Her Billionaire Bosses: A Menage Romance

by Samantha Twinn

  “Do you have anyone with experience in Asian Markets?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll have Asher pull together a team.” Although our company is fairly tight knit, Asher does most of the hiring. He will be able to find the right people to do the audit.

  Now that the pressing business has been taken care of, I still have the other matter to address. “The cease and desist letter didn’t work. Larry Reid is calling the office again. He’s starting to spook the staff.”

  “I’ll work on a restraining order tomorrow. But at this point, I’d advise you to file a harassment suit.”

  “Yes on the restraining order, but I’m not sure about suing for harassment. The worst thing he’s done is call and send letters.” I open my desk drawer and pull out the latest. Mostly unintelligible ramblings where he blames us for stealing his company and taking away everything he’s ever cared about. There are some vague threats, but nothing solid. “I’m sure after you file a restraining order, this will fizzle out in a few months.”

  “It’s possible,” Roger says. “But it might also escalate. Just think about it. You can always drop the suit later, but it does send a clear message. People tend to take notice when you target their pocketbook.”

  “Alright. If you think it will help, go ahead. I don’t have time to deal with that nut job right now.”

  “I’ll draft a proposal and have it over to you by the end of the week.”

  “Thanks, Roger. I’ll let you know if we need anything else from Takei after I talk with Asher.”

  After hanging up the phone, I make my way down to Asher’s office. It’s past nine and the office is dark; the cleaning crew is the only sign of activity. That’s probably why the light coming from the corner cubicle catches my eye.

  Our employees are hard workers, but nine on a Friday is a little unusual, even for them. I make a detour and am surprised to see the pretty raven haired girl from the hallway incident hunched over her laptop with stacks of paper covering every surface of her desk.

  Rose. Rose who eavesdrops and likes to read dirty books on her lunch break. I clear my throat, and she nearly falls out of her chair.

  “Oh, my God. You scared the crap out of me,” she says, clutching her chest with one hand. “I didn’t think anyone was still here.”

  “Neither did I,” I say with a chuckle. “Which is why I came over to check. Surely Asher isn’t so much of a slave driver that he’s keeping you here late on a Friday night.”

  Her cheeks turn a pretty pink, and she lowers her gaze. “I don’t think Asher even knows I work here,” she says and then shakes her head. “I’m just trying to finish up some things that needed to be reviewed by Monday. Chad was out all week with the flu, and another intern quit this week. No one else has time to pick up the extra work.”

  I frown, not happy to hear her reasoning. “Isn’t that what I pay Marcus for? He’s your supervisor. If he’s not staying to pick up the extra work, he shouldn’t make you stay late on a Friday night. Go home. I’ll talk to him on Monday.”

  “No!” Rose jumps out of her seat and comes at me, grabbing my arm like a desperate woman. “Don’t get mad at Marcus. I asked for the extra work. I don’t mind staying late.”

  “Fine. I won’t rip him a new one,” I say. “Just go home. It’s late.”

  Visibly relieved, she lets go of my arm. “I was pretty much finished,” she says and gathers her things.

  I notice that she’s not wearing a ring, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have someone waiting at home. “I’m sure your boyfriend will thank me for making you go home.”

  “No boyfriend,” she says, slinging a large bag over her shoulder. “But I’ll be able to stop at the Chinese place before it closes. Have a nice weekend.”

  Strange. Rose was pretty, in an innocent Midwest farm girl kind of way. But she’s also curvy and soft in the ways a woman should be. She is the kind of woman men snatch up as wives. So the fact that she is here, alone, on a Friday night, instead of out on a date, seems almost unnatural.

  “Have a nice weekend,” I say and watch as she disappears into the maze of cubicles. A small part of me wants to follow her and learn all of her secrets. But despite her taste in reading, she’s not the kind of woman who’d be up for what I have to offer.

  Sighing, I make my way to Asher’s office. I push open the door and look around, but he isn’t at his desk. His coat is tossed over his chair, so I knew he can’t be far. My mind is still full of questions about the enticing Rose; I flop onto the sofa and kick up my feet.

  “Come on, Asher,” I yell at the top of my lungs. “I don’t want to spend all fucking night at the office. We have some things to talk about. And after that, I need a drink.”

  Asher strolls out of the adjoining room and shakes his head. “I thought you were going home early.”

  “That was the plan, but time just slipped away from me,” I say.

  “And that my friend is why you need a distraction. Preferably one with nice curves.”

  My thoughts immediately flash back to Rose and that round ass of hers. God. That is a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen. I need to nip that line of thought in the bud. One of the rules Asher and I agreed to years ago was that we wouldn’t dip our pens in the company ink. Employees are strictly off limits. I shake off thoughts of Rose and change the subject.

  “We need to decide how we’re going to handle the Takei buyout. Roger suggests we do another audit with someone who has experience with Asian Markets. Do you have anyone on your team?”

  Asher drums his fingers on his desk, one of his tells. This buyout has been stressing him. All the more reason to deal with it now, instead of later.

