Millionaire Romance: In Love With My Boss - A Contemporary Romance (Millionaire Romance, Contemporary Romance, Comedy Romance Book 1) (3 page)

Jennifer closed her eyes and forced several more breaths. She wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed and didn’t care. After the compliments Andrew had just given her, she didn’t want to destroy her image with him. The interview went both ways.

In a second she turned and pulled up a smile, meeting Andrew’s eyes readily. He looked her up the length of her full frame as she approached the table. The closer she neared, the more he smiled. It was a sexy smile that hinted of experience he could share with her.

“Please forgive that interruption, Mr. Wiles,” her voice had returned to the silky smooth liquid it was known for.

“You can call me Andrew,” he responded, voice still as deep and alluring as before her phone call, only now, the sound seemed to stretch towards her very soul and smooth the wrinkles in her anger out. “Everything all right?” He watched her carefully.

She nodded and broke the eye contact. Using the brief moment to replace the phone into her clutch, she tapped into her game face, the one she wore when it was time to put her little girl aside and play with the big dogs. She met Andrew’s gaze and she wet her lips.

“We were speaking about your interest in the Melone Group. Tell me about it,” she picked up where she left off and took another deep, calculated intake of air.

Andrew didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve been tracking the Melone Group for quite some time. I know who your partners are and your biggest competitors keeping you from hitting the firm’s real potential.”

Jennifer smirked and raised a brow. “That’s a killer line, but be more specific.”

“Dolls Kill, Adore Me, and Rocket Panda,” he paused, smiling as Jennifer’s smile faded. “They’re your biggest and Seogen in Denver will finally help you crack that half a million dollar ceiling of retained clients.”

A chuckle rumbled from Jennifer. She didn’t even try to hide it. Andrew had definitely done his research on the firm. She wasn’t easily impressed, having sat with many men who thought they were just as fancy as the previous peacock. With a firm nod, Jennifer allowed the soft chuckle to grow into a full smile.

“How do you feel about joining me for our bi-annual benefit tomorrow and then again on Wednesday for a flight to Denver? We’d like you to be present at our meeting with Seogen on Friday.”

Andrew’s face hardened. He looked past Jennifer towards the door. “Melone isn’t coming is he?”

Jennifer swallowed and shook her head. “No, I’m afraid he’s not.” She took a deep breath and cursed the fact that James hadn’t given her more details.

After a stalled second, Andrew sighed; a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. “Just like Melone,” he grumbled.

“Is this going to be a problem?”

He shook his head quickly. “No,” his smile returned promptly to his gorgeous face, “not at all.” A passing waiter stopped and immediately began to refill both glasses. A look towards Jennifer was a quiet question of whether or not they were ready to select an order.

“We’ll take the menus now,” she said to the water. They nodded. She reached for the hardback bi-fold menu, using the structure to shield her eyes momentarily from Andrew so she could breathe. His intellect was something the company could use, but James would have to get his act together to keep this self-made man around she mused. He was something to look at and the way he gave her his full attention made her senses tingle.

“Do you know what Melone has in mind?” James asked after ordering. His voice was the first to break the silence once the waiter retreated.

Jennifer re-crossed her legs and looked towards her manicured nails. She knew the company was worth at least a quarter million in stocks and investments, but beyond that, there was no telling how much James would want the partner to pay for a buy-in. Did he really expect her to seal the deal by herself?

“A trial run.”

“With the biggest client to lay eyes on the Melone Group?” Andrew frowned. “Is he serious?”

Jennifer swallowed tact in her throat. She couldn’t agree more with Andrew. James was making a huge mistake ditching the biggest meeting the company had ever seen. She needed to think of a lie, but nothing came to mind.

Instead, she swallowed again and reached for her glass. Her eyes stayed with Andrew’s as she tried to wash the gritty sand down from her throat. When she finished, all she could manage was, “I have faith in James.” She gripped the handle of her glass tightly. “I’m sure he’s already discussed his inability to attend the meeting in person with the board.”

