Naughty Boss
Page 15

 Whitney G.

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“None of your business.” She turned to face me again. “And unless you want to be a third wheel, are you going to have Archer take you back to your Jaguar while we’re in the movies? We’re going to need the car for dinner later, and no offense, but you’re not good dinner company.”
“What’s his name?” I repeated.
“Taylor,” she said. “Would you like to know where he works and how old he is, too?”
“I would. Tell me.”
“He’s an analyst for ABC studios, and he’s twenty-seven. Happy?”
“He’s too young for you,” I said. “And at that age he doesn’t have any real rank in that company. You can do better than that.”
“You’re referring to yourself?”
“No, I’m the best,” I said. “But you can at least do better until you realize that.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, but she didn’t say anything further.
“And if this is the guy from the email with the subject heading, ‘It’s Been A Week And He Hasn’t Called or Texted Me At All’, then you probably already know I’m right. No man in his right mind would wait a week to call you, unless he was your boss that is.”
Her cheeks turned bright red and her jaw dropped.
“We’re here, Miss London,” her driver said, pulling in front of the theater.
Mya unbuckled her seatbelt and waited for him to open the door.
I walked ahead and held the door to the theater for her, following her as she walked toward the ticket counter.
“I’m only picking up two tickets,” she said to me. “You’re not really going to follow us into the theater are you?”
“No, but I’ll wait until he actually appears if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind.”
“Tough shit.”
“Fine.” She picked up her tickets from the clerk and I followed her to a couch in one of the theater’s private lounges. She pulled her phone out of her purse and smiled at the screen. “He says he’s in traffic but he’ll be here in twenty minutes. I’ll be sure to tell you all about our night at work tomorrow since you’re so concerned.”
“I’m not concerned at all, but thank you for confirming that you’re coming to work tomorrow.”
“You’re not worried he’ll compare to you?”
“We’ve discussed this. No one compares to me.” I smiled. “And you know that. You also know that you have no desire to fuck him tonight because I’m willing to bet you’re still thinking about fucking me. This is either a pointless date you’re too scared to cancel, a ploy to make me jealous, or both.”

She blushed and looked down at her phone.
Fifteen minutes passed and she didn’t look up again. She simply refreshed her phone’s screen again and again.
I looked at my watch. The movie was due to start in ten minutes and her date was a no-show.
Her phone suddenly buzzed in her lap and she smiled, tapping the screen. She held it up to her face, her smile fading by the second.
She typed a few words, and then she looked at me. “He said something came up so...Okay. You can go ahead and make me feel like shit now. I’ve missed it at work, so now you can apply it to my personal life I guess.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know, tell me how dumb I was to invite a guy who previously stood me up twice, instead of letting him ask me out. And then you can say how dumb I was for wasting my time getting all dressed up, trying my best to make you jealous—”
I cut her off with a kiss, softly biting her bottom lip until she moaned. Until she stopped attempting to talk and gave in. “Let’s go.”
 
 
THE ASSISTANT

Mya Manhattan, New York
I sat still in the passenger seat of Michael’s Jaguar as he drove, still in shock that he’d demanded to spend the rest of the night with me. He’d asked my driver to take us back to the restaurant to retrieve his car, to ensure we had complete privacy for the rest of the night.
I wasn’t sure why, but when he looked over at me at a stoplight, I couldn’t help but think that a part of this felt right. That when he wasn’t being my boss—even for a split second, he was more than likeable.
“It’ll be pretty hard to get a reservation at this hour in New York City,” I said, finally breaking the silence.
“We don’t need a reservation for where we’re going.”
“I’ll take your word for it, but for the record, I need to apologize in advance.”
“For what?”
“Because since you’re just assuming I’ll like where we’re going instead of being a gentleman and asking me,” I said. “I’m a very picky eater and I’m allergic to a lot of things.”
“I’m aware.” He turned right at the light. “You don’t like seafood, you only eat chicken if it’s prepared a certain type of way, you’re lactose intolerant yet you still eat certain types of cheese, and if you would like, I can break down an entire list of random shit that seems to make you sick for some reason.” He looked over at me. “Would you like me to?”
I shook my head, stunned.
“Good,” he said. “I didn’t ask because I don’t have to, because contrary to what you may think of me, I do pay attention to you. Are you going to give me a chance to be nice or are you going to spend the night acting like we’re at the office?”
“I’ll give you a chance...”
“Good.” He placed his hand on my exposed thigh. “Because I’ve been trying very hard not to fuck you since you showed up at dinner tonight, so the second you want me to stop trying, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
I blushed and leaned back in the seat, staying quiet for the rest of the ride as he steered through the snow-lined streets.
Thirty minutes later, he pulled into the turnaround of a high rise tower. Valet approached his car and he walked over to my side to open the door for me.
He pressed his hand against the small of my back, and as the doorman opened the door for us, he looked down at me and whispered. “Did you really wear that dress to make me jealous?”
“Depends. Did it work?”
“Very much so.” He led me up a short flight of steps and onto a glass elevator that faced the bright and glittering lights of Manhattan.
We rode it all the way to the top level, and the second the doors gave way, a waiter greeted us and gestured for us to follow him into a private room.
A hearth blazed warmly in the corner, and there was only one table in the center that faced the floor to ceiling windows.
The waiter smiled and took our wine orders before disappearing.
“Is this place normally set up for private dinners?” I asked.
“Not at all.” He looked at me. “But I don’t think either of us would like to be spotted together right now, considering our relationship.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want people thinking I slept with the ‘Naughty Boss’ or Tabloid CEO to get my job.”
“Me either.” He looked amused. “When are you really coming back to work?”