Best of Penny Wylder: Boss Romance
Penny Wylder
Contents
The Boss Deal
Filthy Boss
Kiss Me Now
Contents
1. Misty
2. Misty
3. Nick
4. Misty
5. Misty
6. Nick
7. Nick
8. Misty
Epilogue
1
Misty
“What do you think of this?” Vanessa passes me half of a cupcake, and we both take a bite simultaneously. “Well?” she asks while still chewing. “It's cherry vanilla with a cream cheese frosting. Thoughts?”
“Do you really need me to tell you it's delicious?” I ask, popping another bite into my mouth. “It's fucking amazing, Vanessa.”
“Really?”
“Seriously, it really is.” Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I smile at her. “Is this going to be the cupcake of the month for April?”
She nods, leaning over and whispering to the girl behind her booth at the yearly cupcake convention. “Push this one, we want it to get an organic reach if we can.” The girl nods, and Vanessa grabs a napkin too, and wipes her fingers. “So, I've got some big news.” She smiles wide, flashing her perfect white teeth.
“Oh yeah, what's that?” I'm still licking cupcake off my fingers as we peruse the convention, checking out the competition.
It's the annual Baker's Dozen Convention in NYC, something Vanessa and I have gone to every year since college, and since we became partners in her business.
Vanessa owns a little bakery on the east side, Get Baked. It's the most popular bakery in all of NYC. There's a line out the door from the time it opens to the time it closes. People from all over the country come to get one of her cupcakes and I'm lucky enough to be the marketing expert that puts the spotlight on her.
“Well,” she says, cupping her hands and letting them fall in front of her waist as she turns to face me. “Get Baked is about to get a boost.” Her smile spreads from ear to ear, and she reaches out to take my hand. “We're expanding.”
“Expanding?” I ask, not sure if I hear her right. “What do you mean expanding?”
I know what it means. But it's like I need to hear her explain it, so I know this is truly happening. She's mentioned it before, but never had the cash to turn her dream into reality.
“Well, I reached out, took a big gamble, and I got an investor. The bakery has so much buzz right now, I thought why not try and branch out while we can. So, we're going to open up three more bakeries, two here in New York and one in New Hampshire.” She squeezes my hand and grins all giddy.
“Oh my God, are you serious?” She nods, her smile growing even broader. “Holy shit, Vanessa, that's incredible”
She wraps her hand tighter around mine. “There's more.”
“More?” She nods. “All right, well, spit it out, what is it?”
“I want you to manage all the marketing for the new stores.” She bites down on her bottom lip, lids squinting as she waits to see my reaction.
“Me?”
“Yes you, of course you, Misty,” Vanessa says as she chuckles. “Who else can do what you do? No one. You're half the reason the bakery is doing as great as it is. The other half is my incredible skills of course, but you're right there with me.” She gives me a playful nudge.
It's an easy decision for me, I don't really need to think about it at all. We're a team, and I'm not going anywhere.
“I'm in. I couldn't imagine not being a part of this.”
“There is one catch, though.” She thins her lips as she gives me a tight, awkward smile.
“All right, what is it?”
“You're going to have to work with the investor.”
“Wait, what? Why? Aren't you still the owner? Shouldn't it just be us?”
“Yes and no. The investor is really hands-on, and I don't blame them. If I was putting this kind of money into something, I'd want to be right there too. Don't worry, I still have the final say, and I'll still ask for your opinion. We didn't get this far by not knowing what we're doing.”
I'm quiet, and she senses my reserve. “Look, I don't need an answer right this second. Take a day or two, think it over. I’ll understand either way, no matter what you decide.”
I nod, giving her a genuine smile. “I don't need to think about it, Vanessa, I'm in.”
Her eyes light up with excitement as she starts to bounce in place. “This is going to be so incredible! We have to celebrate, let's go hit the town. What do you think? Want to go get shit faced in honor of our new adventure?”
“Hell yeah,” I say, balling up the napkin I'm holding and tossing it into a garbage can. “We've been here long enough, right?”
“Yeah, I think we can sneak away now. Sandy's going to close up the store, and Beth's going to finish up here. So,” she says, holding out her hands, “looks like I'm free tonight.”
We walk up Fifth Ave. and hit the little bar we used to love back in college. I'm genuinely excited about this new endeavor Vanessa is taking me on. Lately things have felt. . . stale.
Change will be good, and I get to do what I do best, put that shit on the map. All my experience with Get Baked is only going to help skyrocket the new stores to the top.
Vanessa pushes the door open to the bar and stops to hand her I.D. to the doorman, then steps inside and waits for me. I do the same, and once inside, she snags my wrist and starts to drag me to the bar.
“Slow down, the liquor isn't going anywhere,” I say, busting her balls.
“I'm here to celebrate, and so are you. We're not wasting any time.” Vanessa laughs out loud, bopping her head to the music as we push ourselves through the crowd.
The place looks the same as it did when we were in school. The walls are still covered in dollar bills that people stapled in place. They're tagged with names, years, hearts, and quotes. The chairs still have the same red leather seats, and the floor tiles are stained with shoe scuffs and years of dirt.