  “I hired someone last year who work clerked with Global Financial in their Far East division. I’ll reassign him on Monday,” he says and grabs his jacket. “For now, let’s hit the club. I could use a drink too.”

  3

  Asher

  Primrose Morningstar.

  That name sounds like it belongs to a hippy handing out flowers at some new age convention, not an expert in foreign currency. I hardly remember approving her internship. But after reading her resume, I recall why I did. Her experience with Eastern financial markets stood out among the hundreds I get every month. She is perfect—on paper. But she’s been on my team for almost ten months, and I don’t remember having one conversation with her. If it wasn’t for the fact that I personally hire everyone on the accounting team, even the interns, I might not even recognize her.

  I stare at her employee record, trying to remember anything about the woman other than her resume. I vaguely remember seeing her around the office. But the photo in her chart doesn’t do her justice. Her long dark hair is pulled back in a severe bun making her look older than her twenty-four. She’s cute, but not breathtakingly beautiful. Some men might even consider her quite plain, but there is something in those big dark eyes that speaks of a depth not everyone possesses. I can usually read people right away. It’s one of the things that’s made me so successful in acquisitions. And beneath that dowdy facade is a woman with secrets.

  Why has she slipped my notice for so long?

  I glance over her education. She holds dual MSc in finance and international business, graduating top of her class. Her references are glowing. She even speaks fluent Mandarin. I tab over to payroll and see she averages over fifty plus hours a week. Never missed a day. Her performance reviews have top marks. The internship is far below her potential. By all accounts, she should have been promoted to my consulting team months ago.

  I go back to her profile and continue to read through the background check. Before any staff joins the team, I have them checked out by a private security firm—from the janitor to the sales department—no one is exempt. Primrose’s report is straightforward. She was homeschooled. Started college at seventeen. Her mother is some minor celebrity, but Primrose stayed out of the public eye.

  By all accounts, she is rather boring. She is single, live
s alone, and has no pets. She isn’t dating. The last boyfriend she had was over two years ago. Billy is a librarian. They’d been living together for almost a year. And while it looked like a serious relationship, she’d applied for the internship and left Boston and the boyfriend without looking back

  I click on Billy’s name and find myself on Facebook. After scrolling through a month’s worth of photographs of his food, I close the browser. If that’s what Primrose had to look forward to while dating Billy, no wonder she left.

  I scowl, looking at her photo again. I’m not sure what exactly it is, but I recognize something in her. I scroll to the bottom of the report. The last update from the security firm was a few months ago. She was still single and no social life to speak of since taking the internship.

  I grab the phone and dial Marcus’s extension.

  “Hey, boss. What can I do for you?” Marcus asks.

  “I need Primrose reassigned to my office for a couple of weeks. Maybe a month,” I say.

  “Rose Morningstar?” Marcus says. There’s something in his voice that catches my attention.

  “Yes. Is that a problem?” I ask.

  “No. I was actually wondering when I was going to get this call,” Marcus says resigned. “She’s my best intern. I swear that woman does the work of three people. I’ll be sorry to lose her.”

  “If she’s such a good employee, why haven’t you put her in for a spot on one of my acquisition teams?” I ask. My curiosity about this woman is growing by the second.

  “I have. Every month for the past five months. I figured you didn’t have a spot open or you would have snatched her up.”

  I don’t, but if Marcus really thought she deserved a chance, I would have made room for her. I page through his monthly updates, and there it is in black and white. Marcus really had put her name in for a promotion. Not only that, several of the audits with accounting flags had her initials attached. She’s picked up on things even my teams have missed. I try to remember why I passed her up, but nothing comes to mind. How has she flown under the radar for so long?

  “Have her come up to my office right away.”

  “Sure thing,” Marcus says without arguing.

  I pull people in for special projects from time to time, so there is nothing unusual about my request. Her expertise in international business would be helpful. And it has the bonus of letting me get to see how she works. If she’s as good as Marcus implied, she’s exactly who I need helping me on this.

  I go back to my emails, feeling better already. I am halfway through the list when a soft knock sounds at my door.

  “Come in,” I say. Leaning back in my chair, I wait, anxious to get a closer look at the woman who occupied my thoughts all afternoon.

  Her eyes are down as she steps in like a naughty schoolgirl arriving at the principal’s office. Now that’s a little scene I can see playing out.

  “Marcus said you had a project for me,” Rose says to her feet.

  “Yes. Come sit down,” I say, gesturing to the sofa. “I was just going over your file. I’m in need of someone with your expertise.”

  Rose’s eyes snap up to me mine, surprise written all over her expression. “My expertise?”

  “Yes. Asian Markets. That is your specialty, right? Have you stayed current on the evolving trade laws with China?”

  “Asian Markets?” she repeats. “I thought you were going to let me go. I mean...umh, yes. I studied international business and minored in Mandarin, but I speak it fluently. I clerked at Global—”

  I hold up my hand to stop her. I know all that from her resume. And I’m more interested in that first comment. Why did you think I was going to fire you?”

