Bad Boss (Irresistible Book 2)

by Stella Rhys

  I laughed. “We don’t have the money for that. Sorry. But one day, I’ll earn it for you. Promise.”

  “I believe you.” Dad clinked his cappuccino cup to mine. “You’re hardworking enough, and the fact that you chose New York to start over tells me you’re not scared of anything. But let me tell you something. Some people with your brains and your talent still get lost in a city as big as that one, because there are so many people and so much to do. But I believe in you that you’ll look temptation in the eye, walk right past it and make yourself proud.”

  “And you and Mama proud.”

  “Us too,” Dad said. “No matter what you think sometimes, we could never stay mad at you. Sometimes, the heartbreak will hit us out of nowhere, because you’re our daughter and we wish you never even had to experience what you did at that school. We get angry that you were hurt. You might see us during those times and think we’re angry with you, but we’re not. We’re just going to take time to forget what happened, Sara. But eventually, we will. Your mother and I just want you to be safe and happy. That’s all any parent wants. We’re proud of you, Sara, and we believe very much in you.”

  I couldn’t forget those words, or that trip.

  It put me in awe of my parents’ forgiveness. My mother, in particular, had sacrificed her entire life and everything she knew to create and raise me. She then watched me make a mess of her hard work by getting myself into the trouble I did, and even after that, she continued sacrificing to simply ensure that I was happy, and encouraged. She had only just begun acclimating and hitting her stride in Texas when everything happened with me at college. She had given up every one of her dreams just to give me the chance to meet mine.

  So it was from that point forward that I swore to myself I’d repent for what I did. My parents deserved everything from me, and I would stop at nothing to make their hearts swell with pride for me.

  My mom cried the day I snagged that job at June Magazine out of college. My dad booked tickets to New York for that very weekend, so he could take me to a celebratory brunch.

  It was hard not to conflate their happiness with my happiness at the job. I associated my job with us moving on from what happened.

  The drama my freshman year of college became a distant memory we didn’t speak about. It still hung over our heads every day, but higher now – barely noticeable except for when certain topics came up, like wanting to look for a new job. My mom would ask what was covered in background checks, I’d quietly Google it, and neither of us would talk about why she had asked. We both knew, but we didn’t need to say it aloud. It still hurt too much.

  So over time, I told myself I was happy to stay with the same company. Perhaps I could’ve left, but the process of even thinking about it sent me back to the bad memories, and I preferred staying where I was – in a state of comfort. Predictability.

  For so long, I was sure I liked my life that way.

  “I wish I’d found you earlier,” Julian murmured as I sat on his lap, both of us entwined in one seat on the private charter. “I would have hired you to my company in a heartbeat.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, but that’s the point. You wouldn’t have found me earlier, because I felt too safe there,” I whispered. “And after everything I’d been through, there was nothing more important to me than feeling safe. Like there’s nothing to worry about, and I can just relax.”

  “Understood,” Julian murmured, running his fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes as I reveled in the feeling of his calm blending into mine.

  I couldn’t wait to touch down in Biarritz, but shortly after our conversation, I drifted off to sleep against his chest.

  29

  We arrived at night, and the view of Biarritz visibly took her breath away.

  It was fun for me to watch.

  The buildings along the coast were illuminated, glittering gold against the pitch black of the sky. It was a good preview to the glamour of the city in the daytime. Without a full view of it though, Sara was already enamored.

  “It’s so crazy. There’s old castles, but there’s Art Deco, and there’s this water,” she murmured as I let her walk ahead of me, taking everything in on both sides of her. She stopped for every building on her left and every jagged rock in the water to her right. It crashed gently against the shore, sweeping over our bare feet as we carried our shoes. “If The Great Gatsby took place anywhere but West Egg, it would be here,” she decided before finally turning and giving me the chance to look at her face.

  Her excitement was unbridled and it had her eyes brighter than I’d ever seen them.

