Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance)

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Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) Page 33

by Adams,Claire


  "Thank you, Honey," I said before turning toward the door, and I'll be damned if the woman didn't smack my ass and laugh.

  #

  I arrived at the job site just as the crew was starting to pull their tools and materials together. I waved down the foreman and asked if I could meet with the crew before they headed off to their individual assignments.

  "Austin Marks," I said as I offered my hand.

  "Good to meet you, Mr. Marks. Buck Tucker," he said. Buck was a tall man with a white-blond crew cut and skin like tanned leather. He hadn't been the first choice as foreman when we'd hired him for the job, but after the original foreman wound up in ICU after having heart attack during the first week, we'd tapped Buck as his successor. He'd been working construction for over thirty years, and there wasn't much he hadn't seen – or done – in that time.

  Buck nodded and then put two fingers in his mouth and loudly whistled at his assistant. The younger man nodded and went to gather the guys.

  "What's the main problem, Mr. Tucker?" I asked, fairly sure I'd hear the answer I already knew was coming.

  "The men are up in arms about the fact that they think they're going to lose their jobs, Mr. Marks," Buck replied. "There's been a good deal of talk about replacing them with an American crew who will work for less money and not be beholden to the rules and regulations set forth in the Fair Work Act."

  "Any idea where this information is coming from?" I asked.

  "Not a clue," he said as he shook his head. "Though, there's something telling me that it's a plant."

  "What makes you say that, Mr. Tucker?"

  "Well, I've been in this business for a long time, and I know the difference between a furphy with teeth and one that's nothing but gums," he scoffed.

  "Do you think the crew will identify where they hear the rumor?" I asked.

  "Buckley's chance," he said. "These are working men, Mr. Marks. They've got families to feed and they need to make a quid."

  "I understand," I nodded.

  "Do you now?" he smiled. I stared back at him feeling like he was issuing a challenge I knew nothing about.

  "Actually, I do, Mr. Tucker," I said evenly. I wasn't going to challenge him, but I also wasn't going to back down. I knew from growing up in Brooklyn that there was a difference between being the boss and having the respect of the crew. I was the former, but didn't yet have the latter – and Tucker knew it.

  "Well, then, give it a burl and see what the boys say," he said, still smiling.

  I nodded and stepped forward to address the crowd of men standing in front of me holding coffee cups and wearing bright yellow helmets.

  "Gentlemen, I'm Austin Marks, CEO of Marks Enterprises, and I'm here to address your concerns about the rumors that have been flying on this site," I began. I raised my voice to make sure that even the guys in the back could hear me. "I want to assure you that we are not – I repeat, not – bringing in replacement crews from the States or anywhere else, for that matter. Whoever started the rumor has knowingly passed along false information and isn't affiliated with Marks Enterprises."

  A murmur ran through the crowd as I spoke. One of the guys in back yelled, "Pig's arse! You come in here spouting your corporate line and expect us to buy it? Rack off!"

  "Boys," Tucker warned with a look and the guys settled down for a moment.

  "Look, I know you're skeptical and you have every reason to be," I said. "But I swear we are not going to import any new work crews, and I will do everything within my power to ensure that you feel safe and secure as you work on this site with this crew."

  The crew milled about grumbling under their breath as Tucker stepped forward and said, "Look, mates, the man has said his piece and he's got some good oil, I believe, so let's give him a chance to come good, okay?"

  "Right," came the smattering of responses as the men walked away toward their crews.

  "Don't take it too hard, Mr. Marks," Tucker said as he watched his men get to work. "They're a tough group, but if you do them right, they'll be loyal to you."

  "Austin," I said. "Call me Austin, Mr. Tucker."

  "Then I guess you can call me Buck." He smiled as he held out his hand.

  "I'm going to do everything I can to make sure I deliver exactly what Marks Enterprises promised, Buck," I said solemnly. "None of these men will lose their job, I can promise that."

  "I have no doubt, Austin," Tucker said with a smile. "You seem like a man of your word."

