In Love With Lucy (NSFW) (3 page)

Good, because the girls and I wanna know why he had his hands all over you at the showing on Friday.

I sighed and filled the reservoir in the coffeemaker with water. Shit. I didn’t want to have this conversation. The girls had arrived to the showing in time to witness Chris acting like a possessive jerk in front of Marcus and me storming off, dragging him behind me. Somehow they believed this was a good sign. I’d been ignoring their fishing expeditions via text all weekend. Now I was going to have to face the music.

I texted back,
Shut up,
and went about my business.

While the coffee brewed, I headed back to my office, threw my phone on my desk, and booted up my computer. I was in the process of checking emails, wondering where Chris was, when my phone buzzed again. I started to turn and reach for it, but jerked back and gasped when I saw my boss looming over my desk, looking ridiculously handsome in a black pinstriped suit.

He glanced down at my phone, then his eyes widened as he stared at the screen. I snatched it up to see that Tanya’s newest message was a picture of an enormous purple double penetrator dildo and her message read,
You are obviously in need of this.

While I wasn’t a prude by any means, I would never flaunt my sexuality in front of my very uptight boss. I blushed, silently and furiously cursing my fair skin. I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and shoved my phone in my purse then slammed it shut.

Without meeting Chris’ eyes, I turned back to my computer, mumbling, “Sorry. My friends are a tad inappropriate.”

I could feel him standing behind me, staring at my back, but I refused to turn around.

“Lucy.” His voice was low and deep and it made a shiver crawl down my spine. In the three years I’d worked for him, he’d never spoken to me in that tone, like something other than an employer.

Without facing him, I answered, “Yes?”

“Come into my office for a moment. I need to speak with you.”

I wanted to hunch my shoulders and tell him to fuck off because I was sure he was going to fire me now anyway. I’d already given my notice but I had just displayed inappropriate pictures on my cell phone on my desk, which was definitely against company policy.

“Now.” His tone brooked no argument and I heard his steps as he walked away. Apparently, I was expected to follow along like an obedient child.

“Will I need to take notes?” I asked.

“No.”

I pushed back my chair and smoothed down my skirt. I brushed past him into his office. I hesitated when he shut the door behind me. He normally left it open, but I figured this wasn’t a conversation he wanted the receptionist to accidentally overhear. What was unusual was the sound of the lock clicking.

I froze by the chair in front of his desk and faced him slowly. Nonchalantly, he removed his hand from the locked doorknob and came toward me, unbuttoning his jacket as he walked. I watched silently as he moved behind the desk and hung it on the back of his chair.

“Have a seat, Lucy,” he said softly.

Unsure of what to expect, I did as he told me. I crossed my legs, folding my hands in my lap to still the fine tremor that ran through them. For the first time since I started working for Chris, I didn’t feel as though I had control of the situation. As he came back around the desk, his expression determined, I understood now that I’d never met the real Chris Barden. The man who’d clawed his way out of a blue-collar background to be one of the richest men in Dallas by the time he was twenty-eight and, later, one of the youngest CEO’s at the age of thirty.

Now, he was thirty-five with the reputation for being formidable and ruthless. I was accustomed to seeing that side of him during business meetings and client consultations, but never had that look been directed toward me before. In fact, Chris had always studied me as though I were an amusing puzzle to be solved rather than a challenge to be conquered.

From the day of my interview, I always spoke my mind when dealing with Chris. He not only seemed to find it tolerable, but he also acted as though he appreciated it. However, under his current intense scrutiny, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

He leaned a hip against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “We need to talk about Friday.”

I straightened my spine. “Oh, you mean the showing? Thank you for coming, by the way. I hadn’t really expected you to.”

Chris leveled his icy blue eyes at me. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

I wanted to look away, but I wouldn’t. No way would I lower my eyes. Chris was an alpha through and through and he would pounce on any sign of weakness, exploiting it to his advantage.

“You mean when I said I quit?” My voice wanted to crack, but I controlled it. “I brought a hard copy of my resignation letter if it’s necessary.”

Chris’ jaw worked as he stared at me. “No, it’s not. Because I refuse to accept it. I will not allow you to quit.”

My mouth dropped open. “Pardon me?” I remembered that I couldn’t let him get the upper hand and brought my teeth together with a clack. “Did you decide to start smoking crack this morning? Whether you accept my resignation or not, I’m still leaving. Now, I’m willing to work my two weeks, but that’s it!”

“What if I offered you a twenty percent raise plus an extra two weeks of paid vacation a year?”

I blinked at him. That was a huge raise. Enough to tempt me. Then I remembered all the times he’d made me stay late or denied me time off. I also thought about my dreams and what I wanted to accomplish in my life. If I took the raise and stayed, there was no way I would have time to pursue them.

“No,” I said firmly.

Chris scowled ferociously. “I won’t let you leave.”

I frowned back at him. “Chris, you have a choice. Either I stay for my two weeks and help train my replacement, or I leave right now. I don’t need a good reference from you but I intended to stay because it was the right thing to do, however, I’m seriously reconsidering that decision at the moment.”

“Fine. If I can’t talk you into staying, then I do need to remind you of the contract you signed when I employed you clearly stated that you would give me at least one month’s notice, if not more. I will require you to work that amount of time or I will sue you for breach of contract.”

I felt my blood grow hot with anger. “What?” I yelled.

It wasn’t until Chris smirked that I realized I had given up the high ground in this battle. Hell, it didn’t matter because I was pissed off and he would be lucky if he escaped in one piece. I sucked a deep breath in through my nose, wrestling my temper into submission.

