Three Bosses’ Assistant: Love by Numbers Book 2

by Casey, Nicole

  Three Bosses’ Assistant

  Love by Numbers Book 2

  Nicole Casey

  Copyright © 2019 by Nicole Casey. All Rights Reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  Love by Numbers

  - A Reverse Harem Romance Series

  2 Billionaires in Vegas

  3 Bosses’ Assistant

  4 Ranchers’ Bride

  …to be continued

  Contents

  1. Sascha

  2. Ian

  3. Sascha

  4. Ryland

  5. Sascha

  6. Carson

  7. Sascha

  8. Ian

  9. Sascha

  10. Ryland

  11. Sascha

  12. Ian

  13. Sascha

  14. Ian

  15. Sascha

  16. Carson

  17. Sascha

  18. Ian

  19. Sascha

  20. Carson

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon: Four Ranchers’ Bride (Love by Numbers Book 3)

  1. Jada

  2. Seki

  3. Hank

  4. Jada

  Author’s Note

  Also By Nicole Casey

  About the Author

  Sascha

  It was 9:45, close to 10 when I needed to get ready to go to bed. I had just gone out for my nightly cycle, and with my compact, muscular arms, I lifted the bike over my head and into the house. Placing my bike near the front door, I took off my helmet and united my strawberry blond-hair from my high ponytail, dropping it to tickle my waist. My stomach indicated I was hungry, but my mind was concentrating on other things.

  I was finally going to interview with Calliope Publishing. You never really know what to expect from any new job, but in order to become a Junior Editor at a high profile company like Calliope you need to make a great impression to stay employed. I tried to psych myself up: I know I can get this job, I can nail it, I can relax.

  Opening the fridge, I took out all of the ingredients I was going to need for my morning shake. They helped keep my mind focused and I knew I was going to be too anxious, running around trying to get other things ready to be able to focus on making it in the morning. I figured if I made enough now, I could have a shake tonight as well to help satiate my hunger. I measured out my ingredients and started the blender, only just barely hearing my phone ring over the roar. I picked it up and brought it to my ear.

  "Hello?" I answered, but the whirling of the blender made whatever Erin was saying inaudible. "Sorry, hold on!" With my phone in my hand, I tried to turn the blender off.

  “Hello? Hell-o?” Erin yelled on the other end.

  “Yes, hey!” I laughed, “Sorry about that!”

  "What the hell are you doing?" She laughed along with me.

  Erin Bellose had recently graduated from law school with high marks. I was really proud of all the success she’d gained as a practicing lawyer. She was incredibly smart, really pretty, and more importantly, my best friend.

  "I’m just a little hungry," I said.

  "You should save some for me." she snickered "I’ll come over."

  "A little late for that." I chuckled.

  "Relax, you don’t have to keep apologizing," Erin remarked. She was right, I had an awful habit of apologizing, but I couldn’t help it.

  "Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but how’s it going with Jackson and Caleb?" I look a seat at one of my bar stools that hugged the counter-top. It was a modest kitchen, full of everything I needed and nothing more.

  It was just a week ago at our friend Greer’s Halloween wedding that Erin admitted to me she was considering entering into a polyamorous relationship with two men. We’d had a blast that week, spending a lot of time with our friend Hanna at a club on the strip called Overground. One day, she told us that the men who owned the club were both interested in her and she’d been engaging in some kind of a polyamorous relationship with them, but wasn’t sure if it was going to turn into anything or not. Apparently, one of the men had PTSD, but her feelings for them both was pretty strong; she even used the word ‘love.’ She’d been fairly tight-lipped about it since then, but curiosity got the best of me when I decided to ask. I was also anxious to know if she was finally over her ex.

  "Mmm,” she hummed. “I guess time will tell.”

  “Oh,” I replied.

  “No, it’s not bad, I just need to figure some things out.

  I felt my stomach turn over. “Braxton things?”

  Erin scoffed so loud I thought her spit was going to fly through my phone. "Who? Who’s that? I’ve never heard of a guy by that name." Erin laughed, and I laughed with her. Even if she was still figuring things out, she sounded happier and it was refreshing.

  "Well, I don’t really get being in-love with two people at once, but as long as you’re happy, I’m happy." Maybe my subtle prying would get more information out of her.

  "Honestly, I’m learning as I go too,” she replied. "Thanks for the support, Sascha."

  "Anytime." Even though I was happy for Erin, I needed to get in the shower. "Erin? Sorry but I have to go. Busy day tomorrow."

  "Oh right, you have that interview tomorrow, yeah?"

  "Yeah,” I said, even though just being reminded of it made me nervous.

  "I’ll let you go then. Good luck!"

  "You too!"

