Accidental Boss

by Tilly Pope

  Very. Hard.

  “Great! When do I start?”

  “Go talk to Nadia at the reception desk and she’ll get you squared away.”

  She inches back toward the door, but there’s hesitation in her step, like she wants to stay. “Uhm, okay. I’m going to go there now.”

  I give her a slight nod. I want her to stay.

  “Thank you again. Sorry for being late.”

  “Don’t let it happen again.”

  She nods and hurries out the door, leaving me with a raging hard on and a certainty I’m going to be thinking about her naked a whole hell of a lot more than I should be.

  As the mental image of her on her knees under the table between my legs pops up, I sit down in my chair. Squeezing my eyes closed, I unzip my pants, pull out my cock and groan.

  Fuck, this is going to be a disaster.

  3

  Holly

  I hurry from the conference room, my heart thumping way too fast in my chest. My new boss is freaking hot as fuck. Oh, my gosh. He’s tall dark and handsome with the lightest blue eyes and darkest eyelashes I’ve ever seen, full, sensual lips and a stare that sees right through me and demands answers I’d never give willingly.

  I exhale. Oh, my. How man, how am I going to work with this guy? He’s freaking incredible and I spent the whole interview wanting him to press those lips of his to mine.

  I place a hand over my quickly beating heart and notice Nadia eyeing me with one thin eyebrow trying to blend into her hairline.

  Embarrassment floods me and I walk up to her desk. “He’s very…intense, isn’t he?” I ask, trying to be friendly with her. She merely grunts.

  “Fill these out.” She thrusts a stack of papers at me and I take them while trying to mentally shift gears from hot and bothered to the menial grind of filling out forms.

  I take a seat and begin to read through the seemingly endless paperwork. Correction, I try to read through it all. But his blue eyes keep meeting mine in mind’s eye and I have to reread the top of the first page four times before I even realize it has the wrong name on it. I am not Miss Caroline Evans.

  Damn it. I was so distracted by his looks I never even gave him my name. I never introduced myself, I never did any of the necessary things to do in an interview. Not only that, I’m in the wrong place. I am supposed to be applying for a job at Ridgeco. A whole different company. Who the heck is PF Holdings? And what job did I just get hired to do? Can I even do it?

  I glance at the conference room door. Do I go tell him that everything he read on my resume was wrong? That he thinks he just hired someone else? That’s the right thing to do. The sane thing to do. I should march in there and tell him that wires got crossed and something went wrong and I shouldn’t even be here.

  Dang it. I’m not going to just barge in there and bother him. With a glance at Nadia, I decide to just explain everything to her. I stand up and make my way to her desk while she clickity-clacks away at her computer. She ignores me for a moment, then her fingers go still on the keys and she glances up at me without moving her head.

  “So, uh, funny thing,” I say with a nervous laugh. “My name isn’t Caroline Evans.”

  Nadia rolls her eyes. Without missing a beat she reaches out and grabs the papers from my hand. Stunned and speechless, I just let it go and she plucks a black pen out of the pen holder on her desk and crosses out the name Caroline Evans with one single, harsh black line before sliding the paper back my direction.

  With that, she goes back to typing and ignores me.

  I want to tell her that it’s not just the name. This whole set of paperwork is wrong. I’m in the wrong place, and they think they hired someone else, but she’s so deep in what she’s doing it’s like she’s no longer aware that I exist. Unsure what to do next, I move back to the chairs and drop into one, trying to figure out the best way to handle this whole mix up.

  Should I tell him? Just go knock on the door until he calls me in and hope I don’t make him mad by being so rude?

  I glance at the conference room door, imagining him on the other side. The thought of approaching the door, of facing him again one on one like that sends a shiver of excitement tickling down my back. I can imagine him kissing me, then lowering me onto the desk before…

  I lick my lips and try to ignore the liquid heat racing through my body and the sudden sting in my cheeks.

