The Secretary's Boss - Allen Brothers Series : Book One - An Enemies To Lovers - Office Romance

by Paige Cooper

  Nicole sat at her desk with her head buried in a file that I knew wasn’t that important. She’d heard me coming and was trying to feign innocence. My blood boiled further. Did she think I was some kind of fool?

  “What exactly did you think you were doing?” I hissed out from between my teeth as I reached her desk.

  My body cast a shadow over her, and when she looked up at me with her hazel eyes, I felt my anger dissipate. Until I remembered what I was angry about.

  “I’m not sure what you mean?” Nicole kept her eyes on me as she spoke. They were wide open in bewilderment at my threatening appearance.

  “You showed up at the courthouse, uninvited. Why did you think that was appropriate to do?” I said forcefully.

  I tried my best to keep my voice down, aware that we were surrounded by other people in the office, but it was hard when I felt like chewing her out for the world to see.

  Part of me was tired of being seen by everyone as the asshole, but if I wasn’t an ass, then they didn’t respect me.

  Nicole stammered, her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she realized I’d seen her at the courthouse. She was caught in her lie, and there was clearly no room for anything other than the truth.

  “Come on, out with it then! Why were you at the courthouse?” I growled this time, my voice rising in volume. We caught a few stares from passersby but other than that, it felt like the only two people who existed in this world were Nicole and me.

  I didn’t care about their stares. I only cared that she’d crossed a line.

  “I’m sorry,” she stuttered out.

  I saw her mind racing behind her eyes. as she searched for the words that might possibly appease me, but there were none.

  “Your job as my secretary is to be here at this desk, answering phones, maybe typing up a document or two. It is not to follow me around town.”

  I glared at her, leaning over the desk to make myself clear as I spoke.

  “You crossed a boundary, Nicole. If I could fire you right now, I would, because I never want to see your face again.”

  Almost immediately, I regretted the words. Hurt flashed in her eyes, and I felt the urge to pull Nicole into me, stroke her hair, and tell her I didn’t mean any of that.

  I opened my mouth, the apology on my tongue. I expected her to cry like she had the day before, and I wanted to wipe the tears off her face. Taking a step forward, I tried to get around her desk and closer to her before her words cut me off.

  “Do not raise your voice at me. I am only trying to do my job and help you out the best way that I can. It’s important that I know how you fight your cases so that I can help you to the best of my abilities. So, that is why I was there this morning—to help you. I want to be the best secretary I can possibly be. Now, if you don’t mind, I have some more work to do for you, Mr. Allen.”

  Nicole’s voice was clipped and short, but she was calm. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say, I was so taken aback.

  “Get to work,” I growled angrily, storming off toward my office and leaving her behind in my cloud of irritation.

  I slammed my office door, not caring if she heard it or if anyone else saw my bad temper. Who the hell did this woman think she was, and where on earth did she come from?

  I wanted to feel angry, wanted to rage at her—but the truth was, I was turned on. Extremely turned on. My pants tightened at my arousal as I thought about the way that Nicole stood up to me.

  No one in this office had ever stood up to me that way. In fact, I could probably count on one hand how many people had ever had the gall to put me in my place while staring me directly in my eyes.

  I made a beeline for my bathroom, trying to compose myself as the desire to call Nicole in here and have my way with her overwhelmed me.

  Cold water splashed on my face as I tried to get a handle on my nerves. My eyes met the reflection in the mirror above the sink, and red-hot shame consumed me. She’d wanted to help me, and I had snapped at her.

  Why did I always fuck things like this up? I wasn’t used to working with another person. That was what I wanted to say, at least, but with Nicole, it felt different.

  I had this fascination with her that I’d never felt for another woman before.

  Sheepishly, I made my way back to her desk, and this time, I came with my arms raised.

  I’d lashed out at her, but somewhere between meeting her and her standing up to me, I’d gained respect for Nicole.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Nicole looked back up from her computer and into my eyes. She didn’t say anything at my apology, simply looked at me as if she expected me to say more.

  I supposed that with the way I’d treated her over the last few weeks, I deserved that. She was owed more than a half-hearted apology.

  “I’m sorry I antagonized you while practicing my rehearsal questions with you yesterday. It wasn’t fair of me, and I didn’t know where it came from. I think it was simply a combination of stress and wanting to do my best. It was a hell of a case for me. And I’m sorry I yelled at you now. It threw me off when you were in the courtroom, but you’re right. You’re already doing an amazing job as my secretary,” I said begrudgingly.

  I never broke eye contact as I spoke to her and my heart raced in my chest, causing my blood to rush to my head. I felt lightheaded as I looked at her, and for an insane moment, I believed she might actually stand up and kiss me.