Andrew’s face changed under the dim light. “You’re sure?” He asked with a smirk. “Sounds like you don’t know.” His tone changed suddenly, “Does James make a habit of this?” Jennifer found the strength to produce a smile and shook her head. “And the benefit speech?” He asked. Jennifer forced the smile to grow, showing clenched teeth and a taut jaw.

Andrew barked out a laugh and shook his head in what Jennifer could only assume was disbelief. He took a deep breath, his shoulders heaving up and down. “You must be one hell of an assistant.” He ran his eyes over her body, taking his time before he met her eyes. After a moment, he asked rather curiously, “Will I get one as beautiful as you?”

The question threw her off guard. She choked on the thought and sputtered. Leaning forward, she sat the glass in her hand down quickly.

Andrew laughed again. “I didn’t mean to fluster you,” he said quickly, watching Jennifer regain her composure.

She fanned her face and glanced around. Her eyes darted to the glass doors separating the two sections of the restaurant. A part of her still hoped that James would be just around the corner. After a breath of pause, she let out a visible sigh. No one passed through the doors except the maître d’ escorting a couple to a table.

Turning back to Andrew, Jennifer let her smile drop. “Do you like to fly?”

Chapter Four

Perfect at Everything

HER FINGERS TINGLED, and her face flushed with heat as she read the letters from her most recent text: [I can’t thank you enough for this. You’ll be great. Talk to you in Denver.]

Not only was James taking no responsibility for the way he penned his benefit speech on her, but now, without saying it, he was requesting that she no longer initiate communication until she—
they—
landed in Colorado. Jennifer’s jaw clenched so tight, her fingers squeezing the phone
so
hard, that her knuckles turned white, and she would have sworn she tasted a hint of blood in her mouth.

With a shaking hand, she slid the phone into her clutch and sat up, startled by the sudden eruption of applause from around her. Someone touched her elbow.

“That’s you, Miss,” a directed whisper shot into her ear.

Seconds later, Jennifer felt the heat from several hundred eyes staring at her. She stood, her eyes taking in the length of the hardwood floors of the loft at the Ravenswood Event Center. Another round of applause began once she stood. Without hesitation, she lifted a hand, nodding with the approval.

Jennifer left her clutch on the chair and made her way past the throng of immaculately decorated tables and waiting catering staff to the constructed stage. She took the three steps that rose to the raised platform slowly, feeling her heart beating wildly within her chest. This wasn’t a part of her job description, and she didn’t appreciate one bit.

The announcer, one of the organization’s board members, clapped once Jennifer’s stilettos touched the stage. Over the roar of the audience, his clap alone seemed to assault her ears the most. He pulled her into a strategic hug and kissed her cheek politely before handing her the microphone.

Jennifer turned to watch the man go. Just to his right, below the stage, she searched for a technician’s eye and nodded. He made a movement with his arm, signaling someone, and a large white projector screen began to descend, the electrical hum audible over the crowd.

Facing the crowd, Jennifer smiled. With the lights on her face, she couldn’t single out any specific face. She blinked beneath the light, her gut tightening. Her mind was a racing blur of thoughts she couldn’t quite make sense of. She would have liked to see at least one familiar face, but there was only a strange shroud of blurred faces staring back at her. She took another heaving breath and decided to begin.

“I must offer you my deepest apologies that the creator and founder of Hope’s Foundation, James Melone, is unable to grace you with his presence directly,” Jennifer felt the wobble in her voice. Her palms were sweaty. She blinked and struggled to swallow back dryness caking to her throat. Her eyes began to adjust to the lighting. “While the tech crew prepares my presentation, I want to talk a bit about Mr. Melone, his vision, and the purpose of this benefit.”

Jennifer glanced over her shoulder. The screen was half down. Turning back to the audience, she considered making use of the podium. Instead, she gripped the microphone in her moist hand and began to walk slowly to the right side of the stage. She stopped scanning the audience and focused on the row of tables closest to the stage.

“I first met Mr. Melone about six years ago,” she began. “Back then, he was just another young man with a lot of money and too many women knocking on his door.” The crowd laughed. Jennifer lifted her head; her smile began to poke through. “We bumped into each other at a coffee shop—of all the places, and no,” she chuckled, “it wasn’t Starbucks.” The audience rumbled lightly with another wave of delight.

