Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Taking Charge
Like a Boss: 1
by Serenity Woods
*
Copyright 2017 Serenity Woods
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter One
Sebastian
“Elenora!” I wait ten seconds, then yell again, louder this time. “Elenora!”
After a brief interlude, my baby sister appears in the doorway to my office with her hands on her hips and a furious glare. “Will you stop shouting? I can hear you all the way down the corridor.”
“That was the plan.” I bang my coffee mug on the desk. “Where the hell is today’s temp? It’s eight thirty, for Christ’s sake. I’m usually on my third cup by now.”
My last PA was inconsiderate enough to let her husband get her pregnant, and the secretary that HR has hired to cover her maternity leave can’t start for another five days, so at the moment I’m stuck with temps. It doesn’t improve my mood, which is never good anyway on a Monday morning, especially when I haven’t had sex over the weekend.
Elen purses her lips, and I’m sure her lips curve up a little at the corners. “Are you telling me you still don’t know how to work the coffee machine?”
“I’m a busy man,” I snap. “I don’t have time for insignificant details. Will you make me a coffee?”
“Absolutely not. The temp won’t be long. She’s stuck in the elevator.”
My eyebrows rise. “How did she manage that?”
“I’ve no idea, but maintenance is working on it, and she’ll be here any moment to satisfy your every whim. Except that one,” she adds at my wry smile. “You remember our rule about not banging the temps, right?”
“Your rule,” I remind her.
“You need to start dating again.”
I run my hand through my hair. I’m not in the mood for being teased this morning. “Elen…”
She rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re so frickin’ choosy with both secretaries and girlfriends. How long ago did you split up with Rachel? The sooner you get laid, the better all our lives are going to be.”
“Get out of my office!” I bellow.
Laughing, she leaves, only to stop a few feet from the door. I hear her greet someone—the new temp, by the sounds of it. I’m not in the mood for some dorky eighteen-year-old who can’t find her way out of an elevator. I throw myself in my chair and glare at the door as Elen reappears with her.
“Seb,” Elen says, “this is Colette. Please be nice to her. Colette, meet Sebastian Wright. You have the questionable honor of being at his beck and call for the week. Don’t mind him—his bark is worse than his bite.”
I turn my glare to the young woman who approaches my desk, and, for a moment, I can’t breathe.
She’s tallish for a girl, curvy, and wearing a smart, dark-gray suit. The skirt is a respectable inch above her knees, and the white blouse has the top few buttons undone, giving a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin leading down to what I’m sure will be even paler breasts. For once, though, I’m captivated by the view farther up. Her hair is blonde, pinned in what I guess is supposed to be a presentable style, but wayward strands tumble around her face in a way that makes me imagine her walking around my apartment in the early morning sunshine wearing only my shirt. She’s girl-next-door pretty, with freckles across her nose and a wide, full mouth. But it’s her eyes that hold me, the brightest blue I’ve ever seen on a real person, full of an audacious amusement that tells me she’s going to be trouble.
For fuck’s sake. This I don’t need.
Attack’s the best form of defense, right?
“You’re late.” I lean back in my chair and try to ignore my pounding heart.
“Got stuck in the elevator,” she replies, not intimidated at all by my glare. “Technology hates me. Although that’s probably not something I should tell my employer on my first day.” She winks.
Elen laughs. “I’ll get Mrs. Stubbs,” she says, referring to the head secretary. “She’ll show you your desk and run through the basics with you.” She vacates the room, leaving me alone with the sassy blonde.
We eye each other for a moment. I’m not quite sure how to handle her. Usually, a glare from me is enough to send a new secretary scurrying from the room with her tail between her shapely legs. I have a reputation among the secretarial staff as being critical and demanding. It’s taken me years to cultivate that, and I’m not used to being challenged.
“Was that you yelling?” she asks.
“I haven’t had a coffee yet,” I tell her by way of explanation, showing her my empty cup.
“Lost the use of your legs?” she enquires.
I get slowly to my feet. “Miss…”
She bites her bottom lip for a moment, then admits, “Watson.”
“Miss Watson, you’ve walked in late on your first day in a new job. Do you really think smart-mouthing one of the directors is the best way to begin your working day?”
She eyes me thoughtfully, and I can see her thinking about how to reply. She’s intelligent, this one—this is no naive school-leaver I can control by sheer force of personality.
“Sorry,” she says eventually. “My last boss was pretty informal, but I can see you like to work with a bit more… discipline.”
That just conjures up the idea of putting her over my knee. I narrow my eyes. Is she being purposefully impertinent? I get the feeling she’s trying not to laugh.
