Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance (6 page)

Read Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance Online

Authors: Michelle M. Pillow

Tags: #Romance, #Erotic Fiction, #Adult

BOOK: Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance
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For a long time, he breathed hard, opening his eyes to watch the passing buildings. Jackson righted his clothing, knowing he had to get himself under control. Masturbating in a limo wasn’t his style. He pushed all sexual thoughts from his mind and grabbed his cell phone. Only when he’d regained complete control over his thoughts did he punch in number five on his speed dial. It didn’t take long before the call was answered by his assistant’s enthusiastic voice. ‘Jackson! I didn’t expect to hear from you again for a few days. Don’t tell me you aren’t coming home. You know it will kill Tommy if Uncle Jackson isn’t here for his birthday party. We have the whole day planned.’

‘No, I said I’d be there and I’ll be there. I haven’t missed one yet, have I, Callie?’ Jackson laughed, thinking of his three little nephews. Callie wasn’t only his assistant, but his sister. ‘I’m actually coming home today.’

‘That’s great news. I’ll tell the family and we’ll have a big dinner tonight.’ The soft accent of her words made him feel safe.

‘That’s not why I called,’ Jackson said. ‘I need to talk to your husband. Is Bob there?’

‘He’s out back carrying on with Mr Davis about lawn-mowers or Weed Eaters. The old coot was up before dawn mowing his lawn. Amazingly, I was up at that time searching the internet databases for your Ms Matthews.’

‘Sorry about that,’ Jackson said.

‘That’s all right. It is what you pay me for, little brother.’ Callie laughed. ‘I know a drunken man when I hear one. Why do you need Bob? Is something the matter?’

‘Not really. I just have to fire him from the restaurant.’ Jackson paused, waiting to see if he would get a rise out of her.

She sighed, clearly unconcerned. ‘What did he do now? Is this about the industrial-sized pickles? I asked him to bring them. We’ll pay for them and for the ketchup.’

Jackson laughed, watching the tall buildings pass in the early-morning light. Streaks of gold and magenta raced over the glass fronts. ‘I don’t care about the pickles. I told ya’ll to take whatever you need.’

‘Then, what is this about? You’re not really firing him, are you?’

‘Just for a few months. I need the chef position for someone else. Don’t worry about your bills, they’ll be covered. In fact, if he takes the time off, it’ll be doing me a great favour.’ Jackson knew he’d have to explain why, not
only
to Callie, but to the rest of his family. ‘I’ve hired a chef from here in New York. A real uppity piece of work.’

‘Ah, so this is why you had me looking up Chef Matthews at two in the morning.’ Callie instantly drew the connection, not that it was too hard. ‘If she was so bad, then why’d you hire her?’

‘To teach her a lesson.’

‘Sounds like more work for you than her.’

‘She insulted me, my accent, my heritage and I’m pretty sure several other things I can’t clearly recall right now. I’ve just had it with these rude, arrogant people who think they’re better than everyone else.’

Callie hummed thoughtfully. ‘You’re telling me you lost your temper and offered her a job in your favorite restaurant?’

‘It’s complicated.’

‘Sounds like it is twelve beers too many complicated, if you ask me.’ Callie hummed softly, as if suppressing a chuckle.

‘Perhaps,’ he admitted. ‘I was interviewing Contiello and he went on and on about how she tried to steal his recipes and ideas only to come on to him and how he had to fire her. The guy’s a real jerk. I’m not sure how much I believe of his account of things, but then she wasn’t the nicest person either until she found out who I was. As soon as she heard my name, she became all sweet, begging for a job.’

‘So, what I’m hearing is, you were drunk.’

‘Yeah. But I was also fed up with the nonsense. These people are only nice if it suits their purpose. So, I’m giving her what she asked for – a job in her very own restaurant.’

‘That poor child. You are going to put some city girl in
that
diner?’ Callie clucked her tongue in disapproval. ‘By the way, little brother, you’ll be happy to know there wasn’t much information on her. I saw her name listed in a website for some restaurant named
Sedurre
in New York, but nothing else. She’s not in any of the normal publications. Want me to check schools and the obscure media listings?’

‘No, that won’t be necessary.’

‘She cute?’

Jackson didn’t answer.

Callie chuckled knowingly. ‘When do you need him out by?’

‘Couple days.’

‘I’ll let Bob know he’s taking me and the boys on a mini-vacation.’ Callie laughed again. ‘And don’t you dare offer to let him use your fishing cabin. I’m going to stay in a place with sheets and cable.’