“Fine, you’re right. I signed the contract and I owe you four weeks.” I glared at him as I continued, “But I wouldn’t gloat too much, if I were you. As your assistant, I have the power to make your life extremely difficult while I’m still here.”

The demented man merely smiled at me with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. I vowed then and there to make sure that the next time one of his bimbettes dropped by uninvited, I would show her right in, even if he was in the middle of an important meeting. He hated when they arrived unnounced as if they were entitled to the right after a couple of dates. Though I couldn’t remember the last time a woman arrived unexpectedly to see him or even called the office. That struck me as odd.

He uncrossed his arms and straightened from the desk. “I wouldn’t dream of gloating,” he murmured, distracting me from my thoughts.

I rose, brushing the wrinkles from my snug dark green plaid skirt. My heart stuttered in my chest as Chris’ eyes followed the movement of my hands. I let my arms hang awkwardly at my sides as he looked me over head to toe, not once, but twice.

That morning I had paired the skirt with a crisp white shirt that buttoned down the front. I was wearing a sexy pair of black stiletto Mary Janes and black tights. It was conservative enough for the office, but definitely reminiscent of a Catholic school uniform. My girlfriends joked that I wore the outfit to torture men with thoughts about naughty schoolgirls, which was only partially true. I liked it because it wasn’t the same boring blue, black, or grey suit that every other man or woman in the building wore. I hated the monotone fashions that were popular amongst the corporate drones and I couldn’t bring myself to dress like that on a daily basis.

Chris’ eyes finally lifted to mine and they looked lazy. And sexy. “You look very….nice today, Lucy.”

I got the distinct impression he wanted to say something other than
nice
. In fact, his unspoken words hung in the air between us. I suddenly understood that Chris liked this outfit,
a lot
. As I recalled how often I wore this particular ensemble, I felt my face heat, something that had only begun to happen with him recently. I caught myself wondering if he imagined taking it off me as I had imagined removing his pinstripe suit one piece at a time, which I was ashamed to admit had been more than once or twice.

Mentally smacking myself on the head, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Thank you. Are we done here?”

Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and I realized that we were standing less than two feet apart. Much closer than he seemed a few seconds ago.

He nodded and his eyes were hot and full of sensual promise.

Biting my bottom lip, I slid past him, around the chair, and forced myself to walk sedately to the door. After I unlocked it, I thought I heard him say, “Not by a long shot,” but I was too busy trying to get away from the sexual tension in the room to be sure.

I headed straight for the kitchenette instead of my desk. I desperately needed to stick my head in the freezer if I was getting all hot and bothered over my freaking
boss
. Maybe I was in an alternate reality. That was the only explanation for the sudden magnetism between Chris and I. For the last three years, while I had appreciated the sheer beauty he possessed, it was nothing but business. Now he was looking me over like he intended to lick me from head to toe and my inner vamp liked it. A lot. The next four weeks were going to be hell.

T
he women at
my table during lunch were entirely too amused by my predicament. In fact, they were all laughing at me, which I did not appreciate.

Giggling hysterically, Tanya rocked back and forth in her seat. “Oh, you are in
so
much trouble. This is gonna be fun!”

I shot her a dirty look and focused on the other three bitches that were still laughing at me. “Why do you find this so funny?”

Grier, Chelsea, and Yancy all shook their heads, unable to speak.

Wiping her eyes, Tanya answered my question, “Be-be-because we’ve been telling you for the last three years that your boss had the hots for you and you ignored us. Hell, you ignored him, which I’m sure drove him crazy but now that he knows you’re leaving, I don’t think he’s going to go out of his way to hide how he feels anymore.” She paused, catching her breath. “In fact, I think he’s declared you fair game!”

I threw my hands up in the air, narrowly missing Yancy’s latte.

“Hey! You spill my coffee and I will cut you!” she cried.

I rolled my eyes at her coffee obsession. Although, to Yancy’s credit, she was raising an eighteen month old girl alone and she often claimed that copious amounts of caffeine were the only thing getting her through the day.

“I’ve told you a million times before and I’ll say it one more damn time. Chris Barden does not have the hots for me. I am his assistant. I am little better than office furniture.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t want to lie on top of all his office furniture, Lucy. Just you,” Chelsea quipped.

I snarled at her. “Shut up.”

Grier finally got her giggles under control. “Ladies, stop. Don’t tease her right now. Can’t you see this is freaking her out?”

The quietest of the five of us, Grier often saw things no one else did. She tended to hang back and gauge a situation only after she’d observed it for a bit. She was also right. I was freaking the fuck out.

Though my friends had insisted that Chris wanted to jump my bones for a while, I never saw it. It never occurred to me that my boss would be attracted to me. Hell, he didn’t seem to like me very much most of the time, always gruff, grim, and short-tempered. Not that I let him get away with it.

The few times I’d seen him laugh were usually in response to something silly I had done on accident or when I didn’t realize he was watching. Like the time I’d broken the heel off my favorite pair of boots walking into work on an icy day. I had been in the kitchenette, barefoot, prepping the coffee maker, and using the most colorful, inventive curse words I knew. I even threw in some swear words in French and German.

“I didn’t know you spoke German.”

I’d mouthed one more curse word, this one English and starting with an F, ending in a K, and turned around to face him. My boss stood in the doorway, still in his overcoat and scarf, briefcase in hand.

I sucked it up and answered, “I don’t really. I can swear in German, French, and Spanish, but that’s the extent of my linguistic abilities.”