“What do you prefer?” she asks softly. “Seb or Sebastian?”
“Mr. Wright will do just fine.”
“Sure thing.” She wrinkles her nose at me. “How about I get you a coffee, and we start over?”
She approaches and reaches across my desk for my mug. I top her by about six inches and have to fight not to look down her blouse as she bends for
ward. The last thing I need is this minx suing me for sexual harassment.
She straightens and looks up, and I experience the strange sensation of time slowing to halt.
I hold her gaze for a long, long time.
To my pleasure, in contrast with her impudent behavior, the apples of her cheeks stain a pretty pink. Not quite as sassy as she makes out, then.
Chapter Two
Colette
Holding Sebastian’s mug, I lower my gaze, turn on my heel, and leave the room as elegantly as I can. His eyes burn into my butt like lasers all the way to the door.
Only when I’m out of his line of sight do I exhale, and my breath leaves me in a whoosh. To my shock, my hands are shaking.
I’ve heard all about the inimitable Mr. Wright. “He can make you cower with just a glance,” one of the younger temps at the agency informed me with a shudder.
“He’s gorgeous,” another mumbled, “but he made me cry when he shouted. I’m not going back there.”
I was determined I wasn’t going to be as spineless as that. But nothing had prepared me for my first sight of Sebastian Wright.
Jeez, the guy’s tall. I’m not short, but he towers over me even in my heels—he must be six-three or four, with wide shoulders and a broad chest, not one of those lanky, skinny dudes who grew too quick as a teen. His hands are like dinner plates. He’s just… big. Can’t help but wonder if he’s big all over…
His navy suit is so sharp you could slice ham on it. He has thick dark hair you could sink your fingers into. And I can see why his deep, gravelly voice and half-lidded eyes with their baleful glare would make a lesser woman cower.
They didn’t make me cower. They made me burn.
I’ve dated my share of men. Some wanted to serenade me, some to make love to me, and others just wanted to bend me over a chair and take their pleasure.
I’ve never met one who made me feel as if he wanted to do all three.
Jesus, I tell myself, get a grip. I got stuck in the elevator and then smart-mouthed him in his own office. He probably thinks I’m a total pain in the ass, and he hasn’t even gotten to know me yet.
But the thing is, you know when a man looks at you like that, don’t you? Like he’s already imagining you naked? Like he can’t wait to drop to his knees and find out what you taste like?
“Miss Watson?” An older woman with salt-and-pepper hair approaches. She looks harassed. “I’m Mrs. Stubbs, the head secretary. You’re late.”
“Sorry. The elevator got stuck.” I don’t add that when I pushed the button, the control panel fell off. I’m sure I didn’t push it that hard.
“Well, there’s a heap of work to do, and I don’t have all day to spend with you.” She directs me to a desk in the corner, not far from Sebastian’s door. “This is where you’ll sit.”
I take my place behind the desk and press the lever to lift the chair. It comes off in my hand.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. I don’t have time for this.” She takes it and throws it in the trash. “Can you use a digital dictation machine?”
“Of course.”
“That’s how Mr. Wright will give you most of your work. If you turn on your computer, I’ll show you where the files are saved.”
I press the On button. The tower sparks, fizzes, and then a small trail of smoke drifts up to the ceiling.
Mrs. Stubbs stares at me. My lips twist in an apologetic smile.
“Why don’t I make us all a nice cup of coffee,” I say brightly, getting up from my too-low chair.
“I’ll ring maintenance,” she mumbles.
Deciding that I owe them a beer for having to call them twice in the space of about ten minutes, I sigh and head off to the coffee machine.
While I take the coffee capsules out of the box and start preparing the mugs, I glance around the office, my pulse picking up its pace at the realization that I made it. I’m here! I’ve been trying to get a position at Hearktech for months, without any luck. Then I found out that Sebastian Wright’s PA had left to be a full-time mom. I don’t have the qualifications to get her job, but when I heard he was hiring temps to cover the post until he found someone for the position, I wasted no time in heading straight for the recruitment office.
Let me be frank—I’m a crap secretary. My typing speed is slower than a snail on Valium, I’ve never even seen a dictation machine, I sometimes get my alphabet muddled up, and I’m so disorganized that I don’t have a single pair of socks in my drawer at home that match.
What I do have is an ability to talk anyone into anything I want. Which is how I got the temp job despite being spectacularly under-qualified.
Now I’m here, I just have to find out a way to learn about the trial.
I’ve done my research. Hearktech develops and makes specialized telecommunications equipment. The firm started out with four people—Sebastian, his sister, Elenora, and two of his college friends, Harrison and Caleb. Now they run an international company selling their devices all over the world. Mostly they make mobile phones and tablets, but their latest specialty is devices for hearing-impaired people. Like my brother.