Gotta love a good dive bar.
Reaching the bar, Vanessa rests on her forearms as she leans in and orders our drinks. I lean my back against the edge, just looking out across the room.
Her hand jumps in front of my eyes, passing me a shot glass. “Thanks,” I say, taking it from her.
“Tonight is for us.” She raises her glass as she looks off like she's thinking. “To a fresh future,” she finally says, clinking her glass against mine, and downing the shot.
“To a fresh future,” I repeat back, sucking down the alcohol. The liquor burns as it goes down, and I hack loudly. “Wow, Vanessa, what the hell was that? Gasoline?”
“Ha! Not exactly.” She sets her glass on the bar, and orders two more. Passing me another shot, she says, “This is the Pickleback. It's whiskey and pickle juice. It not only tastes really fucking good, it gets you fucked up.”
“Well,” I say, waggling my eyebrows, “I wouldn't say it tastes good, but getting fucked up is why we're here, right?” Throwing the shot back, I let out a gush of air. “Whoa, that's strong.” My eyes close naturally, and I exhale a hot breath.
“Another round,” she tells the bartender, turning back to me. “I only have one rule for tonight—no work talk. Nothing. No talking about plans, or cupcakes, or those cute little sugar toppings we just got in. Nothing at all. Tonight we drink and enjoy ourselves. Sound good?” she asks, leaning into my ear, and speaking loudly so I can hear her over the music.
I reach back and grab shot number three, giving her a big smile. “Agreed.” The shot goes down a little easier this time, and I already feel the warmth in my belly as it begins
to spread.
Vanessa and I take shot after shot, and I eventually melt into a state of nothing but relaxation, which I'm welcoming with open arms. A little break will be good before we spread our wings.
Music pumps through the speakers, spreading through my muscles and causing my foot to start tapping. I'm bobbing my head, laughing and just enjoying this time. Grabbing Vanessa's wrist, I start to pull her.
“Come on, let's go dance.”
She digs her feet in a little and groans. “I'm not drunk enough for that yet, Mist.” She pulls back against me, leaning toward the bar.
“This was your idea, you brought this on yourself.” I pull harder, and she stumbles forward with a smile on her face. “It's time to shake that ass.”
She giggles and reluctantly moves with me to the center of the dance floor. “Fine, but only for a song or two.” Holding up her finger, she gives me a stern look.
“Fair enough,” I yell across the space between us as I start to move to the beat.
I take her hand and spin her around. We laugh and sway our hips, grinding against each other as we dance. Other people's bodies are bumping against us, and we're squished on the dancefloor. Neither of us care, though, we're just embracing the beat.
The air is hot, sweat is beading on the back of my neck and slipping down between my shoulder blades. My arms are up over my head, and I'm circling Vanessa, when a large man slips between us.
He sets his hands on Vanessa's hips and holds her as she grinds back into him. Her eyes peer back, and I can tell instantly, she's into this guy.
Her smile changes, and she licks her lips as she runs her fingers through her hair and throws her body upright. She slips back down, using her fingers to softly trace his outer thighs.
I keep dancing. She can have her fun over there, while I enjoy myself right here. The energy in the room is crazy. I feel the bass as it pumps through my chest, vibrating my ribs. Looking over, I see Vanessa and mystery man sucking face.
His hands are all over her body, her arms are around his neck. Tongues are licking and mouths are locking tight.
Stepping back, I make my way to the bar and ask for a water. My phone vibrates, so I pull it out and check the message.
It's Vanessa. 'Heading out with, Greg, you good?'
Tapping the keys, I message her back. 'It's cool, I'll grab a taxi.'
Looking out into the crowd, I catch Vanessa on the other side of the room. She mouths to me, asking me if I'm sure, and I nod, letting her know it's totally fine. Tonight is about having fun, letting loose, being free. Because tomorrow is the start of something new, and it's going to be a lot of work.
She bounces her brows from across the room, giving me one last chance to call her back. But I let her go, securely nodding, and making sure she knows I mean it. I'll be fine, I'm not going to hold her back.
Tapping the keys on my phone, I send her one last text. 'Be careful. Text me later to let me know you made it home.'
'If I end up going home.' She messages back, with a winking emoji face and an exploding head.
Shaking my head, I watch her as she heads for the door with mystery man, flashing me a big smile before disappearing through the exit.
Pulling my water in closer, I wave down the bartender. He finishes wiping down a few glasses then comes my way.
“What can I get for you?”
“Surprise me,” I say, sipping my water. “Make me your drink of choice, but make sure it's strong.”
Fuck it, the night's still young, and I'm not driving.
“You got it.” He gives me a smile and starts reaching for bottles of liquor.
Stirring the ice in my glass, I watch it spin in the water. It twirls and it twirls, bouncing off the sides. My belly is still warm from the shots, and now it's time for me to sit and sip.
The bartender slides the drink in front of me, and I pull a ten dollar bill from my pocket.
“Let me get this for you.” The man's voice is deep, heavy, and the words sit on my chest like a weighted blanket.
