Grumpy Boss, Hamel, B. [free novels to read TXT] 📗
Book online «Grumpy Boss, Hamel, B. [free novels to read TXT] 📗». Author Hamel, B.
“So, what, you want to sleep with me? Right here and now? Then we can go into the office and talk to Jack?”
“That’d be perfect,” I said, glancing back toward the couch. “We can do it there, or in the bedroom if you prefer, I’m not picky. Shower would be fun, or maybe right here—“
“Rees,” she said, cutting me off, her tone like ice. “I’m not having sex with you. Not now, not ever. I signed up to play my part, to be your nice little assistant, to pretend like we have a relationship, but I’m not really going to bed with you. Do you hear me?”
I looked back at her slowly, eyebrow arched. “I hear a lot of denial. And I still feel the tension.”
“Oh my god, you’re impossible.” She turned away from me, visibly angry, and I couldn’t help but laugh. She was adorable, fighting this as hard as she could, but I wasn’t kidding around. If we could fuck and get it done with, all that tension would be cut—and it’d be a quick way to jumpstart some attachment and intimacy between us.
But I could tell she was uncomfortable with this whole thing, so I let it drop, and walked around the counter to get some coffee. She gave me a look as I did it, but directed me to the cabinet with the mugs, got me some milk, and joined me back out in the living room on the couch.
“Here’s the deal,” I said, stirring my coffee, then taking a sip. It tasted bitter and harsh, but coffee was coffee, and it did the job. “You understand the SPAC part of all this, right?”
“Vaguely,” she said, shaking a hand side to side. “I mean, enough.”
“All you need to know is, this company needs investors, and we have a month to pull it off. Three weeks, really, at this point.” I let my eyes drift down to her long, lean legs. They were distracting. I needed to concentrate, but her thighs made me want to keep flirting with her instead.
“Where do we start?” she asked.
“New York,” I said, forcing myself to meet her eyes. “There’s a man, his name is Mirko Poma. He’s from Norway, made his money in oil, and now he’s something of an eccentric investor. Likes to take big risks that sometimes pay off and sometimes don’t.”
“How do you know him?”
I took another long sip of coffee. “He’s the sort of man everyone knows,” I said. “We’ve run in the same circles for a few years now, know the same people, like to take the same bets. He didn’t come on board at first because the SPAC game isn’t typically something he’s into, but I’m taking another crack at him, and I need you to help convince him.”
“I’ll do whatever I can,” she said, leaning back against the couch and staring down at the rug with this pouty stare. I had another sudden urge to touch her leg and stood, pacing away toward the opposite wall.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” I said. “This afternoon, we’ll get you acclimated, introduce you around the office, make a big show of it. So I need you to get changed and ready.”
“Right now?” she asked.
“Right now,” I confirmed, and gestured toward her bedroom. “Or can’t you get dressed with your boyfriend in the apartment?”
She rolled her eyes again and I got the sense she’d be doing that a lot, but she got up and went into her bedroom. She didn’t close the door, and I stayed in the living room, able to catch glimpses of her as she moved around. I watched her take off her top, saw the side of her breasts as she turned away, and I felt a sudden jolt of desire—it was one of the most erotic things I’d ever seen in my life, and I’d only gotten a small glimpse of her round, full breasts. I tore myself away from the door, and started speaking just to fill the silence, and to keep myself under control.
“Mirko’s an odd one,” I said, speaking loudly so we could hear. “He won’t make this easy on us, I can promise you that. He likes to mess around with me, and once he gets wind that we’re together, he’ll be merciless. Try and keep your distance, if you can, and don’t let yourself get charmed by him.”
“I’m not easily charmed,” she said, then appeared in the doorway, half-dressed wearing a navy button down blouse, the front open to reveal a hint of her chest and her bra. “How’s this?”
I stared at her and god damn it, she was doing this on purpose. But I nodded and gestured in her direction. “That’s fine.”
She smiled and dipped back into her room. “What’s our story then? I’ve been your assistant for a while?”
“No,” I said, pacing again, thinking about her body, her lips. “You’re new, just like in real life. We met through Lori at some party, she wouldn’t even remember the one, and started seeing each other after that. We’ve been secreting dating for a month now, and I hired you as my assistant to keep you closer.”
“Is that a good idea, bringing Lori into this?” She appeared at the door again, this time her top buttoned, and a pair of slacks added to the ensemble.
“It won’t matter,” I said. “There was a party a month ago, and Lori did attend. For all she knows, we actually met there. She won’t have to lie if she says she doesn’t know for sure, or if she can’t remember.”
She made a dubious face, and I could tell she had a problem with my story. Typical lawyer—she wanted to make it her own, and probably thought she could come up with something more airtight. But damn it, Jack and I spent a lot of time on this cover, and I knew it would be perfect. It was plausible, and while it tangentially involved Lori, she
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