I said, wondering if this ridiculously wealthy man could ever have the faintest idea of just how crappy my apartment was. “I’m loving Seattle already.”
“Excellent,” Johnathan said. “We’re really excited to have you join our board, as you know, after all your experience working with Buffalo Financial.”
I nodded, thinking back to my familiar cubicle at my old company. God, I really hope moving here was the right choice.
“So, it’s already Friday afternoon,” Johnathan said, holding back a yawn, “So we’ll just push your first day to Monday. However, our Christmas kick-off party is tomorrow, and it’d be a great chance for you to get to know everyone.”
“Oh,” I said, my shyness suddenly kicking in. “I don’t know if…”
“Come on!” Johnathan said with the true ease of a former frat boy. “There’s a really stupid ice sculpture and candy canes and everything.”
“Well, alright,” I said, realizing it wasn’t optional. I stood up and straightened out my skirt. “I’ll see you there.” I said, smiling, and shook Johnathan’s hand again.
I took a deep breath as I left the office. New boss, new job, new Marissa.
I just hope the old Marissa would be able to handle the transition.
***
When I got home I spent an hour or two putting my things away in the apartment, arranging and rearranging until I was exhausted. Seattle was a strange city…full of dirt and grime and towering skyscrapers that made me nervous just looking at them. It would take a while to feel at home here.
I logged onto Facebook to see that Johnathan had sent me a friend request along with a formal invitation to tomorrow�
�s party. I sighed, clicked the accept button, and confirmed I’d be at the office at six p.m. sharp tomorrow.
I scanned the faces of the people who had R.S.V.P.’d yes, my stomach already lurching. An evening of small talk with these people would be painful, but unfortunately, very necessary for my success at the company. The people here, judging from their photos, looked far from the type of coworkers I was used to in Buffalo. The profile pictures ranged from tailored professional portraits to vacation photos in front of places like the Taj Mahal and the Eiffel Tower. What on earth was I going to have to say to these people? What was I supposed to—
I froze. Oh, god.
I doubled over the picture and the name to make sure I wasn’t completely hallucinating. This had to be some sort of joke.
Kirk.
After all these years, Kirk.
Chapter 2-Kirk
She’s really smart. I am ashamed at how much this surprises me—but that’s the stereotype for pretty, popular girls like her—they always make the grade, but not from intelligence or work—just their natural ability to float through life without a care.
I am amazed at her focus, and at her respect for me. I smile as she punches buttons into the graphing calculator as if it were second-nature to her. We’ve been lab partners in Biology for only a week, and I’m already getting the dangerous notion that we could become friends.
I have an affection for the Breakfast Club-esqe kind of thrill I get talking to her every day during fifth period…unwrapping who she is. I revel in the tiny details. The cute way she squints into the microscope, the places where she’s doodled on her converse, the discovery that she’s had a crush on Han Solo since she was kid. She’s a little bit extraordinary, and it’s my favorite secret.
That’s all it is.
I should really stop taking advice from Cassidy.
Cassidy, my suave, devil-may-care coworker, a man with a deep voice and British accent that makes girls watch him from across rooms, is clearly not the kind of guy to understand my current dating situation, or lack-thereof.
I’m sitting at a sushi bar near the Space Needle with a girl I met on a dating app Cassidy had raved about. She was just as cute as she was in her photos—a petite blonde in a little black dress, and she was kind and polite. She had said nothing in the past half hour to remotely offend me.
But god, was this woman dull.
My date tonight, another lawyer named Amanda, has done two things during the course of our date—stare absentmindedly into space like she’d rather be anywhere but here, and talk about a problem she had last week with her washing machine.
I try to change the subject to anything else—does she travel? What movies does she like? What bands? Does she have a pet? Siblings? —to no avail. Amanda possessed the extraordinary power of taking anything even remotely interesting and somehow morphing it into a dialogue about the most mundane details of her life.
I didn’t know how I could spend another hour with this woman, much less the rest of my life. I had pulled another hopeless romantic Kirk mind-twist with this date, and within seconds of arranging it I had already imagined a life with Amanda, one filled with dogs and board game nights and really great sex. And, as usual, that dream had a shorter shelf-life than these tuna rolls.
“Should we ask for the check?” Amanda asked, and I nodded. As bad as bad dates were, the awkwardness of ending a bad date could be even worse.
Amanda and I sat there, exchanging tiny, forced, smiles from time to time, and I already couldn’t wait to be at home in bed. I shouldn’t be complaining…Amanda was far from my worst date. There was the girl on the weird avocado diet, the girl who kept bringing up the fact that I was black, the skinny girl who yelled at waiters…Amanda was fine. She was pleasant, and she was pretty. But, damn, was I bored out of my mind. I didn’t know how much longer I could go on like this…going on blind internet dates that were at best extremely dull. I wanted to meet a woman who I clicked with, whose every move fascinated me, one who made me feel like I was walking on air. Like the way…
Never mind.
Chapter 3-Marissa
I like him better than my friends.