I still haven’t told Liam I’m working here. He’d be cross with me for trying to get him onto the trial for Hearktech’s new ALD—Assistive Listening Device—with its innovative direct audio input that would make a world of difference to his ability to interact with the world. He applied for a place on the trial but wasn’t chosen, and now he’s being all noble and saying that it obviously wasn’t meant to be, and there are other people who are as deserving—if not more so—than he, and he’ll just have to wait the year or whatever it takes for the device to come on the market.
Well, fuck that. I don’t know anyone who deserves a break more than my beautiful baby brother, and I’m going to do everything I can to help him, including accessing the details for the trial, and adding his name to the list.
Mind you, I didn’t factor in an alarming attraction to the boss, or a need to smart-mouth him that is probably going to get me evicted in record time. Less of the sass, Collie, I tell myself, and more of the charm. Then maybe he’ll help you with Liam and you won’t even have to turn to surreptitious methods.
I need to use every womanly talent I possess to win him over. I’m going to be sophisticated and in control.
Then I press the button on the coffee machine, and the whole thing explodes.
Chapter Three
Sebastian
A loud bang emits from outside my office, followed by a squeal and a chorus of shocked expletives. I get to my feet and stride to the door, and find the new temp standing in front of a coffee machine that looks as if someone has taken a hammer to it. There’s liquid coffee everywhere, and a variety of mechanical parts lie scattered across the floor.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she snaps.
I lean against the doorpost and slide my hands into my pockets as I watch her start to clean up the mess.
Next to me, Mrs. Stubbs folds her arms. “She also broke the chair and blew up the computer,” she advises me.
“I told you, technology hates me.” Colette mops furiously at the spill on the bench. “Fucking thing.”
I give a short, silent laugh. If she were anyone else, I’d have told her to pick up her purse and head for the door, and I can see Mrs. Stubbs waiting for me to do just that.
But Colette toes off her high heels, and in her stockinged feet she lowers onto her knees to pick up the pieces of plastic that have fallen onto the carpet. Her pencil skirt rides up a little, revealing toned thighs and a glimpse of lace—she’s wearing thigh highs, not pantyhose.
Now I have a hard-on, and, conscious of the office staff bustling around to help her, I pick up a folder from a nearby table to hold in front of my groin. What the fuck’s wrong with me? I’m not sixteen anymore—nowadays it normally takes more than a flash of a girl’s thigh to fire me up. I seriously need to get laid.
Mrs. Stubbs raises an eyebrow, although I’m not sure if it’s a sile
nt comment on my attempt to hide the hard-on, or a question as to whether I want to do something about the new temp. I cast one last glance at the blonde on the floor, noting the way her blouse stretches across her breasts as she reaches across the carpet for an errant piece of plastic. Then I look at Mrs. Stubbs.
“Sort her out,” I tell her. “See if you can find something she can do that doesn’t involve machinery.” And I turn and head back to my office.
*
For the next few hours, I throw myself into phone calls, emails, and finishing off a presentation for the new Assistive Listening Device that I’m going to be giving to those people taking the trial next week. Caught up in the intricacies of explaining the complicated technology without making the audience’s eyes glaze over, it’s not until 11:05 a.m. that I remember I’m supposed to be practicing the presentation on the other company directors.
I head out of my office toward the boardroom, passing Colette Watson, who’s sitting at her desk, typing a letter on a laptop that IT must have lent her after she blew up the PC. I slow as I pass. Mrs. Stubbs has a typing speed of around ninety words a minute, and my old PA was a good eighty.
Colette can’t be typing any faster than thirty words a minute. And she’s only using two fingers.
It should irritate me. I should get straight onto the recruitment agency and demand to know what they’re doing sending me a temp who can’t type and who has a personal vendetta against anything electronic.
For some reason, though, I’m not irritated. I’m not used to that.
She looks up, sees me staring, and says, “What?”
I shake my head. “I’ve a meeting in the boardroom.”
“Want me to make coffee?”
“Absolutely not.”
She grins, and I give her a wry smile. I wonder how she talked the agency into taking her on. Maybe she’s studied hypnosis. Nothing would surprise me at the moment.
Her phone rings, and she picks up the receiver, keeping eye contact with me and fluttering her eyelashes as she says in a fake-sweet voice, “Mr. Wright’s office. How can I help you today?” Her eyes dance as she listens, then she informs me, “Elenora wants me to tell you to get your ass to the boardroom right now.”
Taking Charge (Like a Boss Book 1) Page 1