‘You’re not going to give me hell about this?’ Jackson asked, surprised.

‘Oh, I have plenty of opinions about this, but I figure it’s best to mind my own business and leave you to yours.’

‘Since when?’

‘Since you said she was pretty and I know you need all the dating help you can get. And you are my employer giving me a paid vacation.’ A series of sounds came across the phone from his sister’s house. He heard his nephews running behind her, shouting something about a turtle in the yard.

‘It’s not like that,’ Jackson said.

‘Sure thing, Jacky.’

‘Stop calling me Jacky,’ he ordered, annoyed by the childhood nickname.

‘Then stop making it so darn easy to aggravate you with
it
, Jacky,’ Callie said. ‘Now, I have to go – something about a giant turtle getting ready to battle a neighbourhood cat.’

‘Hug the boys for me.’ Jackson sighed with longing, trying to catch his nephews’ voices.

‘Call me when you get back,’ Callie ordered. He heard her talking to the boys in a firm voice before the phone connection clicked off.

‘Are you sure I’m not bothering you, Kat?’ Zoe held her cell phone to her ear, staring at the old suitcase slowly being filled with her clothes. All the chef uniforms were neatly folded, taking up most of the space. Folded and rolled T-shirts lined the edges, crammed in to utilize what was left. ‘I know it’s early.’

‘No, I’ve been up for an hour. The baby is fussy,’ Kat’s tired voice answered before she yawned. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m going to South Carolina,’ Zoe said, still a little awed by it herself.

‘Things that bad? Did Contiello do something last night after we left?’

‘Nothing out of character.’ Zoe took a deep breath, shoving jeans in to make a new layer across the top of her pile. ‘I talked to Jackson last night and made a complete ass out of myself.’ Zoe quickly told her sister everything from him asking for a receipt to the strange interview, finishing with, ‘What do you think?’

‘I think you’re going to go down to South Carolina and wow the crap out of Mr Levy with your talent.’ She could practically hear her sister grinning. ‘How can he not be impressed with you? I even bet he offers you a bigger restaurant before everything is said and done. And I don’t want you to worry. I’ll take care of everything here. I’ll deal
with
your landlord and see about getting you out of your apartment so you don’t have to pay rent.’

‘But what if I fail?’ Zoe swallowed nervously.

‘You won’t fail,’ Kat said. ‘You’ll be great. Just make sure you call me as soon as you get there. If it looks dangerous, you call me and I’ll have the Richmond private jet down there within an hour.’

Zoe laughed. ‘Quit trying to find excuses to use the family jet. It’s Jackson Levy. I hardly think the job is going to be dangerous.’

‘I don’t know, sis. Jackson was pretty cute and that can always be dangerous. Feel free to mix business with pleasure, just call me after with the details if you do.’

Thoroughbred County, South Carolina

Zoe blinked rapidly, wondering how long she’d been asleep. Her head hurt from the rude awakening of hitting against the car window. Trees passed by her vision in a long blur of greens and silver. A thin veil of moss draped the limbs like long, tangled strands of gray-green hair drifting in a gentle breeze. Some reached as long as twenty feet and sprouted threadlike leaves. By the light, it was still morning, though how early was hard to tell. Because of her night schedule, she’d not slept well as she’d worried about making her six o’clock flight on time. Only after quitting her job and locking her apartment door for the last time did she realize she’d never really negotiated benefits and pay. She’d been so focused on becoming a chef. This opportunity was all that mattered to her.

‘I see you’re awake, ma’am. You were sawing logs there for awhile.’

Zoe sniffed loudly, embarrassed to be told she’d been
snoring
. At least it wasn’t moaning in sexual desire due to the very torrid dream she’d been having about Jackson. Though waking up took some of the dream from her, she remembered there being a lot of whipped cream and peaches involved.

She glanced at the driver, trying to remember the mumbled name he’d given her as she came from baggage claim to find him waiting with a cardboard sign with her name written on it in orange marker. Hands gnarled with arthritis gripped the wheel, as wrinkled as the old man’s face. Short, dark hair heavily peppered with gray covered all but the freckled balding spot at the crown of his head. ‘Where are we?’

‘About five miles outside of Dabery. Jacky boy asked me to drop you at Marta’s so you can get cleaned up before going to
Renée
.’


Renée
?’

‘You’re the new cook, right?’

