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

by Adams,Claire

  "Is there anything else I can do for you, son?" he asked. I hated the way he called me son. I sounded like he was trying to step in and substitute for my father.

  "Well, I'd like to take a look at his office and see if there are any pictures I could have," I said. After my father and Eva had gotten married, she had put all of the pictures of my mother into storage. I knew that the office would be the only place that my father would have kept pictures of my mother, and if he had kept them, I wanted those.

  "I'll call down and ask his assistant to gather up the pictures and have them brought to where you're staying," he said as he picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Miss...um...Miss Frost, please go into Dr. Powell's office and collect his personal mementos and box them up. I'll send a service to pick them up and deliver them to his son."

  "I'd prefer to go up and get them myself," I said as I stood up, grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder and turned toward the door.

  "Ryan, I'm sorry, but that's just not possible," Julian said. "You are not to go in your father's office. We need to make sure that everything that's in there now, stays in there, and that none of his papers are disturbed until someone on the project can go through them."

  "I'm sorry, sir?" I replied. It seemed like such a strange thing to say to someone who only wanted the personal mementos. "I'm not interested in going through his work papers, I simply want the photos and his personal effects. I'm not sure I understand what the problem with that is."

  "I'm saying that I do not want you in your father's office, and that's my final answer," he repeated in a terse voice. "Are we clear on that?"

  "I'm not sure I understand why you're so against me picking up his things," I said as I made a mental note of his tone.

  "I said I would have everything delivered to you," Julian said as he narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "You are not to go near that office, young man."

  I'd dealt with enough people in my career to know when someone was trying to hide something, and Julian was doing an exceptionally bad job of hiding the fact that he was hiding something.

  "Sure, I understand," I said as I flashed a non-threatening smile. "No worries, I just wanted the pictures of me and my mom and dad, but I guess there's no reason I can't wait to have them delivered. It keeps me from having to lug them uptown, doesn't it?"

  "Indeed," he murmured as he studied me. My backing down had raised his suspicion. "You're staying at with your stepmother, aren't you? I'll have everything sent over there."

  "Yes, I am," I nodded and then made my way to the door. I turned and looked back at him and added, "Thank you, sir."

  Julian Baines nodded as he gestured for me to leave the room.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Echo

  I was sitting at my desk going over paperwork and trying not to cry when a man who looked like he'd just walked out of an advertisement for every branch of the military pushed through the door and dropped his duffle bag in front of my desk. I looked up at the tall broad-shouldered man who was sporting several days worth of stubble, but still managing to look impeccable and wondered what he was doing in my office.

  "Can I help you, sir?" I choked out as I tried, and failed, to stop staring at him. He was wearing a dark short-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans that looked like they were brand new. Both fit him like a glove. I could see that he had multiple tattoos on each arm, but I couldn't tell what they were as I couldn't stop staring at his eyes. They were a shade of amber that seemed to change color as he scanned the room talking it all in. I couldn't look away.

  "Can I help you?" I repeated in a stronger voice this time. "I'm Echo Frost, Dr. Powell's assistant. And you are?"

  The man turned and stared straight into my eyes for what felt like an incredibly long time before he held out his hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Frost, I'm Lieutenant Ryan Lucas Powell, Dr. Alan Powell's son."

  I inhaled sharply before taking his hand and pumping it a few times. I had known that Dr. Powell had a son, but I'd never seen anything but childhood pictures, and Dr. Powell had never talked about his son in any way that led me to believe he was an incredibly good looking man.

  "It's nice to meet you, sir," I said in a shaky voice, then remembering where I was and what was happening, I added, "I'm so sorry about your father. He was a good man who was very kind to me and I'm going to..." I trailed off as the lump in my throat threatened to push upward.

  "You don't have to call me sir," he smiled as he pulled his hand back. I blushed when I realized I'd held on, and then dropped my eyes to my desk as he continued, "You can just call me Ryan. I'm here to pick up a few things from my father's office and Mr. Baines said you were the one who held the key. Is that correct?"

