Teaching The Boss

by Mallory Crowe

  Sam’s jaw dropped as he stared down his utterly inept administrative assistant. There was nothing more important than the Bs. As long as they owned sixty percent together, he was their lapdog. “Give. Me. The. Message.”

  As nervous as he seemed, Eric didn’t seem to hear the agitated tone. He quickly crossed over to Sam’s desk, set down a piece of paper, and then shuffled back out. Sam let out a sigh and returned his gaze to the Bs. “I’ll get that paperwork sent over as soon as possible.”

  Jackson grunted. “Whatever happened to that girl? The pretty one?”

  It was the question he’d been getting repeatedly over the past four weeks, and it never got easier to answer. “She graduated from school and moved onto bigger and better things,” he lied.

  “Pity,” said Matthew.

  “We’ll leave you to it then. Thanks for meeting us on short notice,” said Jackson.

  More like no notice, but Sam wasn’t about to correct him. “You know you’re welcome anytime.” Sam pushed himself out of the chair and walked around to get the door for the Bs. “Have a safe drive out of the city,” he called as they left and headed for the elevators.

  As soon as they were out of sight, he shut the door with a bit more force than he was proud of. Damn it. That meeting had gone fine. There was no reason for him to be even slightly grouchy, but Eric seemed to bring the worst out in him.

  So what the hell was so important for him to barge into a meeting between the three most important people in the company?

  Sam fell back into his chair and picked up the white envelope Eric had dropped off. There was no stamp, so it was hand delivered. Two thick pieces of cardboard slid out of the envelope, each decorated with a print of some type of child’s drawing.

  The Jude gala. He’d somehow forgotten about it. April wasn’t around to remind him and Oksana hadn’t complained about him bailing on her launch party since that tumultuous night. After that, he and Oksana had distanced their relationship. At this point, their association was mostly for show, and neither seemed to want more.

  The memory of April convincing him to go to the gala was still fresh in his mind. When she’d admitted she’d bought two tickets already, he’d jokingly told her she would need to go. It might’ve been a joke at the time, but he would love the chance to get her cornered at a table for a few hours. If he could just get her alone, he was sure he could convince her to come back.

  She was such a stickler for charity.

  His heart beat a bit faster as he snatched his phone off the desk again. April’s contact info screen was still up, so with a brush of his fingertip, he sent the call.

  As he expected, the ringing continued until it went to voicemail. “April. You’re obviously ignoring my calls, but I figured this warrants a face-to-face discussion. I just got the tickets to the Jude Gala and, if I recall correctly, you’re my date. If you don’t go with me, I’m going to decline last minute and ask for my donation back. So I suggest you dust off your nicest dress and get ready for my car to pick you up Saturday at eight.”

  He ended the call and set the phone down; he stared at the small black device as if it were a bomb about to explode. Sure enough, two minutes later his notification light came on. He pounced on it and madly moved his fingers on the screen to see whether it was April.

  A wide grin covered his face when he saw that she’d sent him a text. Her first contact since she’d stormed out. He opened the message.

  You’re bluffing.

  She was right, of course. He might be ruthless in business, but when it came to kids, it was hard for him to say no. Nonetheless, he responded, You sure you want to find out?

  The minutes ticked by. He should check his email or return calls, but all he could do was stare at the phone. Ten minutes later, it chirped.

  You’re an ass.

  Victory. He had her now. This charity was much too important for her to chance anything going wrong, and they both new it. See you Saturday.

  His phone chirped again. I’ll take a damn cab. Overnight me my ticket.

  He grinned like an idiot for the rest of the day as he actually got some work done.

  CHAPTER SIX

  April stared down at her choices. Plain, black, elegant. Bright, tailored, attention-getting. They were her two favorite dresses, and she would wear one of them to the gala. She just had to choose in the next fifteen minutes.

  Her hair was pulled back in a simple but fancier looking braid. To make it appear a bit more formal, she had curled the few strands that framed her face. Since it was a fancy occasion, she spent a lot more time on her makeup. Her skin glowed; a finishing powder gave her cheeks a subtle glow when the light hit them just right. Her lids were lined in black, making her dark brown eyes appear almost black.

  Either way, she’d fit in with the guests who all made over seven figures a year. She was a master at fitting in with the elite. The real question was how she wanted Sam to see her. It was their first meeting in over a month, and the day she’d been avoiding was here.

  She was going to have to tell him where she was working. To be honest, she was half surprised he hadn’t called in a fit of rage to scream at her for the betrayal, but every voicemail had been relatively calm and apologetic. Each used a different tactic to get her to agree to come back.

  Some told her how great she was at her job. Some told her she’d never have to see Oksana again. But the ones that guaranteed she wouldn’t return his calls were the apology ones. No apologies for his thinking about firing her, or transferring her as he claimed in the messages. They apologized for what happened in the elevator.

  Not for talking about her with his girlfriend of three weeks. Not for neglecting to include her in these conversations about her future. For kissing her!