  I felt a pang in my stomach. Even though I was happy for her, I still wanted something like Erin had, even with just one man. We both said goodnight to each other, and after finishing my shake, I showered and tucked myself into bed at 10:00, sharp. As I laid there, I couldn’t help but wonder about a relationship with two men. It seemed sort of exhausting and like jealousy would play a role, but what did I know? I put it out of my mind and decided to make sure I was rested for my interview. It was my dream to get this job, and I wasn’t going to get it if I stayed up all night worrying about my friend’s relationship. I closed my eyes, snuggled into my covers, and drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  In the middle of the Las Vegas strip sat the high-rise building in which Calliope Publishing resided, a well-known publishing house that any editor would dream to work for. I looked up at the skyscrapers that seemed to shoot into the heavens. It made me feel small, but I bolstered myself with confidence that I was larger than all of that. It was time to nail it.

  I took a deep breath and stepped inside, taking one last look at the strip before entering.

  My hands started to shake as it was now beginning to feel real. My heels clacked on the marble floor that was so clean I could see my reflection in it. There I was, my Givenchy blazer paired with an A-line skirt. I could barely see my blouse when looking down because of my cinched waist and large breasts. I traced the lines of the marble tiles until I stared directly into my dark blue eyes. I looked good. I was ready.

  Soon I noticed myself being distracted by my own reflection, but I knew it wasn’t because of vanity. I really didn’t want to mess this up. Calliope Publishing only hired top-notch writers and editors, which meant that other
talented young interviewees had once walked these halls just as eager as I was. There must have been thousands of new applicants that clacked their own heels along this floor, excited for their first interview only to be rejected. They would never walk these halls again. That wasn’t going to be me though. The junior editor position went to the best of the best, and my grades and references meant that I had to be among the best, right? I wanted to be a realist, and not too cocky, but I really felt I had a shot at this.

  Looking ahead of me, I took in the room. It had the same floors, but besides the wall-to-wall windows that framed the room, there was little at reception except for some scattered, well-upholstered chairs and a desk against a floor-to-ceiling accent wall that was labeled with “Calliope Publishing” across it. Beyond the accent wall, I could see a reading nook if I really crooked my neck, but there didn’t seem to be anyone sitting there. I also noticed that besides myself, there was no one else in the room. No other guests, no assistants, and no receptionists; all I could hear was my beating heart. If it weren’t for the clearly labeled plack on the wall, I would have thought I was in the wrong place.

  “You seem lost, dorogoy, do you need some assistance?” I heard a gruff, deep voice echo across the empty room. When I looked over to where the sound came from, my eyes went wide with shock. The man standing in front of me was tall and solidly built, like he could easily bench-press me with little effort. He had blond hair and blue eyes with a slight accent I wouldn’t have been able to place if it weren’t for the Russian he spoke.

  When I locked eyes with him, finally, he gave me a sly smile. I let out a shaky breath. He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.

  Ian

  While taking the elevator down to the main floor, I couldn’t help but be excited. What a hilarious prank it would be. I’d turn the corner, and the new interviewee would see a gorgeous, tall, dark, and handsome man standing before her, instead of a cool, but haughty receptionist. I chuckled to myself. I couldn’t wait. Before the elevators reached the receptionist desk, I quickly glanced at myself to make sure everything that needed to be in place, was in place. Then, I stepped out to greet Sascha, who was standing in the middle of the room with her head in the clouds.

  “You seem lost, dorogoy, do you need some assistance?” I remarked, smiling as I did so. Sascha glanced up at me, looking me up and down. I couldn’t help but do the same.

  There’s an old saying that you can tell a lot about a woman from looking at her, and from the look of Sascha, I could tell that she would look better in my bed than on my floor. She was likely shy, a little high strung, maybe, judging from that high-ponytail she placed neatly on the back of her head. I wondered instantly what it would be like to pull it gently while I rammed her from behind, or, once I was done, running my fingers through her hair until those long tresses splayed all over my sheets. Then, as I traced my eyes over her breast, to her torso, and finally to her heels, I could see reflected from the marble, red panties.

  I shot my eyes back to hers; I should remain professional. I walked up towards her, hand outstretched as I got closer, and smiled.

  "Nice to meet you. I’m Ian Holder, HR Manager." Sascha took her hand in mine and gave a no-nonsense firm handshake. My mind started to wander once more to what else her hands could do, but I came back to earth once I noticed her cute, confused expression.

  "Nice to meet you, too. I’m Sascha Day," she started, but before she could continue, I decided to explain the situation. Our hands parted.

  "You must be confused by my Russian." Sascha’s confusion turned to surprise, and then she burst into laughter. Soon, her shoulders softened.

  "I’m more confused about why you’re meeting me, instead of the receptionist."

  "Oh, my apologies, Sascha." I pretended to sound hurt, "If you want me to get the receptionist, I’ll let her introduce you to me instead. Why don’t we start over? You can exit the building and come back in." To my surprise, Sascha laughed. Her laughter was almost musical. "Or, you could sit at the reception desk and greet me. You could be my own assistant." I winked playfully, but Sascha seemed to be done with pleasantries.

