Teaching The Boss

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Teaching The Boss Page 1

by Mallory Crowe




  Contents

  Teaching The Boss

  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

  Teasing The Boss

  Teaching The Boss

  by

  Mallory Crowe

  Teaching The Boss

  by Mallory Crowe

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Fonts used with permission from Microsoft.

  Copyright © 2015 by Mallory Crowe

  Mallory Crowe (2015-03-15). Teaching The Boss (Billionaires in the City Book One) Kindle Edition.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  “I hate models.” April tossed her fork down and tried not to think about the calories in the maple glazed salmon that sat untouched on her plate.

  “Ummm…should I not be offended right now?” asked Jessica, the striking woman who sat across from April.

  “You’re not like them. You’re well rounded in a thin and glamorous way. I swear, every woman he’s ever dated is a spiteful, skinny, little…model.” Besides, April had known Jessica long before her career had taken off. No matter how different their lives were now, she would always remember Jessica as the scrawny track star from Elkton Middle School back in the Jersey suburbs. But that seemed like a lifetime ago now.

  “There you go again with the model thing.”

  “Sorry,” mumbled April. “It’s just that Sam is flying back from Europe in four hours and sent me a text saying he wants to take Oksana to La Plaque.”

  Jessica snorted. “Good luck with that. I heard that not even Trump can get in without making a reservation two weeks in advance.”

  “Well, I have something up my sleeve that Trump doesn’t. I know the manager.”

  “Not surprised. You know everyone.” Jessica brought a forkful of salad to her mouth in one polished move.

  April nodded. She’d probably met half the population of New York City by this point. Sam seemed to have appointments, parties, meetings, or golf outings with a new person every day. “This is different. This isn’t a Sam connection. This is a me connection. Jonathan moved over to La Plaque when it opened six months ago.”

  “Jonathan? You’re kidding. Why would he help you with anything?”

  “Come on. We didn’t break things off on bad terms. It’s not like I broke up with him.”

  “Yeah. He’s the one who left you, so that must mean you’re best friends.”

  April shook her head. “I’d fight with you, but Jonathan happens to be walking out of the Starbucks behind you right now.”

  Jessica twisted around to look over her shoulder. “You little sneak. You planned our lunch around his schedule?”

  April pushed her chair back. “Just a strategic restaurant choice.” Strategic in that Jonathan had always been strangely addicted to a certain latté served by the massive chain. “I’ll be right back.” She rushed past the streams of people between her and Jonathan. The late afternoon lunch crowd always flocked to the coffee shops and no-fuss delis for a quick bite around this time.

  As soon as she caught up to him, she tapped his shoulder. And he ignored her. In this crowded section of the city, it took a lot more than a tap to get someone’s attention. Rather than pound him on the back, April settled on getting his focus another way. “Hey, Jonathan!”

  He jerked around. “April? Oh my God. What are you doing on this side of town?”

  A smile covered his face, and April took a moment to soak in his handsomeness. That perfectly spiked hair, naturally tan skin, and completely endearing set of dimples could stop a girl’s heart. April tried to remember back to the times she’d been so infatuated with him. It seemed so long ago now. “Jessica and I were having lunch in the area and I remembered this is where you make your mid-day caffeine run.”

  “Yeah. Just trying to keep powered up for dinner service. How are you? It’s been almost a year since we—”

  “I’m good,” April interjected. She didn’t want to hear how he would’ve finished the sentence. For a brief moment, she wished she’d spent a few more minutes on her appearance. Her bright yellow dress toned down with a black cardigan was flattering enough, but paired with her black boots, it kind of made her feel like a bumble bee. If she’d known ahead of time that she’d be stalking Jonathan today, she probably would’ve grabbed her new bright blue skirt that made her hips appear as if they actually existed.

  Jonathan looked as if he’d spent plenty of time getting ready. His tailored black suit and skinny tie helped him to fit in with the elite clientele he was surrounded by. It was one of the reasons they’d worked as a couple. They both understood what it was like to bend over backwards for the rich and famous in the city that never sleeps.

  And that was about the only thing they had in common. Between his love of partying and her love of curling up with a good book, the similar jobs and mutual attraction were the only things they had going for them. “How about you? I heard you switched restaurants.”

  His eyes narrowed as his smile disappeared. “You’re here because you need a reservation.”

  April’s mouth dropped. “N-no. Jessica and I—”

  “Just happened to be having lunch at three thirty in the afternoon at a place that’s a half hour cab ride from the office. What is Hunt having you do now?”

  “Nothing! Like I said, I was having lunch and wanted to say hi. And, you know, Sam happens to be flying back to the States tonight and, since you brought it up, I’m sure he’d love to unwind someplace with such a sterling reputation for great food and atmosphere.” She tried to put her most charming smile on, but Jonathan continued to glare down at her.

