My Boss's Boss: A Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Mia Madison

  “My job is to make the transition as smooth as possible,” he said. “My door is always open, and in the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing a lot more with you about the Happy Hearth & Home benefit plan, employee incentives programs, and more. But the day to day running of the store? That’s up to you all. You’ve been doing an excellent job so far, so the last thing I want do is mess with that.”

  He paused and looked around the room, his blue eyes twinkling. When his gaze locked onto me, I felt a jolt of electricity charge through me. Clearly my body didn’t care that he’d taken the job I wanted.

  “I look forward to getting to know you each much better.”

  Was it just a coincidence that he was still looking at me when he said it?

  “Ms. Carson.”

  Aiden Donovan stopped me as I tried to follow the others out. “Stepped in front of any more speeding skateboards lately?”

  “Just the one,” I said. “Shopped for any more frozen turkeys lately, Mr. Donovan?”

  He grinned at that. “I can barely prepare a frozen dinner, let alone a turkey. I just wanted to see how the store was running before I introduced myself to every elf in the place.”

  His smile was infectious, but I made myself resist. I didn’t yet know what his presence here would mean for the store and for me. My loyalty was to Mr. Miller, not to tall men in expensive suits. No matter how good they looked in them.

  Aiden cocked his head sideways. “You look like I just cancelled Christmas.”

  Wondering what he’d seen on my face, I quickly switched to my default customer-service smile. “I just want what’s best for Miller’s.”

  “So do I. For Miller’s Hearth & Home, that is. John Miller said I could count on you. And I am. You know this store inside and out. I need someone like that to help me with the transition.”

  “Of course,” I said. This was my career, I’d do whatever I could to help out. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t keep my eyes open. To make sure he was doing what was best for Mr. Miller and the store. And for the employees.

  He chuckled. “I’ve never seen an elf look so conflicted. But you can trust me, Emma. Except for a few minor issues, I’m not going to change a thing.”

  And he didn’t. Not for those first few days, at any rate. But then next Monday morning, as I was having a delicious dream in which a tall, sexy, older man had his hand buried in my long dark hair, pulling me in close, and dipping his head for a kiss, the phone rang. Reluctant to lose the dream, I resisted the call to consciousness, but the phone kept ringing.

  Squinting, I looked at the time. Six-thirty in the morning. Picking up my phone, I saw that it was Mr. Miller. “Hello?” I said groggily.

  “Emma, he’s changing things.”

  4

  “Mr. Donovan? Could I talk to you for a moment?”

  He sat behind a large desk in a small office that until recently had been used for orientation for new employees. I’d conducted many training sessions in here, introducing new staff members to policies and procedures. But now all of those were changing.

  “Certainly. Come on in, Emma.” He stood and gestured to a chair in front of his desk.

  For some reason, the way he said my name made warmth spread inside me. Emma. He said it with a little extra emphasis on the second syllable, almost as if it were a moan.

  That thought made me recall the dream I’d had this morning when Mr. Miller interrupted it. Had that dream featured the man front of me? The way my face felt flushed and my pulse rate increased—even though I hadn’t yet had any coffee—made me think that it had.

  Today, he wasn’t wearing his suit coat, though I could see it draped over a file cabinet. No tie, either. Instead, his crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at his throat, and I could see the tan skin of his upper chest. Not that I was looking at his chest. Well, okay, I was. It was hard not to. He really filled out that shirt nicely. He must work out.

  “It’s Aiden.” His deep voice interrupted my musings.

  “What?”

  “Call me Aiden,” he said, leaning forward, his forearms resting on the edge of his desk. “What can I do for you?”

  “We—I mean I had some concerns about some of the recent policy changes.”

  He grinned, as if he knew that Mr. Miller had sent me here. “What is it you’re concerned with?”

  “Miller’s has always been a huge part of the community of Fayetteville.”

  “I can see that. The woman at the front desk of my hotel couldn’t stop gushing when I told her I was in town to work with this store.”

  He was staying at a hotel? For the three months he was here? Poor guy, that didn’t sound like much fun. Briefly, I wondered what his life must be like when he wasn’t on the road for his company. Besides the fact that he clearly spent a lot of time in the gym, I didn’t know much about him. He didn’t have a wedding ring, though, so I doubted that there was a Mrs. Donovan waiting for him anywhere.

  “Especially at Christmas time.” I pressed on with the most important item on the list of things Mr. Miller had begged me to bring up.

  “What’s your point, Emma?” His light blue eyes drilled into me.

  “Mr. Miller said you were banning the elf costumes.”

  “I am,” he said. “Does that surprise you?”

  Not really, I would have admitted if I could have. But it was upsetting Mr. Miller greatly. “Shoppers seem to really like it.”

  “Not enough to stop some of them from nearly mowing down an innocent elf.”

  “They were just playing,” I said, remembering the way he’d effortlessly picked up one of those boys and kept him from crashing into me. “But other shoppers… that’s one of the reasons they come here this time of year. For the Christmas decorations and festive atmosphere.”