  At least, that was what I wanted to happen. My heart fell slightly with disappointment when she nodded her head instead of bringing her body against my own.

  “I accept your apology.”

  I looked at her for a moment longer, our eyes communicating things that my mouth wasn’t ready to say. This pull I felt toward Nicole was strange, and the flutters that kicked into my stomach left me on edge. I’d never wanted to see someone naked and have them stick around the next morning, yet here I was, wanting to know everything about Nicole.

  “Is that your dog?” I blurted out suddenly, remembering the photo I’d spied on her desk her first day back.

  “Rooster. He was our family dog. He died a few years ago, but I love seeing him around.”

  There was a beaming smile on her lips that reached up to her eyes, and I felt my heart rise again. Why was I so reactive to her emotions?

  Because you like her.

  There it was. The admission I’d been hiding behind. I liked Nicole Reed. To be frank, I was infatuated with Nicole Reed.

  “I’ll be knocking off soon. I need to go visit my dad. Was there anything you wanted me to take care of in the last hour before I need to leave?” Nicole perked up, asking me a direct question without a waver in her voice.

  I wasn’t sure what had happened, but there seemed to be a shift in the dynamic that existed between us. Suddenly, Nicole was buoyant as she spoke. In the past, she’d been a lot more reserved and serious in our interactions.

  I wanted to make up an excuse to keep her later, but since I’d won the case, none of the work we had to do was pressing.

  “No, you can leave early today if you’d like. There’s nothing else to do,” I said before I could stop myself.

  Nicole clapped her hands gleefully and took her purse, packing away her desk for the evening.

  “Goodnight, boss,” she called out to my retreating back as I made a beeline for my office once again.

  Something weird was happening to me. I never let anyone go home early, so why had I just told her to leave? I felt like I couldn’t trust myself or my own actions anymore.

  I drew my office blinds closed and sank into the sofa at the back of the room, laying my head down on the pillow. Nicole did something to me, and I wasn’t entirely sure I liked it.

  Honestly, I found it hard to focus when she was around. That was why her presence in the courtroom had pissed me off so much. She was so goddamn gorgeous, and I felt like a stumbling idiot around her.

  I didn’t want to prove John right, but I really wanted Nicole in my bed.
Fighting this attraction to her was getting harder and harder every day.

  The funny thing was that I didn’t even know if she liked me back. For the first time in the 35 years I had existed in this world, I didn’t know if a girl liked me back.

  Chapter 13: Nicole

  T hursday night meant it was my night off for me, myself, and I.

  This week had been tough with dad. Yesterday, he woke up and didn’t know who I was. He’d thought I was some stranger he’d taken in during the night, and he kept telling me not to steal from him or he’d call the cops.

  I wanted to scream in frustration, and so I did the next best thing—salsa dance.

  Lately, things in the office had been weird with Mark. He gave me longer looks, and he let his eyes linger on mine. He never did that in the beginning, preferring to look anywhere but at me.

  A shift in our relationship had occurred, but I didn’t know exactly what it meant. All I knew was that every minute I spent around Mark was another minute of frustration I had to deal with at home.

  He was impossibly sexy and... okay, so he was an ass. Apparently, my lady parts didn’t care about that. Or maybe they were turned on by it. More often than not, I found myself wishing I’d be turned on by the sweet boy-next-door type again, but it seemed my body had a mind of its own.

  I left work every single day finding myself more intrigued by Mark Allen—and wanting to know him in every intimate way possible.

  Except he’d made it clear he hated my presence. I still replayed his words from the day I’d snuck into court to watch him.

  I never want to see your face again.

  The statement played in my mind on a constant loop. I’d heard my heart physically crack in two when he’d said it. He had apologized, but what for? Probably only so John and David would stay off his back.

  I shook my head, loosening my body up for the salsa class of the evening. I needed to shake away all thoughts of my dad and Mark tonight. For a few hours, my time would be dedicated to myself.

  “Nicole, are you ready for salsa?” Terri asked me as she walked back from the hallway.

  We were about to finish our break and start the second half of the class.

  “When am I not ready for salsa?” I laughed and gave her a high five as I took my place amongst the others.

  Terri was our instructor, and over the last five years of salsa lessons, we’d formed a close bond. Salsa night had been my idea, but it took on like quickfire with the entire class.

  We did advanced dance classes twice a week, but the last Thursday of each month was reserved for salsa night. This meant we all came to class in our traditional salsa clothes, and we partied a little later than usual.

  We were a tight-knit family but always welcomed newcomers. Some days, I didn’t know what I would do without my salsa family.

  I stood in the front line next to two other women. We were going through a few basic hip movements before pairing up.

  As the music started up again and Terri began the instructions we needed to follow, a shrill ring pierced the air.

  The class went still for a moment, the salsa music playing on in the background but interrupted every three seconds by the ringing of a phone.