  As I sit there confused and considerably more turned on than I should be, I notice another woman walk in. She smiles at me, her perfect white teeth and beautifully twisted and pinned jet black hair adding to her super-model air. Stunningly green eyes with dark liner and impossibly long eyelashes draw my attention and I stare at her. She’s freaking beautiful.

  Nadia glares up at her and gestures her to the conference room I’d just been in with the man who’d hired me. I ruffle through the papers, trying to pretend I’m doing something while accomplishing nothing.

  What am I going to do?

  And why am I bothered that the beautiful woman is in there alone with the guy that just hired me? Who cares what they’re doing in there right now? Who cares if she’s the kind of pretty I imagine a guy like him being with? It’s none of my business. So why is it so hard for me to breathe?

  As I flip through the pages, I notice the pay grade and gasp at the number. Surely that’s a decimal, not a comma. But as I stare at it, willing it to make more sense, I realize I’m not misunderstanding. This job pays four times what I was offered at the place I’m supposed to be interviewing at today.

  Happy accident? Good luck? Maybe really bad luck?

  If I can keep this job, I’ll be able to keep my townhouse, pay my bills and have some left over. And, I mean, he did hire me. So the job is mine. A gentleman’s agreement, I think it’s called. With a deep breath and an internal you got this, I stood up and made my way to Nadia.

  “There are a few issues on here,” I said, “Can I get a blank form instead? It just seems easier.”

  Without looking at me, she thrust a blank new hire form at me and I take it with thanks and begin to fill it out. When I’m finished, I open it to the last page and jot down a note to my new boss.

  Thank you for not wasting my time. I’ll be sure to be more reserved and professional in the future. As for being late, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’m glad to be part of the team and excited to get to work.

  I want to remind him who I am, I want him to remember that I’m a good fit for the job and that he did give me the job. That way when he realizes the error—if he does realize it—he doesn’t decide to kick me to the curb.

  I need this job. Without it, I’ll be out on my butt next month. And while I was embarrassed, I’d blurted that out to him, now I’m glad I did. Because he knows how important it is to me to keep this job. He knows I’ll do anything, because I’m desperate. He’ a smart man. He knows I’ll work harder than someone who’s not fighting for their life.

  As I finish up the paperwork, the woman with the jet black hair and stunning green eyes walks out of the conference room. Her incredible green eyes are bright with tears and she storms off without looking at me or Nadia again.

  Nadia chuckles and I stare from her to the door closing behind the woman. What the heck just happened here? Why is Nadia laughing? Why is that woman so upset? And how come he made her cry?

  Worry begins to dig at me as red flags pop up in my mind. I sign the form and walk it up to Nadia. She ignores me and after several moments of waiting patiently, I set it on her desk and turn to leave.

  The conference room door opens and I glance over at him and notice his tie is loosened and his hair a bit messy. And it hits me. I know why Nadia was laughing, why the woman’s eyes were glittering so brightly and why he’s suddenly disheveled-looking. Obviously, they’d been up to something.

  My stomach twists as pain bolts through my gut. Of course they were. He’s attractive, she’s attractive. It’s none of my business. Just because I want him to do unspeakab
le things to me on that conference table doesn’t mean he’s mine or anything.

  His eyes meet mine and that same stunning excitement screams through me. Yep, I want him to do things to me. I want to be the woman spread on the desk in front of him. I want him to touch me, tease me, and make me his.

  Damn! I want my boss.

  4

  Pax

  Tucking a finger into my tie like I always do at the end of a long, trying day, I loosen the knot. This hotel bar is the perfect spot to meet up with clients and the meeting I just concluded was very beneficial. I’m full of hope so I decide to stay for a celebratory drink.

  “Dirty Martini.” I nod at the bartender and she flashes me a wide smile.

  “Whatever you want, cowboy.” Her suggestive tone does nothing for me. Come to think of it, the last woman that did anything for me was Holly.