  Flattery. This conversation definitely needed more flattery. “I heard that a Texas congressman stopped by and actually said the steak was the best he’d ever had. And that the model who scored the Armani campaign was actually considering suing because she ate so much.”

  It was obvious he tried to keep his stern expression, but his mouth ticked up at the mention of the model. “No one’s called any lawyers.” The smirk reached both corners. “She just threatened to very loudly.”

  April laughed at the images of a tiny sixteen-year-old raising hell in a gourmet kitchen that flashed through her mind. “So, help a girl out? Please?”

  He sighed and took a sip of his coffee that probably had three shots’ worth of espresso buried under layers of sugar and cream. “So you’re still Hunt’s lapdog?”

  “I’m his assistant. Lapdog is in the job description.”

  “Being good at your job is one thing. But being obsessed with a man who is only thinking about the next party or girl he’s going to bang isn’t healthy.”

  April tightened her lips. Jonathan nev
er saw Sam as anything more than a playboy, and it had been one of their constant points of contention. He didn’t see the hours of hard work and dedication Sam put into his company, so the more she defended him to Jonathan, the more upset he would get. “I’m not obsessed with anyone. He can bang whoever he wants and it’s none of my business. It is my business to make sure he has a damn good dinner before the banging commences.”

  In truth, there might’ve been a time she was infatuated with Sam, but that was long behind her. Sure, she laughed at all his jokes no matter how corny, and every touch still sent a tingle through her, but that was the price of working with an attractive man.

  “April, you can’t come to me whenever you need a last-minute reservation. Especially not for that douche.”

  She hung her head; defeat set in. What restaurant could she possibly get last-minute reservations for that would impress Sam’s new girlfriend? Inspiration struck her like lightning. “You can leak it.”

  He took another drink. “Hunt eats locally all the time. There’s no story there.”

  “He has a new French girlfriend. She’s a twenty-one-year-old model, so she’s already aging out of the industry. I’m sure she’d love the attention.” Probably love the attention. April knew nothing about Oksana, aside from how amazing she looked in a bikini thanks to a quick internet search. “Good press for her, good press for La Plaque. It’s a win-win.”

  “If he finds out that you had a part in the press crashing his dinner, you might get into a lot of trouble.”

  April snorted. “Please. It would take a lot more than that to get me fired. So, reservations for eight thirty?”

  Jonathan looked her up and down. “Well played, April. You let me know if his plane gets delayed. I’ll make sure they get a premium table by lots of windows.”