  "Yes, si — Ryan," I nodded as I opened my top desk drawer and grabbed the keys. I quickly walked over, stuck the red key in the lock and turned. The door swung open and I flipped on the lights. It was the first time I'd opened the door that day and it felt overwhelming as I realized that Dr. Powell would never be sitting at his desk asking me to bring him the days tech reports or inquiring whether the labs he'd asked for had arrived. I put my hand over my mouth as if that would hold back the flood that was threatening to break through my emotional dam. I sagged against the wall and felt Ryan's hand on my shoulder.

  "Are you okay, Miss Frost?" he asked quietly.

  "Echo," I said softly. "If I call you Ryan, you call me Echo."

  "Are you okay, Echo?" he said leaving his hand on my shoulder. It was large and warm, and it felt comforting to know that he was there in case my grief was going to pull me to the ground.

  "I'm...I'm... I'm fine," I stammered. I felt ridiculous. I was standing here being comforted by Alan Powell's son. I had no right to be as sad as I was, and yet I couldn't help it. "I'm so sorry."

  "It's okay, you cared about him, I get it," Ryan said.

  "But you're his son!" I cried as the tears began to flow. "I'm just his office assistant and I have no right to be this sad."

  "Sure you do," he said squeezing my shoulder. "You cared about him, and he obviously cared about you. It's natural to be sad."

  "How do you know he cared about me?" I said wiping my eyes grateful for the steady hand holding me up.

  "He let you keep your job," Ryan grinned. That made me laugh, and pretty soon we were both laughing. Ryan said, "He was not an easy man."

  "No, he most certainly was not," I said shaking my head as I recalled the times during my first few months on the job that Dr. Powell had handed back papers with things circled red and told me to fix the errors. I'd quickly learned to triple check everything I typed for him, but after six years, he would still occasionally drop a report on my desk saying that it needed a bit of work.

  "He was demanding," Ryan said. "Very demanding."

  "But he never asked me to do anything he wouldn't do himself," I said as I raised my hands to my face to cover the tears that were again flowing. Ryan moved around in front of my and wrapped his arms around me so that the backs of my hands were pressed against his chest as I cried, "I miss him so much already!"

  "I know," he said as he patted my back and rested his chin on the top of my head. I could smell a hint of his musky cologne, and it made me feel a little dizzy as he held me close. I could feel his muscles through the t-shirt when I pulled my hands away and buried my face in his chest. I clung to him as I cried harder. He didn't say a word. He simply cradled the back of my head with one hand and wrapped his arm around my waist as he waited for the storm to pass.

  When I finally felt like I'd cried all the tears I had, I pulled back and looked up at his face. He held my gaze as I noticed that his amber eyes contained flecks of gold and green, and I felt like I could get lost in them. Suddenly aware of how close we were and that my body was starting to respond in a way that was totally inappropriate, I stepped back, while wiping my eyes and trying to smile bravely. Ryan returned the smile and dropped his hands, and I felt saddened by their absence.

&nbs
p; "You probably want to take a look around without someone over your shoulder, don't you?" I asked as I walked to the desk and grabbed a tissue from the box on the corner.

  "I'd just like to sit here and think," he replied. "If you don't mind."

  "Not at all," I said as I headed to the door. I wondered if he'd felt anything when he'd let go of me, then I shook my head to clear the thought and smiled weakly as I said, "If you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

  "Thank you, Echo," he said as he turned toward the desk and rested his hands, palms down, on its surface as if he could pick up some kind of vibration. "I'll let you know if I need anything."

  I ducked out of the room and quietly shut the door behind me as I went back to my desk. I didn't turn around to see what he was doing, but for the rest of the afternoon, every nerve ending in my body was on high alert waiting for Ryan to re-enter the room.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ryan

  I'd been sitting at my father's desk sorting through his things for over an hour when Julian came bursting into the office followed by his secretary.

