Defying the Boss

by A. Zavarelli

  Defying the Boss

  A. Zavarelli

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Afterword

  BOOKS by A. ZAVARELLI

  About the Author

  Defying the Boss © 2015 A. Zavarelli

  Cover Design by Designran

  Cover Photograph © 2015 Deposit Photos/ georgenight

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  1

  I smoothed my fingers over the initials etched into the cufflinks with an ache inside my chest. These were definitely the ones. The ones I’d been trying to track down for weeks, since Kane told me they were stolen.

  The price tag to retrieve them was well over two months of my salary. I could just call him and tell him I’d found them. But that wasn’t what I wanted.

  One last gift.

  That’s what these would be. A way to express my gratitude and show him in my own little way how much the past three years had meant to me.

  “I’ll take them,” I said before I could change my mind.

  The man behind the counter looked at me like I was missing a few screws. He cleared his throat and lingered a little longer than necessary.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I can’t budge on the price.”

  My bittersweet moment quickly turned to indignation. I knew what he must think of me in my nondescript jeans and paint splattered shirt. My blonde hair tossed up into a messy bun and not a smidgeon of makeup on my face. From this angle, I appeared very much a starving artist.

  “I work for Kane Stryker,” I huffed.

  The clerk simply blinked at me.

  “You know, the CEO of the biggest media conglomerate in the nation?”

  Crickets.

  “The billionaire?” I clarified.

  He wasn’t impressed. He simply shrugged and went about wrapping up my purchase before he took my credit card warily. I was certain he expected it to be declined.

  Now he was not only grating on my nerves but insulting Kane too. Kane was one of the wealthiest men in America, and his face had been splashed across every newspaper more times than I could count. For this man to feign ignorance really irritated me.

  It was my one day off, hence the reason I was dressed like a hobo. Because during the other six days of the week, I spent hours polishing my hair and makeup. I rocked the professional black skirt suits and took on the world in my red-bottomed heels. I wanted my appearance to be a reflection of Kane. To show all of New York that his assistant could and would handle anything he threw her way.

  And for the last three years, I had done just that.

  But where had it left me? With a broken heart and a plane ticket to Florida. That’s where. Because in two weeks, I would be starting over. A new city, a new job, and no Kane.

  It hurt, but it was necessary. Because while I had put Kane on a pedestal, he’d hardly even deemed to notice me. I was his Girl Friday. His bringer of bagels and coffee, and organizer of meetings and appointments. Nothing more. He called me when he needed something, and never for anything else. And yet, somewhere along the line, I had fallen in love with him.

  I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. My heart ached when I recalled the annual charity ball last month. It was the one event that Kane never took a date to. He’d always reserved it just for me and him. We would dance and drink and laugh, and for a moment, I could almost forget that he was my boss.

  But this year, he’d invited someone else. Not just someone else, but a model. Alayna something or other. And it shattered what little strength I had left. It was then that I realized I couldn’t do it anymore. I’d given him sixty hours a week and three years of my life. I’d given him my heart.

  And when the clerk walked back with the wrapped up cufflinks, I gave him a half-hearted smile. Because now I’d be giving Kane the one thing that actually meant something to him. Along with my resignation.

  2

  I’d just swiped a broad stroke of dark red paint across the canvas when the doorbell rang.

  I could barely hear it over the sound of Blue October blaring through my iPod dock. I was in a dark mood which meant I needed the right music to accompany my creativity.

  I wiped my hands on my faded jeans and walked to the door, staring through the peephole. Dark chocolate eyes stared back at me as Kane waited impatiently on the other side.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  I stole a nervous glance at some of the boxes that I’d already packed when the sound of his fist echoed again on the other side.

  Dammit. I did not want to lie to him.

  I mustered up a smile and opened the door. He just cocked his head to the side and barged right in.

  “This is where you live?” he sounded flabbergasted. “You don’t even have a doorman. Anyone could just come right up here.”

  “What, you mean like you?” I rolled my eyes. “What are you even doing here, Kane? It’s Sunday, remember… my day off?”

  “Since when have you ever been bothered by spending time with me?” he smirked.

  It was a joke, but one that I didn’t find particularly humorous. I crossed my arms and his eyes trailed over my clothes as though he were just now noticing them.

  “What are you wearing?”

  I didn’t get a chance to answer, because a moment later, his eyes found the paintings behind me. I swallowed the lump in my throat as he walked over and inspected them.

  “I didn’t know you painted.”

  His voice held a hint of awe, and it socked me right in that place inside of my heart I’d reserved for him. The one I was trying so desperately to close off.

  “Why would you? You’re too busy working me to death,” I retorted. The usual snark was missing from my voice, and he didn’t miss it.