  "Will you let me know if anyone hears anything about where the rumors started?" I asked.

  "I reckon," he replied.

  "Thank you, Buck," I said then walked back to the car and headed back to the hotel, wondering how I was going to staunch a rumor that seemed to have no origin.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Emily

  Trish and I had talked for hours before we looked at the clock and realized hwo late it was. She went back to her room to get a few hours of sleep, and I curled up in the king-sized bed wondering how much space Austin would claim in a bed like this.

  I quickly fell into a deep sleep and found myself back in first class setting up a tray for a passenger. I looked around for Trish, but I was all alone in the galley. I walked into the cabin with the tray and noticed that the lights had been dimmed and the cabin was silent. I noticed light streaming through a crack in one of the pod doors. Carrying the loaded tray, I walked toward it and balancing it on one arm, I tapped lightly on the door.

  "Come in," called a voice from inside.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, sir – Austin," I said when I realized who my solitary passenger was. "I've got your tray, would you like it set up on the table?"

  "Yes, Emily, I would," he smiled and I turned to set the tray on the ottoman so that I could pull out the table. As I stood up, I felt him standing right behind me, the warmth of his body against my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist as he bent down and lightly kissed my neck, sending chills up and down my spine.

  "You are so beautiful," he whispered softly before gently kissing my ear. "You know that, don't you?"

  "I...I...oh," I moaned softly as he spread his fingers out across my abdomen and pulled me tightly against his body. I could feel his fingers slowly sliding up my stomach until he was cupping each of my breasts and gently pinching my nipples. "Austin, no..."

  "But don't you want me to touch you?" he whispered as he dragged his tongue across the back of my neck making me shiver. I felt light-headed as the blood in my veins coursed its way down between my legs. "You like it when I touch you, Emily, don't you?"

  "Oh yes," I moaned as I felt one of his hands let of my breast and slide down to the hem of my skirt. He slipped it between my thighs and began stroking the soft skin so lightly that I couldn't hold back, I wanted to turn around and kiss him. I wanted to feel his lips on mine. I wanted him to strip me naked and caress every inch of my bare skin. I wanted to feel his skin against mine.

  "Oh, Austin..." I sighed and as I shifted in his arms and turned to kiss him, the emergency alarm in the aircraft blared out a warning that the plane was descending too rapidly. The air masks dropped from their hidden compartments and the pilot's voice came over the intercom, "Good morning, Ms. Warner. It's 7:45 and this is your wakeup call! The temperature outside is 20 degrees Celsius with no clouds in sight! Have a beautiful day!"

  I groaned as I opened my eyes and realized I was holding the phone receiver to my ear. I looked around the room, both disappointed and relieved to find that I was alone in my bed and marveling at how close I'd come to having had sex with Austin in my dream and at how good it had felt to have him paying attention to me and my desires.

  I climbed out of bed and wrapped myself in the thick terrycloth robe and walked out into the main room to find that room service had anticipated my wakeup call and delivered breakfast. I sat down and pulled the silver cover off of the plate to find a steaming hot plate of creamy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and home fried potatoes underneath. I lifted the cover on the
second plate and found a stack of sourdough toast dripping in butter and a pot of jam just behind it. I sighed as I poured myself a cup of strong coffee and added some cream, then I dug into the meal, knowing that it would probably be at least twenty-four hours before I had anything this substantial again.

  Just as I was finishing breakfast, the elevator buzzed and when I checked the security screen I found Trish, dressed, packed and ready to go, standing there. I buzzed her up, and waited for the elevator doors to slide open before I began peppering her with questions.

  "What are you doing? We don't leave for another four hours," I said. "Why are you so early?"

  "I know, but I wanted to stop by the grocery store and then check out the duty free shop at the airport," she explained. "My mother gave me a list of things she wanted me to pick up while I was here."