  "I told you that you were not allowed in this office!" he shouted as he grabbed my duffle bag and unzipped it. "Where is it?"

  "I didn't take anything," I replied mystified by his behavior. He was digging through my bag tossing things out onto the floor as he muttered under his breath about confidentiality and proprietary information. I tried to figure out what was going on and said, "Sir, I'm not sure what you're looking for, but I guarantee it's not in there."

  "Mr. Baines, maybe if you tell me what you're looking for, I can help?" Echo interjected.

  "Did you let him in this office, Miss Frost?" Baines asked as he glared at her.

  "I did," she replied looking at me nervously.

  "And I don't supposed he informed you that I had said he was not allowed access to this office, did he?" Baines said as he turned and glared at me.

  "He did not, but I'm sure that he didn't—," Echo began.

  "Don't be so sure of anything, Miss Frost," he snarled. "You're entirely too trusting."

  "Mr. Baines, I'm simply gathering my father's personal effects," I said as I watched him march over and pull open my duffle bag.

  "What are you doing?" Echo demanded as she watched Baines go through my bag and pull out everything in it before dumping it upside down to make sure there was nothing left inside.

  "I'm simply making sure that Lieutenant Powell doesn't remove anything that is the property of TriCorp from the premises," he replied as he dropped the duffle bag and looked up at me. I had no idea what he thought I could or would be stealing, but there was something about his accusation that made me think whatever it was he thought I might take was something extremely important.

  "I promise that I am not taking anything out of this office besides the pictures that are sitting on the corner of the desk," I said nodding at the stack of photos of my father, my mother and myself. Julian picked up the frames and looked through them as if I could have possibly hidden something in them.

  "Very well," he nodded and then headed toward the door that Echo held open. He stopped at the door and turned to say, "I want you to pack up your things and be out of this building in five minutes. I will send security up to escort you out."

  I knew that saying anything else would simply get me kicked out faster, so I nodded and got up to put my things back in my duffle bag. Echo cast a look in my direction and then escorted Julian and Ruth out of the office. By the time she returned, I had stuffed everything into my bag and was looking around for something to put the pictures in. She stepped out into the front office and returned a few moments later with a box.

  "Here," she said. "I think they'll fit in this."

  "Thanks."

  "No offense, but what does he think you're going to take from the office?" she asked looking around as if she were seeing the space with new eyes.

  "I have no idea," I said shaking my head. "There's nothing here that I want, but obviously he thinks there is. It makes me a little suspicious."

  "The lady doth protest too much?" Echo grinned as she watched me pack up the photos.

  "Exactly," I laughed.

  "Are you going to take those back to your dad's place?" she asked.

  "Well, um..." I tried to think of a way to avoid having to answer this question. I didn't want her to know I was homeless, but I didn't want to lie, either.

  "What? Your stepmother won't like it?" she asked.

  "No, actually," I began. I looked up at her and thought about how she'd already trusted me with her grief, so I blurted out, "We got evicted from the apartment this morning, so I don't have any place to stay and my dad's money is all tied up in the will, so I don't have any of that either."

  "Why? Where are you going to go?" she asked. I could see that she was a little surprised that I'd told her what was going on.

  "I'm not sure," I shrugged. "Make some calls and see what I can come up with. The Navy might give me a place over at headquarters if I ask."

  "You mean you have nowhere to go?" she gasped. "You're homeless?"

  "Pretty much," I said pretending to reorganize the pictures in the box so that I wouldn't have to look up and see her pitying me. "I'm not exactly homeless. It's just that I don't have a place in the city because I've been traveling for most of the last twelve years. Any time I came back to the city, I stayed with my father or in the Navy barracks."

  "Don't you have any money?" she asked quietly as if she was embarrassed to be talking about such a personal thing.

  "Yeah, well, that's the problem," I said. "All the assets from the estate have been frozen and I've only got enough money for a few nights at a mid-range hotel before I'm tapped out."