  He turned around and stared at me again, like he was really seeing me for the first time. A beat passed, and I had to tear my gaze away. I couldn’t look at him.

  He was too damn beautiful. Too perfect.

  The phrase tall, dark, and handsome was created in his honor. Black hair, olive skin, and chocolate eyes. The eyes that melted all of my common sense and cracked my resolve every last time.

  “Aspen, I…”

  He stuttered over his words, and it caught me off guard. Kane Stryker never stuttered. He never looked uncertain. But here in my apartment, next to my sad paintings and meager belongings, it was clear I had thrown him for a loop.

  “Do you need a doctor or something?” he asked.

  “What?” I blinked. Did he think I had gone mental?

  “You said you were sick the night of the charity ball,” he explained. “And ever since then… you’ve been acting a little strange. I was just wondering if…” He cleared his throat. “You needed a doctor or something.”

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed. This was Kane’s version of trying to be helpful. He had no clue when it came to women, but then again, he didn’t need to. He had women falling all over themselves to get into his bed, and I was quite certain he probably took them up on those offers frequently.

  “I’m fine, Kane.” I
shrugged.

  “Okay.” He didn’t look convinced. “I just can’t believe you missed it. It’s your favorite event of the year.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “But you had someone else to accompany you anyway, so it wasn’t like it mattered. I didn’t put you out, did I?”

  I was going for casual indifference, but my voice was still icy. Kane could tell.

  “It was just a business arrangement,” he said. “Alayna’s publicist set it up months ago, and I wasn’t thinking clearly when I agreed to it.”

  “Kane, why don’t you just tell me what you need,” I suggested. I couldn’t have this conversation.

  “Do I have to need something?” he pouted.

  We both laughed then. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

  “Alright,” he admitted. “You’re right. As always. I need you to come Christmas shopping with me.”

  “Now?” I asked in disbelief. “Christmas is in four days. Are you crazy?”

  “So I’m a little late to the party.” He shrugged. “I could just ask you to do it yourself. It does fall under your job description.”

  “Yes, well my job description also dictates that I have a day off, Kane. And today is that day.”

  I edged towards the door, making him think he was going to have to work for it. I couldn’t deny there was something I loved about Kane begging me. And he would beg.

  “I’ll buy you ice cream,” he offered.

  I wrinkled my nose.

  “Okay, and take you to see that new romance movie.”

  I must have looked horrified, and it made his dimples appear. “What? You love that crap.”

  “Oh my God,” I muttered. “Don’t ever say anything like that again… it’s just creepy coming from you. I’ll go shopping if you promise to stop talking right now.”

  “Done,” he smirked.

  “Just give me five minutes to change,” I said.

  I walked down the hall and debated on what to wear. Kane only ever saw me in skirt suits, and this whole situation felt weird. This was the first time he’d ever shown up at my apartment. It was strange, but in a way it was good. At least I’d get to spend my last week in New York with the one man that I really wanted to. He could believe that it was a hassle for me, but it wasn’t true. It would never be true.

  I applied a faint sweep of smoky eyeshadow to accent my blue eyes and followed it up with some lip gloss. A quick brush through my long blonde hair and I made my way to the closet. I decided on a pair of leggings and a sweater dress. Cozy and perfect for this time of year. Plus, I kind of wanted to throw Kane for another loop. But when I walked back down the hall, my heart stuttered a little.

  He lurked near my kitchen table, where half of my stuff was packed, and where I’d also left the envelope with my resignation letter. He was way too close for my liking, and his back was rigid. But there was no way he would have opened it. Right?

  I cleared my throat and he spun around. A strange expression filled his face as his eyes trailed over me. Like he was memorizing my every detail.

  “Are you ready to go?” I croaked.

  “Yep.”

  He stomped towards the door and didn’t look back.

  3

  Kane was being quiet. Too quiet. And I didn’t like it one bit.

  I’d been following him through all the high-end stores, but he was yet to actually purchase anything. I already knew this trip was probably going to be fruitless and I’d end up running out last minute to pick up gifts for his entire list.

  “Maybe if you tell me what you’re looking for,” I suggested as he stalked through the linen department.

  He stopped short and spun to face me. And if I didn’t know any better, I would say he looked… angry.

  “That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “I’ll tell you what I’m looking for, Aspen. You can help me pick it out.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged. That’s why I was there, wasn’t it?

  He led me to the lingerie section and gave me an arrogant smile.

  “I need something for… a friend,” he hedged.

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat. It was one thing to organize his dates, but entirely another to shop for their lingerie.

  I plastered on a fake smile and nodded. One more week. And then I would be putting all of this behind me.