It’s a crummy, traitorous thought to have, but it’s there. It’s only after talking to him that I realize what real friendship is supposed to feel like…if you can even call it that. Now when I sit down to lunch with my cheerleading friends, I understand how much of it is just a performance, how much of it is just strategy and politics. I have to pretend to like Tara’s boyfriend even if he’s bad for her, I have to go to Ella’s party even though she said something bitchy to me last week…I’m exhausted. I’m tired, and I’m trapped.
The days when we have a lab are delightful—we laugh and talk and tell stories over a microscope or a dead frog. But even the days when Ms. Eliot is lecturing to us…the days when I can only get a few words in at the beginning and end of class…even those days make me happy, and I can hardly say why. I realize it doesn’t matter, and it’s just because he’s there. I feel him next to me, and I feel safe.
I feel real. I feel understood.
Okay. Breathe. Stay cool. It’s just a party. Just a party with all your new coworkers and your first love you haven’t seen since high school. Just a party that could send your life and career spiraling out of control if you make one wrong move.
Oh, fuck.
I’m on my way up the elevator and wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. My stupid, stupid dress I spent hours agonizing over. Professional for the coworkers, yet sexy for Kirk. I tried. I found a red bubble dress with a sweetheart neckline that accentuated my cleavage, paired with a black cardigan in case I felt I needed to lean towards a more professional look. It would be a miracle if I left this party alive and unscathed.
At the same time, a tiny, girlish excitement rushed through my veins as I watched the numbers go up on the elevator display…I’m only a few floors away from Kirk.
I winced slightly as the doors opened in front of me, I collected myself, walked tall, walked indifferent, and stepped out.
“Marissa!” said Johnathan the second I walked in. “I’m so glad you made it!” He took my arm and led me to center of the room. “Everyone, I want you to meet Marissa Hayes, she’s our new board member, and she’s brilliant!” I blushed as I felt the crowd of well-dressed young professionals eyeing me. “Let’s give her a warm welcome tonight!” Everyone broke out into applause, but I just kept scanning the room. Where was he.
Johnathan led me over to the drinks table. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.
“A glass of chardonnay would be fabulous,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief as people got back to their conversations. “So, any first office party advice?”
“Hm…” Johnathan said, scanning the room. “Cassidy will definitely try to seduce you, but don’t fall for it, um, the apple tarts are good but the sugar cookies Sabryna brought definitely aren’t…um…that’s about it.” He shrugged and smiled.
“Thanks,” I said, and gave him a polite smile. I wondered if Johnathan always acted like he was on top of the world or if he had just had one too many cups of the holiday sangria.
I felt a momentary panic as I was left alone at the drinks table, until Sabryna approached me with a smile.
“Hey again!” Sabryna said. “How’s your first Torver holiday extravaganza?”
I smiled again with relief, glad to have another friendly face around. “Pretty good so far.”
Sabryna gave me a mischievous smile, “Whew, well let me tell you, you sure did choose an interesting time to join this company.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“See over there,” Sabryna said, pointing towards Johnathan, who was practically giggling with a pretty brunette woman in the corner of the room. “That’s Samantha Doyle, who used to be the CEO of Wordsworth before we acquired them. They hated each other. I mean, good lord, did those two want to tear each other’s throats out, but now, I guess…”
“…t
hey want to tear each other’s clothes off?”
Sabryna laughed. “Pretty much.”
I felt myself jump as I noticed Kirk walking in from the other side of room. Oh god, oh crap, here we go.
“So,” Sabryna said. “What do you do when you’re not working?”
“Oh…Oh! I um…I read sometimes, and uh…” I stuttered, watching Kirk from the corner of my eye. It was definitely him, but…
Dear god, did he get sexy.
“What are you reading?” Sabryna asked, and I tried not to be rude as my eyes looked him up and down. Kirk had lost his skinny high-school body and the bit of baby fat in his cheeks. He still stood tall, at over six feet, but now he looked like he must be completely ripped underneath his suit. He had just a bit of stubble and a nearly shaved head, and he wore a nerdy-yet-sexy pair of glasses with dark red frames that complemented the dark cocoa of his skin.
Crap, crap, crap.
I noticed Sabryna staring at me. “Oh,” I said, “Not much. Just uh…mysteries. I like mysteries a lot. Agatha Christie, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I could go on.”
“Did you read Gone Girl? I just loved it, but I thought the movie…”
I zoned out Sabryna’s words as I tried to watch Kirk’s movements. He was talking to Johnathan now, and it was only a matter of time before he saw me.
“Are you okay, Marissa?” Sabryna asked with concern. “You look a little out of it, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, it’s cool,” I lied, taking another sip of wine. “Just a little tired.”
Sabryna looked at me skeptically, and excused herself.
Great. Now one person thinks I’m a total flake.
I wandered over to the food table to sample some of the tiny appetizer crackers…all topped with an assortment of expensive looking and unidentifiable toppings. One was definitely caviar, and then there were some cheeses I’d probably never be able to pronounce, and then—