Zoe sighed, hit by just how little she knew about her new job. She told herself it didn’t matter. Any restaurant would do so long as she had a chance to run her own kitchen staff, make her own menus and prove herself to Jackson. He had asked her about Cajun food and
Renée
sounded French. It wasn’t her specialty, but she could do it. She
would
do it.

‘Yes. I am the new head chef.’ Zoe lifted her chin, trying not to let her nervousness show. She had to keep a brave front, had to make everyone believe she knew she could do this when in truth she wasn’t so sure. What if she failed? What if Jackson hated her cooking? What if no one ate at the restaurant and she was the first Jackson Levy venture to fail miserably? She’d never get into another kitchen again.

‘You all right, ma’am?’ the driver asked. ‘You’re whiter than Sunday linen.’

More of the dream surfaced. Her body had been covered in cream and Jackson had decorated her with pieces of fruit before slowly eating his way over her body without his hands. The wave of desire that flooded her made her actually gasp in shock.

‘Fine,’ she lied. ‘It was a long flight. Can you tell me if Mr Levy will be there?’

‘Jacky boy? I don’t rightly know, ma’am. His sister called me and asked me to pick you up from the airport. She’s a good girl, that Callie.’

‘His sister lives here?’ Zoe asked in surprise. She really knew nothing about the man aside from his work reputation.

‘His whole family moved to Dabery when those Levy kids were just young children barely out of diapers.’ The man glanced at her through the rear-view mirror, smiling kindly as he gossiped. ‘They have lived here ever since, more or less. Jackson’s been good to this town and owns a place outside city limits. The baby of the family, Jefferson, left for awhile but is back now. And Callie, the oldest, settled with a local boy right out of high school. They have three boys now – Tommy, Sammy and Peanut – ornery little rascals.’

‘And his wife?’ Zoe probed, finding herself holding her breath. Peanut? Jackson had a nephew named Peanut?

‘No, ma’am, he never did marry. We keep hoping, but no wedding bells yet. Though Jefferson is engaged to a fine lady from Savannah. I met her at the church potluck a couple weeks ago.’

Zoe had a feeling she could get lots of information about Jackson from this man, but refrained from probing further.
Instead
, she turned her attention out the window. Trees thinned, opening up to a sloping valley. Nestled along the hillside were houses and farms, as beautiful as a painting. Horses grazed behind stark-white wooden fences, their sleek bodies gleaming in the sunlight. A red barn stood over a shorter brown building with black iron gates. Tall pines swallowed little trails that led off into their shadowed sanctuary, the limbs not as covered with moss as they had been earlier along the road.

‘This can’t be right. The restaurant is here? But this is …’ Zoe rolled down her car window, sticking her head out to look around. The smell of pine assaulted her, mixed with fresh air and dust. Eerie quiet surrounded them, punctured only by the sound of the car engine. To herself, she finished, ‘This place is too small.’

‘Is it done?’ Jackson asked, leaning against Mac’s car. He’d known the old man since he was a boy and Mac looked the same now as he had then, down to the arthritic hands. The only difference was a pronounced limp when he walked, the legacy of having fallen off a horse while drunk. Jackson made sure the man always had work with local stables and odd jobs around town.

‘Sure is, boss,’ the man said.

‘Good.’ Jackson discreetly handed the man a couple of hundred dollars before pushing up from his car. The warm spring air scented with wildflowers drifted from the forest behind Marta’s Twelfth Street Bed and Breakfast. Trails led from the back of the house into the oak and pecan trees, to a little pond and creek hidden from those not familiar with the area. Bass fishing, camping, hunting and hiking were popular pastimes for the residents of Dabery and they did not share their secret haunts with outsiders. It wasn’t
unusual
for people to see deer grazing along the tree line.

The bed and breakfast was over a hundred years old. Like most of the businesses in town, he’d owned it for a short time until the owners could afford to run it on their own. It was one of the few properties he didn’t make a small profit on, though he’d never tell Marta that. He would have been happy just to break even, but it was a matter of town pride that he earned something for his investment and he did not take their pride from them.

Stark-white siding with barn-red trim and green window boxes looked freshly painted. The front porch wrapped alongside the house, sporting wooden chairs with padded floral seats. In truth, the house should never have been a bed and breakfast, as it was too small, but he managed to make it work. Widowed and childless, Marta had no one. So Jackson encouraged her to use her strength, which was taking care of others.

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