  "One of these days, you're going to get caught exporting goods, you know," I laughed. Trish's mother was always giving her long lists of things she wanted her to find while in foreign ports. Trish dutifully bought what she could, never asking her mother what she did with them once they were handed over.

  "Whatever," she shrugged as she looked past me toward the table. "Oooh, breakfast! Can I have some?"

  "Sure, there's a ton left," I said. "I'm going to go pack and get ready, you eat."

  "Mmmrf," Trish nodded with her mouth already full of toast.

  "You're impossible!" I laughed as I walked back to the bedroom.

  #

  Forty minutes later, Trish and I stepped into the elevator and waved goodbye to the penthouse.

  "I'll never see anything that fancy again," I sighed longingly as I watched the view being cut off by the closing doors.

  "Oh, don't say that," Trish scolded. "You've got a billionaire who's after you, so you never know!"

  "Trish, you're crazy," I said rolling my eyes.

  A few moments later we stepped off the elevator and as we were crossing out of the corner of my eye, I saw Austin standing close to an older blonde woman dressed in an outfit that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. She was holding his face in her hands as they looked deeply into each other's eyes.

  I tried not to stare, but I couldn't help it. She was stunning and as I watched she stood on her toes and kissed him! He gave her a serious look and then as he turned to head out the door, she smacked his butt and laughed. I looked away as I felt the tears welling up in my eyes.

  What a fool I was! Austin Marks was a billionaire playboy who had wanted a quick roll in the hay with a young employee, and when I hadn't given in, he'd found greener pastures elsewhere. I felt foolish and ashamed for falling for his act and angry at myself for believing that it might be more than just a quick hook up. I was a game to him, nothing more.

  As I watched him walk out the door, I squared my jaw and reminded myself that I had a husband to go home to – a husband who loved me and who I shared a life with. I didn't need affirmation from a self-absorbed rich boy who played with people's feelings. As I donned my self-righteous mantle of defense, I lifted my chin and marched toward the front door.

  "Yo, Princess!" Trish called as she tipped her head towards the opposite door. "Where are you going? I still need to drop off my room key and the bus stop is that way."

  "Right," I muttered. "From the penthouse to the bus stop, it figures."

  "What are you mumbling about?" Trish asked as she joined me at the front door.

  "Nothing, just sour grapes." I lifted my head, forced a bright smile, and cheerfully said, "Let's go get the stuff on your mom's list!"

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Austin

  A week later, I was back in New York, trying to figure out how to find the mole spreading the rumors that were still flying on the Sydney site. I'd had a rough day at the office catching up on paperwork and reading through a pile of reports about our potential new projects in Berlin and Marrakesh. There were a number of new opportunities opening up and while I was interested in expanding the business to places that seemed profitable, I was also hesitant to expand too far, too fast.

  My father had gotten caught up in the ’80s building boom, and had learned a hard lesson when the global interest in gambling and travel had dipped and left him holding the bag on properties that couldn't recoup their monthly expenses. I wanted to make sure that we weren't going to repeat the mistake, so I was very careful about where Marks Enterprises invested money in construction. This had not made me popular with the speculators in the company, and, in fact, had created some deep divisions between various groups. As a result, I was constantly tamping down sparks that threatened to burst into flames by playing the heavy and nixing projects that hadn't proven they were viable.

  The bigger problem was that many of the people who had worked for my father didn't trust me to follow in his footsteps, and I didn't really blame them. I'd been a complete unknown when he'd died since he'd never publicly acknowledged me as his son, but I'd worked hard to prove myself capable of running the company and in a few short years, I'd not only earned an MBA from Colombia, I'd also spent time learning at the feet of some of the greatest CEOs in the business. The problem was that I couldn't come out and say that because it would upset the business world to know that the major players were actually helping each other, rather than cutting each other off at the knees.

  So, I'd stepped into my role looking like the new kid on the block: a dilettante who was ill-prepared to lead a major corporation, but I knew better and that was all that mattered. Unfortunately, it was this erroneous perception that had made Daniel and his team unhappy. And, now that I'd looked at the Berlin project plans, I had even more questions about what they were doing and how they were doing it. They were not going to like me poking around in their business, but I wasn't about to sign off on a project about which I had so many questions.