Feeling the anxiety pass, Jennifer found the strength to her voice. She thought back to the day she first met Melone. He carried strength and confidence in a way that no other man with his assets had, at least of what she’d seen. “Melone wasn’t like other young entrepreneurs with a lot of money. He had plans—dreams.”

Jennifer turned to pace in the opposite direction. She glanced towards the audience and saw them following her movements with their eyes. “I’m going to tell you something not many people know about Mr. Melone. He didn’t hop on the create-a-foundation bandwagon for tax write-offs,” she shook her head and paused, facing the audience directly. She no longer saw faces in the mix of dust and overhead lights. “He created Hope’s Foundation because he saw it was what Chicago needed.”

Silence began to drop at the audience hung on Jennifer’s words. The white screen had finished lowering over a minute ago. At the podium was the remote. She went towards the control and lifted it into her hands. Within seconds, a large picture of a young black child with round cheeks was displayed. The audience seemed to gasp as they saw that Melone’s rough face and thick body cradled the child in his arms.

Jennifer let the image sink in. It was a little girl, and she was bleeding from the right side of her stomach. “How many of you remember the tragic events of May 14
^th
, 2009?” There was silence. Jennifer nodded and pressed the remote, the image changed to rubble, smoke, EMTs and police officers sifting through debris.

“That’s because it was mentioned once in the news, and then glossed over to talk more about job loss, the falling rates that didn’t seem to be slowing down,” she motioned with her hands, “and the terrible status of the economy.” Jennifer straightened her back and took a deep breath. “No one seemed to care about the tragedy that happened in the outlying poorer sections of Chicago that day.”

“On this particular day, however,” Jennifer switched to another picture, “Melone was a just outside of downtown.” She paused and smirked, “He was doing some scouting for property on his own and got lost.” She heard a few suppressed chuckles from the ground. “He pulled over to check his GPS for and heard some shouting. Screaming,” she switched to another picture of the scene.

“A medium-sized company had just announced days before that it was closing five of its most essential stores in the inner city Chicago area. Thousands of the working poor were going to lose their jobs.” Jennifer faced the audience again, stopping the streaming images on a picture of Melone speaking with an officer. He was in jeans and a collared shirt but wore the look of a weathered new age hero.

“A peaceful protest outside these stores turned violent after a couple of days of getting nowhere. People became hostile. Crowds began to run,” Jennifer approached the podium again. “People, older women, men, children, mothers, and fathers were trampled.” She could tell she had their full attention. “Fires were started and fire hydrants released. Emergency services took more than thirty minutes to arrive and Melone, just blocks from one store, was able to help kids get to safety.”

Jennifer half turned towards the image still on display. Melone’s face was partially covered, but she could still envision his soft, baby blue eyes full of compassion and determination. “The media painted these people as animals, trampling their young,” she mocked, “but Melone was there. He saw the desperation. He saw their need.” She paused for effect.

“If he could have given a billion dollars to the blocks with the most damage that day, he would have done it in an instant and not batted an eye. But he wanted to do more than help repair and rebuild,” she nodded at the strength behind her words. “He wanted to help instill hope and peace to these hurting, forgotten families of our beloved Chicago.”

The audience began to clap. She saw some wiping their faces. “You see, these people don’t have hard skills to get better jobs. They rely on minimum wages to feed families of five or more.” Jennifer ran a hand through her hair, pushing it off her shoulders. “Melone saw they needed direction to be better, and so Hope’s Foundation was born.” She clicked to the next image, a photo of the grand opening of a physical location of Hope’s Foundation. Melone stood with a crowd of supporters, commissioners, and the Mayor’s office with a pair of large scissors and huge red ribbon.

“Over the past two years since the creation of Hope’s Foundation, five different programs have been created and formed to help late adult education and skill specific training. We’ve given over a million back into the community that has increased the city’s low-wage earners’ potential to earn better jobs—and many have.” Jennifer pressed the remote.