  But she closed them and smiled when I held her cheek. With the moonlight shining down on her, she was as beautiful as I’d ever seen her. It made it hard for me to reconcile that at nine at night, we still had work to do. All I wanted was to take her into my hotel room and fall into bed with her. To hear more about her little road trips with her mom around Texas. I wanted to find out everything I possibly could about her, and the fact that I didn’t have all the time in the world to do that infuriated me.

  I asked myself how I hadn’t planned this trip better, and given myself more time with her before the Roths arrived.

  All I wanted was to touch Sara in every way that made her smile. I wanted to show her all my favorite parts of the town and let my memories with her serve as the last I left Biarritz with. I wanted to ask her a million simple questions I somehow didn’t have the answers to yet.

  I didn’t know where her favorite restaurant was back home, and that for some reason bothered me.

  I wanted to be the one who had all the information, all the elements to make her the happiest woman in the world. But with the Roths and their advisors arriving in twelve hours, and Sara far from brushed up on how to give a tour of the resort, I didn’t have the time. I had work to do, and for once, I fucking hated it. For once, I just wanted to relax.

  I just wanted to be with Sara.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked when she finally opened those glimmering eyes again. I smiled down at her as I replied.

  “Nothing.”

  It was difficult leaving Sara’s room in the morning while she was still asleep, but I had just gotten word from Colin that he’d arrived, and so had the Roths with their team.

  I let Sara rest. We’d been up late after arriving at night yesterday, and spending the next three hours touring the property before going back to her room.

  I asked some more of my questions last night as we relaxed in the bath, my front to her back, her head resting against the crook of my neck.

  Shamelessly, her favorite restaurant in the city was a West Village spot that sold only French fries and, apparently, “a glorious selection of condiments.” Her dream vacation was to either Tuscany or Monaco.

  “Why Tuscany?” I asked.

  “Because wine.”

  “Fair enough. Why Monaco?”

  “Because Grace Kelly.”

  “Your best friend once said my mother looked like Grace Kelly.”

  “She so does! I totally thought that yesterday. And Lia totally went on her Grace Kelly kick because of me. She’d never watch old Hollywood movies without me bugging her to.”

  So I’d collected some answers in French fries and Grace Kelly. Unsurprisingly, I wanted more.

  “Biggest goal?”

  She hummed against the ridge of her wine glass while thinking.

  “The thing I dreamed for longest about was definitely going to prom and feeling like a princess in some big, puffy ball gown,” she snorted. “Since I was five, I fantasized about every detail down to the big reveal of my dress, and the walk down the stairs, and my date putting on my corsage as my parents took pictures.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Don’t blame me. The stupid movies ruined me,” she giggled. “But anyway, since that ship has clearly sailed, I’d say the big goal is making enough money in the future to buy my parents a home in London. So they can fly back and forth between there and T
exas. A three-bedroom, preferably. For when I visit.”

  “Why three bedrooms? Do your parents sleep separately?”

  “My dad does snore like a beast, but no. I imagined for like, my kids.”

  “Yeah? And how many kids do you want?”

  “Three.” She twisted around to face me when she asked, “Yourself?”

  “At least one. No more than three,” I’d replied.

  This morning, I was still thinking about the wistful little hmm sound she made after I gave my answer. It made me grin even after I shut the door of her room behind me, the sound tugging at heartstrings I didn’t know I had.

  A moment after, I spotted Colin in the hallway.

  He was coming from knocking fruitlessly on my door down the hall. Turning from it, his eyes shifted from Sara’s door behind me to my wrinkled shirt. His smile was surprised but delighted, and much less restrained than I expected from him.

  “Sorry,” he apologized hastily before going straight into work mode. “So, Turner and Carter are here, and they’re… clearly not accustomed to working straight off a flight. Carter is going to sleep in his room right now, but Turner insists he’ll come for your meeting with the advisors.” Colin smirked. “He made it a really big deal that he was bestowing us with his presence, considering his jet lag.”