  "Then you should come stay with me," she said. "I've got a couch that you can crash on. It's not that comfortable, but it'll do."

  "Do you always go around asking complete strangers to bunk with you?" I asked.

  "You're not a complete stranger," she said as she waved a hand at me dismissing my concern. "You're Dr. Powell's son. That means you're like family."

  "My dad was part of your family?" I grinned. I needed a place to stay, but I didn't want her to know how badly I needed it because then I'd feel embarrassed about being a full-grown man who didn't have a place to stay. "That's a little weird, don't you think?"

  "Not like that, dummy!" she laughed. When she laughed her face lit up and her eyes got very blue, I couldn't stop staring at her, and I couldn't shake the feeling of having held her in my arms as she cried. "But he was a good man, and he did good things for me. Helping you out in your time of need is the least I can do to repay his kindness."

  "All right, well, if you're sure it's not an inconvenience," I said wondering if this woman was real. "I'll bunk with you tonight, but tomorrow I'll figure something else out so you don't have to worry about being inconvenienced."

  "It's really not a problem, Ryan," she smiled. "Why don't you wait for me down at the coffee shop on the corner? I'll be done here in about an hour and we can take a cab back to my place."

  "Sounds like a plan," I said as I gathered up my duffle bag and the box of photos. I took one lasts look at my father's office wondering what it was in this room that had Julian Baines so worried. I shrugged and walked out into Echo's office just as the security guard entered.

  "Are you ready to go, Mr. Powell?" he asked.

  "That's Lieutenant Powell, Butch," Echo said. "Lieutenant Ryan Lucas Powell. He's a Navy SEAL, just FYI. Ryan, this is Butch Wilson, head of security at TriCorp."

  "Well, well, well, your daddy must have been awfully proud of you!" Butch smiled.

  "I don't know about that, sir," I said knowing that I should shake his hand but not having one free to do it. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Wilson."

  "Oh please, call me Butch," he said as he stepped back and held the door. "Just 'cause I gotta escort you out of the building doesn't mean we can't be friendly!"

  "All right, then, Butch," I chuc
kled. "Lead the way."

  "I'll see you in an hour or so!" Echo called as we walked toward the freight elevator.

  "Thought you might want to go out the back rather than the front door with all that stuff," Butch said as we waited for the car to arrive. "Mostly so Mr. Baines doesn't hassle you about what's in the box."

  "Oh, he's already done that," I said soberly.

  "Yes, I imagine he has," Butch nodded. "He's a tough man that one. Not like your daddy. He was a nice man. Always had a kind word or a smile."

  "My father?" I said stunned to hear Butch's description.

  "Oh yeah," he nodded as the car arrived and he held the door for me. "He was a kind man. Always stopped by the security desk to say good morning and drop off a cup of coffee or a bagel or something."

  "Are you sure you're talking about my father? Alan Powell?" I said. My father had never been a man who had casually stopped by someone's office or picked up coffee on the way into work. In fact, one of Eva's biggest complaints about him had been that he never remembered to do any of the things that kind, courteous people did for one another. She said my father was clueless and anti-social, but then she'd laugh and say that it was only to be expected from someone with a genius level IQ and a mind full of biochemical formulas.

  "Yes, son, I'm talking about your father," Butch grinned. "I'm guessing he wasn't the same at home."

  "Not at all," I said trying to remember any time my father had been demonstrative or anything other than perfectly organized and completely self-contained. "He was tough. He expected a lot from people."

  "Oh he was tough down here, too," Butch laughed. "He was a drill sergeant every time he had a delivery that had to be taken up to the seventeenth floor. He'd be down here ordering people around and checking things off his list. A couple of times I almost brought him a whistle, but I didn't want to overstep my boundaries."

  "I can definitely picture my father organizing things," I nodded as the elevator doors slid open and Butch and I stepped out into the back hallway.