  “But this is a business. Not a street festival. Do you really think it’s appropriate for an entire staff to roam the aisles in tunics and tights?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Sure, when I’d worked my first Christmas season it had seemed a little strange. But since Christmas season at Miller’s was a good eight weeks long, I was used to it by now.

  “It’s not very professional. And it’s not a look everyone can pull off,” he said. Now his eyes swept over my body, leaving no doubt that he didn’t consider me to be in that category.

  “It’s just for fun.”

  “Yeah? Would you wear that outfit to the library? Or to a friend’s house? Or on a date?”

  The word date made me suddenly imagine what it would be like to sit across from him in a booth in a dark, secluded corner of a restaurant. To gaze into his denim-colored eyes. To drink. To talk. To flirt. And then later, when we were alone, to feel his hands peeling off my bright red tunic, the silver bells jingling as he pulled it over my head—

  Okay that would be a pretty absurd thing wear on a date. And maybe at work, too. Aiden had a point, but I knew Mr. Miller would never see it that way.

  “It’s unprofessional,” he continued. “And how do you think the men feel? In those ridiculous green leggings. To know that customers are staring at them, that their skinny chicken legs are on display?”

  Wait a second. It was one thing to argue that the outfit was humiliating to everyone, but to say that it was more of a problem for males? “It’s a good thing that women don’t ever have any problems with men staring at their bodies.”

  He sat back, a half smile on his face. “I didn’t say they didn’t. Those costumes affect everyone.”

  “But it’s more embarrassing for men, because they’re not used to people staring at their legs?”

  “Wouldn’t you pay more attention to the unusual sight of a man in tight leggings than a woman?”

  His attitude was irritating. Frustrated, I leaned back in my chair, looking at the corner of his desk. Without thinking about it, I crossed my legs, bringing one green-covered knee over the other. When I glanced back at him, I saw where his gaze was directed. “I thought you said people were only gawking a
t the male elves’ legs.”

  The words had come out before I could stop them, but then I cringed. That was no way to talk to my boss. My boss’s boss, actually. But he was wearing an easy grin, apparently not at all bothered that I’d caught him checking me out. “Touché. But if employees were wearing normal work clothes, none of this would be an issue. So no more elf costumes. Starting tomorrow.”

  Damn. That had been Mr. Miller’s number one concern, and I’d just lost that battle. “What about during the Christmas Festival? Mr. Miller can’t be Santa without his elves as helpers.”

  “We’ll see about that when it’s December. What’s next?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What’s next on the list John sent you with? And when you’re through with your demands, please remind him that he can speak to me directly, too.”

  “I know,” I said. “I mean he knows. He says you want to get rid of the popcorn machine up front.”

  “Does that surprise you? It’s old and none-too-clean. And this is a retail store, not a movie theater.”

  “But people love the free popcorn.” It had been one of my favorite parts of coming here as a child.

  “It's a health code violation waiting to happen. And I’m not sure that stale popcorn is as big a draw as you seem to think.”

  It wasn’t stale. Or unsanitary. And the drinks couldn't be labeled as unclean since they were still in the cans. “What about the pop?”

  “I just told you—no popcorn.”

  “Soda pop.” Mentally, I rolled my eyes. How could he know what was best for Fayetteville when he didn’t even know what we called our carbonated beverages?

  “That’s out, too. Next?” He had a smug look on his face that was irritating. And hot. But mostly irritating. So much for his claim that he wasn’t going to change much around here. And okay, so he hadn’t made big changes yet, but he was hitting on all the little ones that were near and dear to Mr. Miller’s heart. And really, who were these things hurting? No one.

  Grimly, I went through the other things Mr. Miller was concerned about, my anger growing as I lost battle after battle. It was as I’d feared all along. The Happy Hearth & Home corporation was going to remake Miller’s until it had no personality left at all. Next, they’d probably even get the door to Storeroom C to stop locking people in. Well, okay, bad example, because that would be a good change. But most of the changes didn’t seem to have much value.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was ready to leave in defeat. But Aiden stopped me before I stepped out of his office. “John mentioned that you’re taking online courses. Hoping to get a degree in business?”

  “I have a degree in business,” I snapped. “I’m taking MBA courses in the evenings.”

  “Sorry,” he said, his eyes once again sweeping up and down my body. “That elf get-up makes you look younger than you are.”

  “That won’t be a problem for long,” I retorted. Not since today was the last day I’d be wearing it.

  “That’s true. Though there are a few things I’m going to miss about it.” His eyes were on my legs again. If I hadn’t been so annoyed, it would have been flattering to see the gleam in his eyes.

  “Like?” I prompted.

  His gaze lingered one moment longer, and then he looked me in the eye again, an unapologetic crooked grin on his face. “Like the sight of a tiny elf facing down three speed demons on a skateboard.”

  “Well, next time I almost get knocked on my ass, at least I’ll be wearing pants.”

  “Won’t be the same,” he said, almost to himself. “But, as I was going to say, if you ever need any help with your MBA classes, let me know. It’s been a while, but I remember the drill.”