  Holly. Her beautiful body and face have been haunting my thoughts and dreams. Especially the look in her eyes when I’d opened the conference door after telling the real Miss Evans I didn’t need an unreliable employee.

  Holly had this crushed look on her face and I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been thinking all the wrong things after watching Miss Evans leave the conference room.

  Before I could say anything to her, she left her paperwork with Nadia—who was carefully ignoring us both—and bolted from the building.

  Of course I already knew she wasn’t the real Miss Evans since the real Miss Evans had just spun this huge story of how she’d blown a tire on the way here and had to call her dad to fix it for her.

  Of course, when I pointed out that she had already mentioned her dad lives back in her hometown—four hours away—and how impossible it was for anyone to make that four hour trip and still manage to get to her interview only an hour late, she got upset. Then she changed her story. Apparently, it was actually her boyfriend that helped her. I asked her why she didn’t just tell me her boyfriend helped her from the beginning. What difference does it make who helped her?

  She clammed up, crossed her arms and gave away the real reason without saying a word. She didn’t want me to know she had a boyfriend. Like I fucking care. The woman is a predator and I don’t want her on my team.

  Holly, though, I want on my team. It only took two phone calls to find out that she’d been scheduled in another building with Ridgeco. And when I found out what they wanted to pay her, I saw red. They want to rip her off and prey on the knowledge that she’s young and needs a job.

  So I put her on payroll. We’ll figure out the details later.

  The front door of the hotel suddenly bursts open and several women spill into the foyer. Their loud voices and giggles tell me everything I need to know about the party girls, but I continue watching in curiosity.

  My heart stops in my chest as I spot Holly in the mix in a little black dress that shows off her beautiful long legs and perfect ass. Fuck, she could wear a plastic garbage bag and still look good. However, the sash across her reads bachelorette and every wall I have goes up. She didn’t tell me she was in a relationship. Not that she had to or anything. I was interviewing her for a job, but it’s a new development that has me mentally taking a step back. I don’t fuck with married women.

  What are the odds that she’d show up while I’m thinking about her like my thoughts conjured her up in some shitty parlor trick? Well, considering I’ve been thinking about her almost non-stop since the interview,, the odds seem pretty fucking good. I can’t get this woman out of my head. But I need to. She’s obviously not available.

  Irritation buzzes in my gut like a dozen angry bees. I want this woman. I want to touch her, taste her, feel her body pressed against mine. Still, I’ve never broken my own rules and I don’t plan to start now.

  I take a deep drink of my Martini as the five women stumble into the bar, giggling and generally being loud party girls. The bartender catches my eye and I nod at my glass. He’s quick to give me a fresh drink and behind me, I can hear the woman still carrying on.

  “Oh my god, Mimi,” One of the clearly intoxicated girls hangs off another woman while grabbing drunkenly at the group like they can hold her up. “I can’t believe you’re getting married!”

  I have no idea how they got the nickname Mimi from Holly, but I’m not a woman, so…

  “I can’t believe you found dick straws!” Another girl pokes at her friend with said straw before waving at the bartender and shouting, “We need drinks!”

  I study Holly out of the corner of my eyes. She giggles and leans into a friend as they talk, her whole demeanor and the slight sway of her body telling me she’s had more than enough to drink. Still, she’s fucking beautiful and I really want to walk over and talk to her.

  I don’t dare. Or we’ll both wind up doing something we regret.

  Her eyes meet mine and she lights up. Before her friend can pull her back, she stands, nearly losing her footing. With a hand on the table she lifts one foot with the grace of a flamingo—albeit a bit wobbly—and pulls off her black high heel. It hangs by the strap from her finger as she takes off the other one and makes her way toward me barefoot. Her sexy sway and the absolute vulnerability of her dig at me. That sash, though, that bothers me.

  “Hey there.” She’s slurring her words in a way that’s somehow both sexy and adorable.