  I laughed. “Jesus. I don’t even need him here anymore. His work is done.”

  “Yes, well, now he just needs to be babysat and ego-stroked while you talk to the guys with the brains. Speaking of them, they’re early for the meeting in the salon, but I had the kitchen set up coffee and a breakfast platter in the meantime. Is, um, Sara joining?” Colin asked, eyeing the door of her room not too far behind me. That kid-like grin reappeared on his face.

  “I would say it’s not what it looks like, but it is,” I said as I nodded for us to start walking. Colin adjusted quickly to his surprise for my candor.

  “Oh. Well, she’s extremely smart, kind and capable, so if a rule were to be broken for anyone, it should be her.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said. We exchanged one amused look before returning to business. “To answer your question, Sara won’t be joining this meeting. She needs to meet with members of hotel staff to prep the Roths’ tour after breakfast,” I said as I got to my room. Colin stopped me as I opened the door.

  “Uh, sir – I know the itinerary is clear, but Turner specifically requested that she join us at breakfast,” he said. I exhaled.

  “She’s busy right now, so I’ll have her join late. See you down there in ten.”

  30

  SARA

  I had mentioned wanting a second just to walk around outside the resort last night, so despite Turner apparently waiting on me in the salon, I snuck out of the back of the hotel to check out Biarritz in the daytime.

  Greeting me at the door was the green 1958 Cadillac Eldorado Julian had called to take me on a fifteen-minute drive. With the top down, it particularly matched the glamorous vibe of the town. I had to giggle to myself, thanking the driver who held the door for me before whipping out my phone to text Julian.

  ME: Are you trying to make me feel like old Hollywood in this car?

  JULIAN: Whatever puts a smile on that face

  ME: Trust me there’s a big one right now.

  I couldn’t stop grinning as the driver whisked me down the street, providing his charmingly accented tour of Biarritz, the “gem of the Basque Coast” that once served as the exclusive holiday spot for European nobility.

  I was so very in awe.

  Every street felt like a mix of styles I never knew coexisted. There were bright colors and pastels, as well as stone castles and cliffs. It was trendy surf town meets fairytale kingdom, and I could hardly believe it was real.

  Though we had stopped a few times for me to wander and snap pictures, I didn’t at all feel like I’d had enough time. Of course, my consolation in going back to the resort was seeing Julian. A part of me already missed him. He’d snuck out early this morning while I was sleeping, and somehow, having only woken up next to him the past three mornings, I was already spoiled. I needed more.

  My cheeks were still flushed pink with excitement when I returned to the hotel, and by the time I got to the ritzy checker floored salon, I spotted Julian at a table with Colin, Turner, and four other men. Turner, despite looking deathly hung over with his sandy blonde hair in his eyes, spotted me first and rose quickly to throw his heavy arms around me in a bear hug.

  “This one!” he boomed. “The party doesn’t start till this one arrives. Gentlemen, meet the star of the show, Miss Sara Hanna.”

  I smiled graciously as I went around the table shaking hands and making introductions. All of the advisors were at least ten years older than Turner, but at least a few of them had the same wandering eye that he did.

  My outfit this morning was a striped top with flowy, high-waisted pants and espadrilles. Topknot. Headband scarf. Simple, sexy and not too showy. I was going to be in a swimsuit around these guys later, so I figured I’d pace myself.

  Of course, this outfit alone was causing Turner’s hand to linger for longer than necessary on my lower back. I could tell Julian noticed because his eyes were glued to Turner’s arm, and his posture was noticeably rigid under his white shirt.

  “Man, I can’t wait to take you surfing later,” Turner grinned as his advisors engaged Julian in some talk about inspections.

  “Turner, I think we made it clear that I’m actually not very good at that,” I said, giving him a laugh. He grinned and lowered his voice.