  As if she needed that whole ordeal to be more embarrassing. Those few moments of perfection. That little glimpse into what having Sam all to herself could be. The kiss that highlighted all she was walking away from was the one thing he was sorry for.

  If it weren’t for Donald’s job offer, there was a very real chance she’d have taken her old job back. She didn’t have a degree, so it would be hard to find a job that would enable her to keep her apartment in the city. Her aunt would have no problem with her moving back home, but it would be near impossible for her to commute from New Jersey to the university to finish her classes and work a job to pay off her already accumulated student loans.

  Her only other option would be to move in with Annabelle and Annabelle’s mother, but their tiny apartment in that horrible neighborhood wasn’t any bigger than April’s, and it had to house two women.

  So Donald really had been her savior that day. So far, everything he’d told her had been the truth. She had a very generous salary, and she worked on complex projects with a very experienced group of professionals to guide her in her new duties. Most importantly, he hadn’t asked her to do anything questionable in regards to her relationship with his son.

  Though she had a feeling Sam wouldn’t believe her when she told him. She massaged her temples. Good Lord. Was she really going to tell Sam she was working for his father?

  Confidence. She needed to be strong and stand on her own two feet. She needed to glare into his beautiful eyes and tell him that he’d lost her and she was never coming back.

  Red dress it was.

  She slipped into the clingy material. It was tight, but the thicker fabric was structured enough for the fit to be forgiving. Even though she had slowly lost weight in the years working for Sam, she was still far from model skinny.

  The impressively high black heels she slipped on made her bared legs appear longer and slimmer. The sweetheart neckline was low, but not too scandalous. As long as she didn’t wear a pushup bra, the girls were concealed well enough. She added some simple black earrings and a long black pendant. The deep V of the necklace added to the slimming effect.

  It was one of the most important things she’d learned in the city. She didn’t have to be a high r
oller or super skinny, but she could fake it, damn it.

  Finally satisfied with her appearance, April stuffed her purse with anything she might possibly need. As she finished, the cab company called to say her car was below. Though she normally used stairs, she took the elevator down in deference to her shoes.

  Her nerves had been held at bay for the most part during her frantic rush to get ready. As she sat in the back of a cab that had seen better days, she was left with nothing to do but play out possible scenarios in her mind. What would Sam say when he saw her? Would he mention the kiss? Did she want him to?

  Were he and Oksana still together? He never mentioned a breakup in any of his voicemails. Did she care if they were together anymore?

  The questions filtered through her cluttered mind until the cab finally stopped in front of an impressive skyscraper, the bottom stories made out of a black material that seemed to shimmer under the bright lights of the city at night.

  April was one of many arriving at the same time, so she fell in line with the well-dressed crowd and followed their lead. Some signs pointed the guests to a welcome station, where everyone turned in their tickets in exchange for a nametag and their table assignments.

  From there, she followed the crowd into the impressively decked-out ballroom. Massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, but the glow from the hundreds of lights were dim enough to give the room a nice ambiance.

  In contrast to the guests dressed up to the nines were the large posters set up along the edge of the room. Half of the posters were enlarged, cheery drawings by children the gala was benefiting, and half of the posters were photographs of kids smiling and playing. One photo in particular caught April’s eye. It was of a few kids running around on some grass, but she recognized the background. It was the event they’d had at Yankee Stadium last year.

  She’d convinced Sam to go and give an inspirational speech, and he’d dragged her along with him. Not that he’d needed her there. As much as he’d complained and whined about taking the time out of his busy work week, he’d had a blast. He’d talked nonstop with the kids and met a few pro players. April grinned at the memory.

  “Hey stranger.”

  April twisted around at the sound of Sam’s voice, only to find him right behind her. “Hey yourself,” she muttered. Great one. Her first time seeing him after storming out of the office and the best she could manage was “hey yourself”?

  And he looked fantastic. She was already tall at five foot ten, and the heels made her well over six feet, but she was still eye level with Sam. She’d seen him in a tux plenty of times, but somehow she always managed to be shocked by how handsome he was. As though he’d stepped right out of some debonair Fitzgerald novel.

  “Have you been to the table yet?” He pulled her from her overwhelming approval of his appearance.

  “I just walked in. Haven’t had a chance to do anything.”

  He nodded and a few seconds of silence stretched between them. What was he thinking? Did he know she’d been working with his father? If he knew already, he’d be upset, right?

  “Tell you what,” he said. “You go ahead to our table and I’ll grab you a drink. In the mood for anything special?”

  “Umm…” April eyed the amber drink in his hand that she only now noticed. “Are you drinking?”

  He leaned forward and moved his mouth just inches from her ear. “It’s apple juice. But if anyone asks, it’s top shelf whiskey.”

  April forced out a laugh, but it was hard to focus on anything with his warm breath that cascaded down her neck and sent shivers up her spine. She took a step back and tried to collect herself. “Diet soda is fine.”

  “I’ll bring it in a second.” He turned to walk back to the bar.

  She stood still a moment as she watched him cross to the bar. Sam Hunt getting her a drink? That was a first. With a glance down at the card that listed out her table, she pushed through the crowds of people and chairs to make her way to the front of the room. Another benefit of being one of the richest men in the room was prime seating.