  “Hello.” I lift my glass toward her sash. “Should I say congratulations?”

  She glances down, her lovely blue eyes confused. There’s something so wholesome and appealing about the way her straight blond hair tumbles down around her shoulders. Her dark eye makeup brings out the blue of her eyes and her lips are naked in a way that makes my cock stir.

  “Oh! This is Miranda’s!” Her hands grab the sash.

  Mimi. Miranda. That makes more sense.

  She’s quick to slip it off and flash me a drunken grin. “She needed me to hold it while she was in the little girl’s room. I must have forgotten to give it back.” Her words slur together and I nod. That makes sense.

  “So you’re not engaged, then?” I want to be sure, because the things I want to do to her mean she has to be single.

  She doesn’t answer. Instead, she turns and waves the sash at Miranda, who walks over, a huge, sloppy smile on her face. “Thank you!” She takes the sash from Holly and pulls it on before locking her attention on me.

  “Oh, you’re handsome.” Her eyes flick to her friend. “Do you know him?”

  “He’s my new boss.”

  Her friend’s mouth drops open. “The super-hot one you were telling us about?”

  A grin crosses my lips as I watch Holly’s mouth drop open and Miranda’s look of horror as she presses her hand to her lips. “Good luck!” She tells her friend before sailing off back to her crowd of admirers as the bartender patiently takes orders from the group.

  “Are you staying here tonight?” I don’t like how I feel about her safety and wellbeing. I’m not a stone cold asshole, but I’ve never had a problem putting a drunk woman in the back of an Uber and sending her home. Somehow, that doesn’t feel right in this situation.

  She shakes her head. “Nope! I’m going to stay out all night with Miranda. She’s getting married!” She sits down next to me and I feel the same bartender that was hitting on me glaring holes in me.

  She leans in close to me and lowers her voice to a suggestive hum that makes every muscle in my body tighten with lust. “But to be honest, I’d rather spend the night with you.”

  What the fuck can I say to that?

  She licks her lips, her wide blue eyes locked on me. “In the interview, all I could think about was you doing things to me on the conference room table.”

  My cock pulses painfully. I clear my throat, trying not to give away how hard I am right now. “Oh yeah? What kind of things?”

  Her expression fills with heat and her cheek go pink as she licks her lips again. I want to lean in and kiss her, but I’m also really curious what she’s about to say.

  Her voice low
ers to a whisper and her words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. “I wanted your mouth on me. I still want your mouth on me.”

  5

  Holly

  I wanted your mouth on me. I still want your mouth on me.

  Did I really just say that to my new boss?

  And I told him I want to spend the night with him!

  I blame the alcohol. And my thumping heart and swollen clit. The alcohol is just making it easier to say what’s on my mind even if the things on my mind shouldn’t be said out loud ever.

  His eyes narrow and my heart pounds double time in my chest. I inhale, not sure what I should say next. It doesn’t help that he’s just so damn yummy looking with his dark suit, navy button down and slim black tie that’s a bit loose on his neck.

  What would that tie feel like around my wrists? Or around my eyes while his breath tickles the skin between my thighs?

  I shiver at the thought and his gaze searches my face. With him locked on to me like this, I feel like a mouse caught in a snake’s line of sight before it strikes. Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to come over here? He’s freaking hot as can be and I’m teetering on the edge of drunk.

  And I’m supposed to be here for my friend. I glance over and see Miranda taking shots while our friends cheer her on. I can’t believe she’s going to be married the day after tomorrow and I’m still single. Of course, her fiancé Doug is a great guy and they’re as happy in love as a couple can be. So why does that make me sad? Maybe because I’m alone?

  “Do you want to rejoin your friends?”

  I glance at my boss, aware that I don’t even know his name. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know mine, unless he’s gone over my paperwork. I shift uncomfortably. I know that little stunt is going to come back and bite me on the backside, but when will that happen? Not knowing is the really stressful part.