I don't look up right away, instead I clear my throat to make sure my voice has clarity. “Thank you, but I can take care of my tab.”
“Consider it a gift, then.” The man slips into the bar stool next to me, pushing my hand with the money down, and nodding for the bartender to take his instead.
Crooking my jaw, I drop the bill on the bar anyway. “Keep it as a tip then,” I say to the bartender, “because I intend on paying one way or another for myself.”
My eyes take in the man beside me. He's dressed nice, a little too nice for a bar like this. His gray suit has a light shine to it, causing it to shimmer under the strobe lights. The jacket is open, exposing a bright white button-up, but no tie.
Holy shit this guy is hot.
My eyes keep moving, across his solid torso and broad chest, up his thick neck, and over his chiseled jaw. There's a hint of a five o'clock shadow over his deep olive skin. He licks his lips and smiles coyly as my eyes move over his mouth.
But it's his eyes.
Fuck those green eyes. They wet my panties instantly and could drop me to my knees if he looks at me the right way. Crisp, bold, speckled with amber flecks and gold confetti, my heart instantly pauses in my chest for a full beat, and I hold my breath.
That breath, that breath lasts a little too long, and even he notices. The man chuckles, stroking his jaw with his thumb. “Breathe,” he says, bringing his glass to his lips as he takes the last sip of liquor inside.
Inhaling a deep breath, I feel the hot air as it fills my lungs. Snapping my eyes away, I stare into my glass. The man watches me, and I feel his eyes as they shift over my body.
The heat is what I feel most. He isn't just looking at me, he's deciding what he wants from me. His eyes leave stains on my skin. Like a burn you feel days later, I know exactly where his eyes have been.
My ass. My legs. My chest and face. His eyes are everywhere, and yet, I want more. I want him to keep going, to keep exploring, to stare at me with such need I can't help but feel paralyzed.
Swallowing hard, I try to firm my spine and keep it together. Because this guy doing things to me I can't control. My stomach fills with a million butterflies, and my heart starts to beat faster. My hands are clammy, and I feel my breathing coming short and shallow.
He's really fucking hot. Intimidating. Powerful.
The man begins to laugh, his head falling back hard as he runs a hand through his hair, his teeth brightly on display behind his smile.
I can't stop myself; I watch his muscles tighten under his shirt. Each one firms and ripples as his chest lifts with laughter, taunting me as if this is some sick game to see who will crack first.
I'm cracking. . . and I can't do anything to make it stop.
“You got a name?” he asks, letting his gaze slip to the other side of the room as if he's not watching me anymore. But he's watching, I can feel it.
“You got someplace else to be?” I ask, peering at him from the corner of my eyes as I sip the drink he paid for.
“Depends,” he says.
“Depends on what?”
“If you're going to be there or not.”
“Is that right?” Sitting up straight, I turn to face him.
He purses his lips and grins. “Could be, if you play your cards right.”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh. “I don't know where you get your lines from, but this is not the way.”
“No?”
“Um, no.”
“You sure? Because it seems to be working.”
“And what makes you think you even stand a chance with me?”
“Because if I didn't, you wouldn't still be sitting here.” He arches his brows as he takes a step closer. “Am I right?”
Shrugging a shoulder, I suck down the last bit of alcohol from my drink. I look into the empty glass and shake it so the ice clanks against the side.
The man bites his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. He nibbles it gently as h
e shakes his head up and down. “Another for. . .” He lets his words draw out as he takes the chance to try and steal my name.
“No, no names. Tonight is for reckless fun. Act first, ask questions later.”
Holding up two fingers, he says to the bartender, “Make that two.”
He places a glass in my hand and taps his against mine. “Are you toasting my irresponsible behavior?”
“No,” he says, lowering his face so his lips are almost touching the shell of my ear. “I'm toasting our irresponsible behavior.”
Maybe it's the alcohol talking, or the feeling that tomorrow my life's going to be different, either way, my cuffs are off.
Fuck it. Let it happen, don't push it away. That's why you're here!
Look at Vanessa, she's probably getting laid. You should too!
The devil sits on my shoulder, filling my head with reckless ideas. And I wait for the angel, I give the angel time to swoop down and tell me why this is a bad idea.
But the angel never comes. So, there's only one voice I'm hearing, and it's sounding very persuasive.
His cologne swirls through my senses, electrifying my nerves. I can't stop my eyes from closing, or my head from falling to the side as his lips graze my skin.
“Our. You say it like you already know how the night is going to end,” I grin as I say it, and run my fingers up and down the collar of his jacket. Closing the space between us, I lean into his chest. “I bet you think you're smooth, don't you?”
“Actually, I'm wondering if you're smooth.” His fingers brush the hem of my skirt, slipping underneath, and following my inner thigh up. “You know you still haven't told me your name yet.”
“You're right, I haven't, and I don't plan on it.” Licking my lips, I drop my eyes, and peer up at him under hooded lids. “Does that bother you?” I ask, running a single finger back and forth over his shoulder.
He smiles, watching every move I make. “Not at all, sweetheart, but that goes both ways. If you want my name, I'll only trade it for yours.”
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