  “Well, I thought it was clear that my enjoyment came less from watching you succeed, and more from watching you splash around in a bikini.”

  Oh.

  What was left of my smile was stiff as Turner and I simply stood there for a moment, wearing amiable expressions for each other to maintain the guise of a seamless meeting.

  But I had expected this at some point. I had prepared myself for Turner to get handsy and inappropriate, and I wasn’t afraid. We were baiting him, after all, and this was expected. All I had to do was maintain pleasant enough to keep his ego stroked and his attention still piqued. Once the paperwork was in progress, my job as a professional seductress would require much less tolerance for Turner. Once the paperwork was finalized, I could very well tell him to fuck off if I wanted to.

  We were close. And I was confident.

  That said, I was still somewhat relieved that the weather took a turn when it came time for our surf and boating trip. We’d waited it out for a half hour, but with the rain still going, we canceled our beach outing and opted for what was originally scheduled for tomorrow – a tour of the spa.

  It was an oasis hidden in the very center of the resort with brilliant white pillars, sparkling pools and Turkish baths, as well as views of the sweeping coast. I had barely finished talking about what had been added during the renovations when Turner decided he needed a massage.

  “My back is stiff from the flight,” he said, wincing as he reached over his shoulders and rubbed himself.

  He locked his eyes on me as he did so. I cocked an eyebrow, and he grinned in response. I didn’t know exactly what he was saying, but I had a feeling it was lewd, and that feeling was confirmed shortly after.

  “Sara looks like she needs a massage,” Turner announced, his eyes still on me as he interrupted his advisors. “Maybe we should get a couple’s massage. You look like you’re probably very tight,” he said with a smirk.

  “Jesus, Turner,” one of his advisors laughed nervously as Julian offered an easy smile despite the fire I caught in his eyes.

  “Turner. Let’s get you an hour-long Swedish massage. Shall we?”

  “Trying to get me out of your hair, Hoult?”

  “Absolutely,” Julian said to the raucous laughter of the advisors. “Come on. Let me introduce you to our spa manager.”

  I was initially hesitant about staying at the spa while Julian went on to talk with the advisors, but he said
he preferred some time alone with them, and I’d have Colin with me as well.

  “Sara, he’s paying us to get massages right now. Come on,” Colin laughed under his breath as Julian waited for me to relent.

  “I just want you to have some time to enjoy yourself while you’re here,” he murmured, ushering me aside. “And I do like keeping elements of my business to myself. I hope you understand.”

  I nodded though I didn’t quite.

  But then I remembered how Julian had associated Liz with the success of his first billion-dollar business, and how that had too positively skewed his perception of her. I chewed my lip as I considered that by excluding me from this meeting, Julian was trying to put a barrier between his career and me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I felt like it was possibly the latter, but I told myself not to think about it too hard.

  So I distracted myself with the tranquil music playing as I got undressed in the women’s locker room, eventually emerging in a robe to find a girl named Anaïs waiting for me.

  For someone so small and petite, the woman was strong. Incredibly so. I had still been vaguely bothered by Julian’s request before entering the dim massage room, but barely a minute later, I was mentally thanking him for the treatment. It struck me only then that, save for the complimentary shoulder rubs at the manicure place, I’d never had a massage before in my life.

  And it felt amazing.

  My skin was slathered in natural coconut oil, and slippery enough to make it easy for Anaïs to rub the heel of her palms against as she massaged my back then my legs. Even the pads of her fingers were strong.

  God, this chick is good. I honestly wished I could afford her on a daily basis, just to help massage away all the stupid, overanalyzed thoughts in my head. Forty minutes into the massage, and she had yet to get tired or lose an ounce of strength.

  I was practically asleep from the deep relaxation when a knock sounded at the door.

  “Oh.” I could actually hear Anaïs frowning. She sounded as surprised as I was by the sudden interruption, quickly apologizing to me before slipping out of the room.