  Nothing indicated which chair was for Sam, so she just picked an open seat with a good view of the podium where the speakers would be presenting. She smiled at the other guests at the table, but refrained from introducing herself. She might look the part, but the second they asked how she knew Sam, she’d be stuck. Which would be worse: calling herself his assistant or friend? His ex-assistant? That would just invite more questions. As for friend…she’d always thought they had some sort of friendship. But ever since that night, she’d questioned it. Every memory of him was now tainted with the idea that she was nothing more than an employee to him.

  “Here you go,” said Sam from behind her as he set a glass in front of her.

  “That was fast. Wasn’t there a line?”

  “The bartender made an exception.” He pulled the chair next to her out and flopped down. Sam didn’t have the perfect posture of some of the elite she’d met in the city. He always seemed so relatable and easygoing. It was one of the ways he’d been able to secure so many good business consolidations in his time building up HuntCorp.

  While he relaxed into his seat, April fiddled with her drink and mindlessly stirred the contents with her straw. She should say something. Mention the traffic or the weather or anything to break the awkwardness.

  But all she could manage was pulling out the evening’s program. As she pretended to be interested in the list of guest speakers, she could feel Sam’s gaze on her.

  “How have you been?” He leaned in so their conversation could be a bit more private.

  Her heart kicked up a notch. She should tell him. Just spit out that she was working for his father and get it over with. “Okay,” was all she managed.

  “I was bluffing,” he said.

  Her gaze met his. “Bluffing?”

  “Even if I demanded a refund for the tickets, I still would’ve made a donation. I just don’t want you thinking I’m the type of person who would do that.” His eyes were so serious and expression so earnest.

  “I didn’t really think you were.”

  “But you showed up anyway.”

  April shrugged. “Well, just in case.”

  “You really don’t think I’d bail on charity to spite you?”

  “Of course not.”

  He leaned in a bit closer. “But you think I’d fire you?”

  Her back stiffened as she realized the trap she’d walked into. “I see what you did there.”

  “I’m serious. How can you think I’d do something like that?”

  April shifted in her seat and made sure no one glanced in their direction. “I saw it. I heard what she said, and I heard what you didn’t say.”

  “I would never fire you. You’re too important for that. Oksana might not like you, but she could never make me get rid of you.” He bent forward and set one big hand over hers on the table.

  For a few moments, all she could do was stare at his strong, masculine fingers against her pale skin. Then she pulled herself out of her trance. “Are you still with her?”

  She felt his muscles stiffen and knew the answer even before he spoke.

  “We’re not together together.”

  April pulled her hand away from his. “You really talk a good game, Hunt.”

  “Let me explain.”

  Before she could tell him just how sick she was of his explanations, the lights dimmed as the program started. The uplifting and heartbreaking stories shared by the speakers and people close to the Jude Foundation were underscored by the awkward tension between April and Sam. All she wanted to do was get up and run out of the building. Any hasty escape was made impossible by the fact that she was in the front of the room. There was no way she could leave without drawing unwanted attention.

  Coming here had been a bad idea. She was in no way ready to tell Sam where she was working. He obviously came to the gala with a simple goal in mind: get everything back to the way it was before. He could continue
with his playboy lifestyle with her as the perfect little assistant. But there was no going back for her.

  As soon as the last speaker finished, the room filled with applause. She took her chance and pushed away from the table; she focused on the nearest exit and walked for it as quickly as possible. Of course, Sam was right beside her. He set an arm around her back, his palm on the curve of her hip. She jumped at the contact, tripped over her heels and fell right into his arms.

  She found herself against his hard chest. Her eyes refused to meet his. After that fall, her cheeks were probably beet red. There went any remaining shreds of dignity for the night.

  “April?” he asked softly above her.

  “I need to get out of here,” she mumbled as she found her footing and continued on to the exit, this time taking it a bit slower.

  But Sam didn’t go anywhere. He just gripped her tighter as he walked her out of the room and into the deserted hallway outside the ballroom. The second they were out of the prying eyes of the crowds, she pulled herself from his grip. “Just stop,” she said.

  “Stop what?”

  “Everything! Bringing me here like this is some sort of date. Touching me. All this when you’re still with your girlfriend, who half caused this whole mess to begin with. I don’t know what exactly you think you’re going to get out of this, but you need to stop.”

  “You want the truth?” He took a step closer as she took a step back.

  “I’m pretty certain I don’t at this point.”

  “The kiss.”

  Her heart felt as if it were about to beat out of her chest. “What?”

  “Tell me you didn’t feel something. Something you wanted more of.”

  April shook her head. “Don’t do this, Sam.”

  He closed the distance between them. “April,” he whispered. “I want you, and not as an employee. I want you.”

  She closed her eyes, willing the whole situation to go away. He couldn’t be saying this now. Not when he would hate her forever for revealing the truth. “I’m working for your father,” she blurted out. Something, anything, to get him to stop professing his feelings for her.