  "Dammit," I sighed as I rubbed my eyes and looked back down at the report in front of me. I'd been reading for almost seven hours and I was tired, hungry, and more than a little cranky. My phone vibrated as a text from Anna arrived.

  Gold_Goddess: Whacha doin?

  Austin_Marks: Reading. You?

  Gold_Goddess: Thinkin bout U!

  Austin_Marks: Right.

  Gold_Goddess: Dinner tonite?

  Austin_Marks: What about whatshisname?

  Gold_Goddess: Outta town.

  Austin_Marks: You bring dinner? I'm tired.

  Gold_Goddess: Will do. 8 at your place?

  Austin_Marks: Will be there.

  Gold_Goddess: Cya soon!

  I hadn't seen Anna in weeks and I missed her light easy company, among other things. I smiled as I looked at the clock and saw that I had two hours before she'd arrived with dinner. I had time to finish this report and then head to the gym for a quick workout. I looked back down at the report, sighed, and then slammed it shut.

  "Screw it," I said to no one. "I need to get out of here!"

  I threw the report along with a few others into my bag and headed out the door. On my way out, Johanna signaled to me from behind her desk.

  "Mr. Wentworth wants to meet with you in the morning," she said as she handed me a stack of papers Daniel had left for me. "Do you want me to rearrange the morning schedule?"

  "No, just leave it-" I started and then a thought crossed my mind. "Yes, schedule him for first thing in the morning and move everything else back by an hour. I'll take care of this before the day gets going."

  "Very good, I'll call and let him know," she nodded. "Do you want a full breakfast in the conference room?"

  "No, just have some rolls and coffee brought in," I said, smiling conspiratorially at her. "Make sure they're from Le Pan Quoiden."

  "My pleasure, sir," she smiled back as she picked up the phone and began dialing.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Emily

  Trish and I made it to the airport just in time to start preparing for boarding. We'd located everything her mother had requested, shaking our heads at the six jars of vegemite.


  "Who eats this stuff?" Trish asked as she pulled the jars from the shelf and added them to the basket.

  "I do not know," I replied shaking my head. "People have odd tastes."

  The flight home was uneventful as we had an almost empty cabin. I brought the businessmen in 2D and 3D hot towels after take off, but they both requested that I let them sleep until an hour before landing, so there were no meals or drinks to serve. Trish had a family of four in the center aisle, but the teenage children were eager to shut out all adult interference and watch movies, so they asked for next to nothing while their parents slept.

  "What's going to happen when you get home?" Trish asked as we checked the drink fridge for the fifth time. We had already pulled everything out and cleaned it, as well as straightening up all the cupboards and making detailed notes about what needed to be restocked for the next trip.

  "I don't know," I said. "I guess I'm going to suggest that we go to a marriage counselor."

  "Wait, what?" she said, surprised at my seemingly sudden change of heart. "I thought you were going to go home to dump the drunk and see what happens with the billionaire boss!"

  "Please, Trish," I said rolling my eyes. "Don't go there. That kind of stuff doesn't happen to girls like me. That only happens in the movies. I'm going to go home and see if I can salvage what's left of my marriage and try to make the best of things."

  "Princess, I do not have a good feeling about this," she said in a singsong voice.

  "Trish, seriously," I replied. "What other options are there? I've got a house with a mortgage and a husband who is depressed and unhappy because his baseball career is over before it even started. Maybe if I get him to go to counseling, we can figure out how to fix things and be happy together. I mean, isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

  "Wow, that's quite a plan for someone who was talking about striking out on her own and seeing the world," she said as she opened a can of soda and poured it over crushed ice. "Why are you going to let yourself get trapped into a marriage that is dead and end up pushing out babies with a guy who may or may not stop drinking?"

 

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