  “I was hired for a six-month internship. That was ten months ago. Marcus kept saying you’d offer me a job, but…” She pauses and looks up, meeting my gaze. There’s steel in those big brown eyes of hers. “But that wasn’t what you were asking. I’ve kept up with all the recent changes, legal and social. So if you need me to work on something, I’m more than happy to.”

  “Good,” I say with a smile, glad to see some spunk out of her. “We’ve put in a bid on Takei Freight. They have a big footprint in China, and I could use someone with your experience. I’m going to need you to stop whatever you're working on and move up here. I need your complete focus this for the next few weeks. Maybe even the next month.”

  “I’m in the middle of an audit,” Those big eyes blink back at me. She shakes her head as if she is trying to dislodge a thought. “I can’t leave Marcus hanging like that. I don’t think it’s necessary for me to stop working on my other project.”

  “Well, I do. We’re going to need a quick turnaround on this, and I’m going to be asking a lot of you.”

  “You’ve never worked with me before,” she says, standing her ground. “I don’t shy away from hard work, and I’m willing to put in extra time if I have to.”

  She has backbone, I’ll give her that. It isn’t much, but it does show me there is more to this woman than just a keen mind and workhorse mentality.

  “Are you the intern that audited the Orion account?” I ask. Still frowning, Rose nods. “So you’re the one who flagged the external account that the bookkeeper had been skimming money into?”

  “Yes,” she says almost cautiously. “Once I broke out the payables by month, it was pretty obvious that they weren’t normal business expenses.”

  “Not that obvious. I missed it,” I admit. “That’s why I want you to help me audit the Takei accounts.”

  Rose shifts on the balls of her feet. And honestly, I think she might refuse me. “I’m almost finished with the Brooker account. I should be done by the end of next week. But if you want me to start on the Takei accounts, I can handle more than one thing at a time.” As if realizing how I might interpret her words, her cheeks turned bright red. “God, I mean—”

  “See if you can finish up the Brooker account by tonight,” I say with a chuckle. “If not, pass it on to Marcus. I’m going to need your full attention starting tomorrow.”

  4

  Rose

  Ten months ago, I turned down several high paying jobs and moved halfway across the country for an internship. Billy—my then boyfriend—thought I’d lost my mind. But working for Lash Equity, working for Asher Knight, has been my dream job since college. I would have taken a job in the mailroom just to get my foot in the door.

  My junior year in college, Forbes did an in-depth profile on Lash Equity. I kept that article. And every time I felt anxious or stressed about school or life in general, I’d read about the two men who started finance company from nothing and made billions. While my goals weren’t as lofty, their story gave me hope.

  And now, here I am working for them. Not just working for them, but working directly with Asher Knight.

  When Asher asked me to work on the Takei account, I thought I would be one of a team accountants. But that team ended up being just Asher and myself. We have worked non-stop for the last two weeks. Nights and weekends. I’m practically living at the office right now. But I wouldn’t give up this opportunity for the world.

  We work well together. There are times we spend hours talking out a problem and other times when he doesn’t have to say a word because I’m already a step ahead.

  But when we aren’t working, things get awkward. As closed off and private as Asher may be, he enjoys quizzing me about my personal life. And of course, I become a bumbling idiot; as if I’ve never been around men.

  I’m not a virgin—far from it. It’s just, I’m not used to spending so much time around a man like Asher who’s so comfortable in his own skin. Someone who’s comfortable with their own sexuality and isn’t afraid to show it.

  I didn’t exactly have a normal upbringing. My mother didn’t let a little thing like a baby stop her from touring around the country with her band. I grew up with roadies and band members as playmates. I never had friends my age, and as I matured, I learned it was better not to draw a
ttention to myself. The attention I drew as a teen wasn’t the friendly type. A rock tour is no place for a teen girl to cut her teeth. I did a lot of things I regret and ultimately withdrew into myself, for the sake of my own survival.

  But my awkwardness only encourages Asher to press and tease. I’m trying to keep things a professional as possible. It’s hard to do when we spend so much time alone. It’s been hard on my libido. I’m not dead. I can appreciate a fine looking man, and Asher Knight is a wet dream in the flesh. Sometimes, when he’s not looking, I just watch him move. It’s like poetry in motion. If this project goes on much longer, I’m going to have to buy a new vibrator.

  So when I walk into the office on Saturday morning and find it empty, I get nervous. I’m not emotionally prepared to spend the day alone with Asher. But there’s not a single soul in the office. Not even the janitorial staff is around.

  “Hello?” I call out. “Is anyone here?”

  This isn’t good. When the office is busy, Asher’s attention is always pulled away to phone calls and other office business. But the eerie silence assures me there would be no distractions today.

  On the door to his office, I find a note:

  Be back soon. Get started without me. -A

  I push the door open, and head to my temporary desk in the corner determined to get as much work as I can finished before he gets back. Maybe if I finish up early, I can leave. I don’t know why the thought of being alone with the man makes me nervous. I’m halfway through my final pass of the company's receivables when Asher strolls in.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” he says, still slightly winded. “I thought I’d work in a quick run before we got started.”