  I wanted to say something sarcastic—like when he’d gotten his MBA, the internet hadn’t even been invented yet. Which of course wasn’t true, but seemed like a good jibe considering that he must be about fifteen years older than me. But then I hesitated. The offer had seemed genuine. And the glint in his eyes a minute ago, as he looked me over in my elf costume one last time, had hinted at a more playful side of him. A side I might like to explore if he wasn’t my boss. And my boss’s boss.

  Which was a damn shame. A man like that—a man who looked at me like that—didn’t appear in Fayetteville very often. Now one had, and he was a corporate stooge. And off limits.

  Too bad he was also hot as hell.

  5

  The battle lines had been drawn, and it was shaping up to be a bloody and brutal war. On the one side was Aiden with the might and power of the multi-billion dollar Happy Hearth & Home corporation on his side. Every day, something else in our store got “hearthified,” as I thought of it. The sections in the clothing store got renamed. I thought that Men, Women, Boys, and Girls was pretty self-explanatory, but apparently HH&H thought differently. And then our store stopped offering bargains on Wednesdays for senior citizens.

  The next thing to go was our system of discounting. No more sales. Instead, customers would have to get loyalty cards they’d flash at the register in order to get the sale prices. For the first few days, I was called to the register constantly to explain to customers that our making them swipe their card wasn’t so we could spy on them—though I wasn’t entirely sure that Happy Hearth & Homes wasn’t tracking them in nefarious ways. But I put out fires wherever I could.

  Mr. Miller and I were clearly on the underdog side of the battle line. The more things changed, the more upset he became. He’d taken over the store from his father over thirty years ago, and he was set in his ways. And I respected that. I respected him.

  He’d been a wonderful boss all these years plus something of an honorary grandfather to me. With my own parents out of state, he was my family. And it pained me to see him get more and more upset with each passing day. He wasn’t a young man, and the stress wasn’t good for him.

  The rest of the employees were somewhere in the middle. They, too, loved Mr. Miller. Pretty much everyone in town did. But some of the changes Aiden instituted benefited them. HH&H was a bigger company and could offer more benefits for employees than Miller’s was able to by itself.

  When I was around Aiden, I was torn. He was the enemy, that was clear. And sometimes he seemed like the devil, too. But other times, when he joked, teased, or laughed, it made me wish we’d met under different circumstances.

  Then something happened that did change the circumstances. A time-out of sorts.

  “What did you do after that?” I watched Aiden as he leaned back in the chair in the breakroom. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up at the elbows, and it was unbuttoned at the collar. He wore dark pants and looked amazing, as usual. Me? Not so much.

  Now that all the employees were back to wearing our normal work clothes, I was in a rather unflattering pair of black pants with a white long-sleeve t-shirt and a red vest over it. The vest still seemed a little Christmasy, but those were what we wore year round, so Aiden couldn’t complain.

  “I knew I could do better. If I worked hard, I mean,” Aiden said after a long pause. “My parents barely made ends meet. Growing up we had food on the table every night, but not a lot for the five of us. My dad was constantly switching jobs, sometimes by design, sometimes because he had to. He never stayed anywhere long enough to move up. So I know when I entered the workforce, I was going to choose a place, work my ass off, and rise to the top.”

  “And you have,” I said as I made notes on my laptop. My online class had required me to interview someone who had established him or herself in the business world. Mr. Miller volunteered when he heard about my assignment, but I knew his life story almost as well as I knew my own. Aiden was an unknown quantity, and even though I didn’t always agree with him—and even though I didn’t always like him—I thought I might be able to learn from him.

  “Thanks,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was still lost in thought.

  “Was Happy Hearth & Home your first job after graduate school?”

&
nbsp; “No. I did an internship somewhere else for six months. Got some experience. And then I interviewed all over. They offered me the best package, but I also thought I could help them grow and expand.”

  “Guess you did, because your company has stores everywhere except North Korea.”

  “That’s my next assignment,” he said. “I figure if I can help the stubborn folks in Fayetteville transition, then there’s nothing I can’t do.”

  A small smile emerged before I could help it. “Now that would be a challenge. Do you really travel all over, though? Never staying anywhere longer that three months?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Where’s home base?” I only asked for my report. Not because I was curious about his life. Or him. Yeah, right.

  “An apartment in Chicago.”

  “Is it nice?”

  “I’m rarely there. It’s fine, I guess, but it feels more like a hotel than a home.”

  I thought about that. It sounded lonely. He suddenly looked a little sad, too. Strange to see this big strong man who was used to barking out orders look vulnerable. I decided to lighten the mood. “So, in your professional opinion, we’re a stubborn lot?”

  “I wouldn’t say stubborn,” he said, finally focusing his gaze on me again.

  “You just did,” I reminded him.

  “That was off the record,” he said, frowning at my laptop, and I laughed. “But seriously… maybe loyal is a better word. Stubbornly loyal.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like us.”

  “Let me ask you something,” he said, and with his blue eyes fully on me now, I forgot to take notes on the computer. “What do your courses teach you about the qualities of a good leader?”

  “Hmm… knowledgable. Confident. Driven. Someone who’s a visionary,” I said off the top of my head. “And persistent and focused.”