  "I would, but I’m here to interview for the junior editors’ position," she replied.

  "Yes, I’m aware of that. I’m also aware of your long list of impressive references, as well as your top marks. You would be a fantastic editor; any company would kill you have you." Sascha seemed ecstatic. "Unfortunately, there is no space for an editor at this time."

  At that moment, Sascha’s face fell. "Is this another joke?"

  "Not a joke, prekrasnyy. We’re sorry to disappoint you, but it’s true. However, we have an opening for an executive assistant." I walked over to the desk and leaned against it. “I’ll interview you right here, right now. If I like you, you have the job.”

  Sascha’s eyes went wide. “Wait, seriously?”

  “Our last assistant was awful. When we fired him, my cohorts and I thought that we had the time to vet for a new assistant, but suddenly our lives were falling apart. It’s urgent. We have to get someone in here like, yesterday,” I explained. “I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I’ve read your resume and you’re easily qualified for the assistant position, that’s why I didn’t call to cancel.”

  “But… I want the Junior Editor position,” Sascha said, and she looked truly heartbroken, it actually made me feel bad.

  “I know,” I replied. “But there’s something in it for you too.” Sascha looked up at me, renewed interest. “You become the Executive Assistant now, and then when our C.E.O. fires an editor, which he does quite frequently, that job is yours.”

  “So it’s a placeholder?” Sascha asked.

  “Something like it.” If that made her feel better, I was fine to let her think that. “So? Will you do the interview?”

  Sascha closed her eyes and looked deep in thought. My eyes passed over to her lips; they were pursed in a slight frown. Sascha let out a small sigh. I could tell she was a bit put out.

  "I’ll do the interview," Sascha said and attempted her best smile. I chuckled at her sour expression and approached her in slow, deliberate steps.

  "Great," I said, pointing over to two of our reception chairs. “Have a seat.” She sat down in the chair, and it was adorable the way she creased her skirt and really prepared herself for the abnormal interview I had planned. I sat down opposite her. “First question. Can you tell time?”

  Sascha’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “Um, yes?”

  “Great,” I said. “Can you write?”

  Sascha leaned forward a little bit. “Is this a joke? Are you hazing me or something?”

  “It’s not a very complicated job, but our last assistant made it seem like rocket science,” I explained. “So, writing? Yes? No? I’m more wondering if your writing is legible?”

  “I’ve always taken it very seriously, as an editor,” she replied, and I chuckled at the jab.

  “Good, good. Lastly, are you good at prioritizing? You’ll be assisting myself, the C.E.O. and the C.O.O., so you’ll need to be good at managing a workload,” I said.

  “I can do that,” she responded with confidence.

  I stood up. “Fantastic! The job is yours!”

  Sascha looked up at me, and I could tell she still felt like she might be getting taken for a ride. “Seriously.”

  I dropped my jester-esc. personality and spoke to her straight. “Look, in all sincerity, I was planning on offering you this job regardless, but formalities are what they are, and the C.E.O. is big on rules, so I had to do it. Like I said, it’s a really simple job and we just need someone to do it. If you’re serious about the editor job, it’s a good way to get your foot in the door, and really, Carson, our C.E.O., fires editors once a quarter.”

  Sascha took another deep breath. I could accept that it was strange. I was prepared to give her the time she needed, but eventually, she looked up at me, and her confused expression had been replaced by a determined one
. “I’ll take it.”

  “Wonderful,” I said, slightly surprised. “Well, uh. I know this is even more abnormal, but can you start tomorrow?”

  “I can,” she replied.

  “Well, then follow me, let’s take care of the menial now, so you can hit the ground running tomorrow,” I said, and turned, headed back towards the elevators up.

  “Will I get to meet the other two bosses?” Sascha asked.

  "The other two bosses are out at the moment. Ryland is our C.O.O. and he should be in tomorrow for your first day, however, you may not meet Carson for a while. He’s, well, a bit anal about the company he likes to keep." She smiled at me, but there was still a tinge of disappointment hidden there. "Don’t worry, Sascha, I’m sure he’ll like you."

  The elevator ride was quiet. I took the time to check my suit, and with everything in place, we stepped out and made our way into my office. I could see Sascha eyeing it with some disappointment. It looked like any other office. We weren’t allowed to put much personality on the walls, but I did have a few pictures of my family, along with my Lombardi Replica Super Bowl trophy. I pulled the chair out for her and motioned Sascha to sit down as I took my place behind the desk.

  "As your HR rep, I need to go over some boring paperwork. I’ll just need you to sign after we go over your requirements for the job."

  "And, what are those?" Sascha said with a crack in her voice. She mostly spoke in a quiet whisper since I met her, and only saw her raise her voice when I was getting on her nerves. I made sure to take note of that.