  She was sure her grin went from ear to ear. She’d scored Sam a reservation to one of the hottest restaurants in town. This was going to be a good week.

  ~~~~~

  April took one more glance around Sam’s office. He should be there any moment, and she wanted everything set up perfectly. The cleaning crew made sure the second monitor on the handcrafted mahogany desk was wiped down. Three different colored pens and highlighters sat on the left side of where his laptop would go, and one lone pencil on the right.

  A cup of steaming coffee sat on the table in front of the couch that was pressed up against the far wall. Behind the main desk, a wall of windows stretched from floor to ceiling. There was a bathroom and closet space on one side of the massive office and a treadmill with a laptop setup on the other side.

  The entire layout was designed to make sure everyone who entered into the room would become instantly aware of the power of Samuel Hunt. April had been with him when HuntCorp was only a two-thousand-square-foot leased office space in New Jersey.

  With the capital Sam had from his trust fund and his sixth sense for what companies to invest time and energy into, they’d been able to take over the fifty-second floor of the premier office space that overlooked Central Park.

  April took a moment to appreciate the view. Sure, this wasn’t a dream job, but every time she looked out those windows at the beautiful, daunting city, she remembered what Sam had accomplished. What they had accomplished together.

  The door creaked behind her, and April twisted around. Her hands reached down to smooth her black pencil skirt and bright blue top.

  Sam strode into his domain at a brisk pace and barely glanced at April as he crossed over to his desk.

  “Good morning to you, too,” she muttered as she moved aside for him.

  He jerked his gaze to her and blinked a few times. “Shit. Sorry, April. I’m still on Paris time and probably got three hours of sleep. How have you been?”

  And suddenly the full force of Sam’s ice blue gaze was on her and she couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “Who cares about that? You were in Paris! Tell me everything. Where did you stay? Did you remember any of your French from high school? Did you see the Eiffel Tower? Is it really as pretty as everyone says it is? It always looked a bit too industrial for me, but everyone says how romantic it is.”

  Sam let out a laugh and ran a hand over his face. “Whoa. That’s a lot of questions first thing. Umm, the hotel was like any US hotel, so that was okay. I remembered how to say ‘hello’ and ‘where’s the bathroom,’ and I had no time to do any sightseeing. But I do agree with you about the Eiffel Tower.”

  “I do have to see it someday. Maybe when I see it all lit up at night with the right guy I’ll change my mind about it.”

  “Maybe I should’ve found some time to take Oksana. She’s probably seen it before, though.”

  April sighed, trying to imagine what a romantic vacation to Europe would be like. She blinked a few times to clear her thoughts. Any possible trips out of the country were still years away. The monthly payments on her student loans prevented any type of savings account even with the generous raise she’d gotten after the office had moved into the city. “How did she like La Plaque?”

  “She said real French food is better, but I enjoyed it. A nice treat to come back to. Were the reservations hard to get?”

  April bit her bottom lip. “I called in a favor or two, but nothing drastic. Might’ve given the manager permission to tell the paparazzi where you were eating.” Sam bent down to power up his laptop, and April held her breath and waited to see whether he was angry.

  “That was you, huh? Should’ve known. Well, it made Oksana feel important, and, as much as I hate the flashing while I’m eating, there’s no such thing as bad press.”

  She sighed in relief. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the food at least. You have a packed schedule today, so your only time to sneak in a nap would be at lunch.”

  Sam groaned. “Oksana is meeting me here for lunch, so that’s a no-go. I’ll have to power through. Think you can handle me being a grouch all day?”

  “I’ve been doing it for six years. I don’t see how one more day is going to make a difference.”

  He smiled down at her, and for a moment the entire office seemed to slip away. It was her Sam looking right into her eyes, his grin big enough for his dimples to show.

  Feeling herself slip into her old routine, April twisted away and headed to the table by the couch. Damn it. She hadn’t thought about Sam that way in months. Her first two years working with him had been a blur of wistful sighs and daydreams, but she’d long grown up from the wide-eyed eighteen-year-old hired to take phone messages.

  There had been one too many girlfriends and drunken nights over the years for her infatuation to continue. He’d never shown a hint of interest in her, and she wasn’t about to spend the rest of her life pining over a man who was so obviously not into her.

  Still, sometimes old habits died hard, and she supposed the two weeks away was enough for her body to forget that her mind was over him.

  In an effort to get back to her normal, more professional self, she picked up Sam’s coffee and her yellow legal pad and made her way back to his desk. He was sitting now and she was able to keep the desk between them as she read through her notes.

  “Marie from sales had her baby last week. I had flowers and a gift basket sent to her.”

  Sam nodded. “Nothing makes me happier than taking credit for your thoughtfulness.”

  “I try.” She grinned.

  “Are the Bs on that list of yours?” he asked.

  “Burkey and Booth do want to see you. I penciled them in for three p.m. Figured that would give you enough time to organize everything and talk to the auditors.”

  He pulled his phone out of his leather bag and scrolled through a few screens. “It looks like three is good. How is the audit going?”

  “Slowly but surely. Gavin is about to pull out all his hair, but he says the accounting department is under control. He’s hoping you make all this worth it.”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Please. With the stock comp he’s going to get after all these audits a
re over, he’s gonna be laughing all the way to the bank. The last valuation report I got said share price would triple in the first day after going public if we can pull this off.”

  Public. It was what Sam had been working toward ever since he’d started purchasing and consolidating the various plants that made up HuntCorp.

  “I can’t believe we’re so close,” she murmured. In some ways, the past six years had gone by in a blur, but in others they were the longest years of her life. When she’d first started working for Sam, she hadn’t known a thing about public or private companies.

  She’d taken two art classes at the community college and came to terms with the fact that she didn’t have an artistic bone in her body. She could appreciate it well enough, but in terms of having an eye for painting or photography, she was lost.

  After she’d seen her first gallery opening and finally realized the art world wasn’t for her, she’d ended up sharing a cab back to Jersey with the handsome and charismatic Sam. All it took was one conversation with him to make her trade one crazy career for another.

  “Planning out your vacation already?” Sam leaned back in his chair and cradled the warm mug of coffee.

  April snorted. “Vacation? Right. I have to work on paying off some of these school bills first.” Even with her generous salary, she could barely afford her small studio apartment. And, even though she’d only taken three classes a semester, once she’d transferred to NYU, the student loans had piled up.

  “Come on. You have to have something planned to celebrate.”

  She thought about the depressingly low balance in her savings account. Talking money with a millionaire was never good for her self-esteem. “What are you planning?”

  “I have a few ideas I’m tossing around. Oksana mentioned this private island off the coast of the Bahamas that she did a photo shoot on once. It might be nice to get stranded on a deserted island for a week or two.”

 

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