  “Do you know what size she is?” I asked woodenly.

  He tilted his head to the side and shrugged. “Mmmm, not really. She’s petite.” His eyes trailed over my body as he spoke as though he were comparing me to her. The thought made me sick.

  “And she has a magnificent rack,” he added. “A perfect ass…”

  “Okay.” I held my hands up.

  My eyes were watering. God, why did I love this man?

  “Just tell me what you want to buy her.”

  “That’s the thing,” he said. “I don’t know. She’s hard to shop for. She’s never really told me what she likes. She’s always keeping things to herself. It’s annoying.”

  “Well, I’m sure she’ll wear just about anything you ask her to,” I grumbled. “They always do, don’t they?”

  His smile fell flat, and he shook his head. “Is that what you think?”

  He looked hurt, and I didn’t know why. But I couldn’t let it get to me. This was exactly why I was leaving.

  “What I think is that the store will be closing soon. So if you want me to help you pick something out, you’d better at least give me some ideas.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I think I’ve had enough.”

  4

  The Stryker Broadcasting Group’s annual Christmas party.

  Every year, Kane spared no expense to ensure his employees had a good time, and this year was no different. There was a ballroom. White linens as far as the eye could see. The entire place looked like a winter wonderland.

  The only thing missing was him.

  My eyes scanned the room one last time before I decided to go for a walk. The last place that I expected him to be is where I found him. On the balcony, in the freezing cold, watching the snow fall.

  He had a drink in his hand, and he didn’t hear me approaching. So for a moment, I just allowed my eyes to wander over him. To take in his profile against the beautiful backdrop and engrave it on my memory.

  My heart squeezed again. How was I ever going to leave him?

  “You should be inside.” He didn’t look up, and I was a little taken aback that he knew it was me.

  “Says you,” I retorted. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I can tell by the way you walk.”

  “Huh?”

  His words weren’t slurred, but he wasn’t making a damn bit of sense.

  “You were wondering how I knew you were there,” he explained, still not looking at me. “I can tell by the way you walk, Aspen. I’ve heard the click of your heels more times than I could count over the last three years. You think I don’t notice these things, but I do.”

  I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. I didn’t know what to say. He seemed solemn.

  It wasn’t all that surprising. I knew this time of year was always hard for him. His parents died in a car accident on Christmas Day six years ago. Ever since then he’d holed himself up in a cabin for the holiday with no outside contact to the world.

  But he always made an effort at the Christmas party, to look like he was having a good time at least. Not tonight, though.

  The part of me that wanted to hang onto him told me I should try to comfort him. That I should ask him if he wanted to talk. But Kane had always been closed off. He used sarcasm to deflect his emotions, and I knew that’s what I’d get right now if I were to ask.

  But I couldn’t just leave him out here. I didn’t want to.

  “Kane, I…”

  The door opened, and Alayna walked out with an icy smile on her face. Her eyes raked me from head to toe before dismissing me and landing on Kane.

  “Lover.” She poute
d. “Come dance with me.”

  Kane glanced at me, and I gave him a tight smile. I thought I heard him say my name as I walked back inside, but I ignored it entirely.

  Thirty minutes and two cocktails later, I was feeling much more receptive to Nick from Marketing’s advances.

  He was tall and handsome, and he’d carried a torch for me ever since I stepped foot inside SBG. Why, oh why couldn’t I like him?

  Because he wasn’t Kane. That’s why.

  “Ugh.” I tossed back the shot the bartender handed me.

  I still hadn’t seen Kane and Alayna, but then again, I wasn’t looking. I didn’t want to see.

  “You wanna’ dance?” Nick asked hopefully.

  I grinned at him through bleary eyes and ran a hand over his chest, enjoying the way he shivered beneath my touch. Kane would never shiver.

  I was a little tipsy and being stupid. I wasn’t proud, but I dragged him out onto the dance floor anyway.

  “I’m just using you to make myself feel better,” I blurted. “I don’t want to lead you on, Nick.”

  He smiled and shook his head, wrapping his hands around my waist. “I don’t care.”

  “You don’t?” I asked in surprise.

  “No.” He chuckled, twirling me around in his arms. “I see the way you look at Kane. I know that’s who you really want. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate you while I have you in my arms.”

  “God, you’re so nice,” I groaned. “Why do you have to be so nice? You should tell me I’m a bitch or something. You can, you know. Because I should want you. I really should.”

  “I wouldn’t kick you out of my bed,” he smirked. “And I’d never call you a bitch.”

  “Then what would you call me?” I leaned my face against his shoulder and allowed him to lead. “Invisible? Because that’s what I feel like.”