  I looked around the room before the sound registered. It was my phone.

  With a jolt, I ran to the front of the room, where all of our personal belongings were kept.

  “I’m so sorry, I always turn my phone off. I must have forgotten,” I threw my apologies back to Terri and the others before grabbing my bag and heading into the hallway.

  No one ever called me unless it was an emergency, so I was surprised that my phone had actually rung the one time I didn’t switch it off.

  I hated being interrupted during salsa time, but if something was wrong with my dad, I needed to know. I found it odd that Maryann would call my personal phone, since she had Terri’s number in case of emergencies on my dance class nights.

  My eyes caught Mark’s name flashing on my screen, and my heart stopped. It was 7 on a Thursday night. Why was he calling me?

  I cleared my throat and walked further down the hallway, away from the vibrant sounds of salsa music.

  “Hello?” I answered hesitantly, wondering if this was some kind of prank or test.

  “Nicole, sorry to bother you. I’m at the office, I’m working on the Delano case, but I left the file plus a few important documents at home. Some of it is time-sensitive and can’t wait until tomorrow to be sent through.” Mark spoke quickly over the phone, and I heard him shuffling papers in the background.

  “Okay, and?”

  “I need you to please go fetch the file from my apartment. I don’t have time to leave the office and dash across town right now. I’m almost done going over the discovery list, but the documents for the subpoenas and medical records are all at my place. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t critical,” he added almost as an afterthought.

  “It’s my time off, Mark…” I began, trying to refuse his request. Salsa night was sacred. I never skipped.

  “Being my secretary means putting in extra hours every now and then. Either get the file or don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”

  I stood in silence in the hallway as his voice echoed through the loudspeaker on my phone.

  Here he was, once again demanding time from me. Demanding instead of asking. I shook my head silently as the silence stretched out between us. The static from the phone echoed in my ear.

  “Okay, I’ll go,” I said against my better judgment.

  Mark breathed an audible sigh of relief. I didn’t know why I was helping him. I could have told him to get lost. We both knew my job was protected through John and David.

  For some reason, knowing I was helping him and relieving some of his stress gave me an odd sense of satisfaction. Mark Allen really was ruining my grasp on reality. After tonight I needed to set my mind and body down and give them a stern talking-to, because this behavior wasn’t me. It wasn’t normal.

  Mark rattled off an address to me and gave me the codes to his building and his apartment. I wasn’t surprised to find out he lived in the penthouse suite. Typical.

  I hung up the phone and gathered my bag. I didn’t bring a change of clothes from salsa night because I came straight here from my place. I also didn’t have time to go change, so I would have to run this errand in heels and a salsa dress.

  A quick pop of my head into the class and apologies to Terri had me on my way to his apartment before five minutes had elapsed. Mark stressed that this was super time-sensitive, and I didn’t want to be the reason he lost vital information on a case.

  Thankfully, my salsa class wasn’t too far from Mark’s apartment. I grabbed a taxi to drive me the five blocks—I wasn’t about to walk them in heels—and planned on handing Mark the bill so he could pay me back.

  There was no way he was going to have me doing after-hours work for him and stick me with the bill, too.

  I wanted to be upset with him. In fact, the entire ride over, I made up a list of reasons why I should be furious with Mark at this moment. The only problem was that I felt no anger or frustration toward him—not even at having to miss my favorite salsa class of the month.

  The building Mark lived in was situated smack dab in the middle of the Upper East Side and looked every bit as fancy as I expected. Lights sparkled across the building’s face, and a doorman with a grim smile stood outside a brightly lit entrance.

  “What are you doing here?” The doorman looked down at me, his lips in a thin line.

  “I’m Nicole Reed, Mark Allen’s secretary. He needs me to get something from his apartment,” I whispered, feeling like a child who’d been caught doing something naughty.

  “Oh, Ms. Reed. Mr. Allen called. Please, do go in.” The grim line of his lips curved upward into a smile, and he moved out of the way.

  I nodded my head and darted inside, grateful to be away from his scrutiny.

  They weren’t kidding about those New York doormen. I sh
rugged off his stare and punched in the code to open up the elevator. The foyer of the building was large and open. I expected to find it cluttered with a bunch of rich-people things, but instead, it seemed really well put together and sophisticated. Almost understated in its decor.

  Fifty stories. That was how many floors I had to go up to get to Mark’s penthouse. I was the only one on the elevator as it made its ascent up to his floor, and I couldn’t help wondering what all these people were doing in their apartments.

  After a few minutes, the elevator doors opened up to another foyer entrance. There was nothing more here than the door to Mark’s apartment and a table that had a tray for letters and packages.

  I went to the panel and put in the second code he’d given me. Quite a bit of security, if you included the cameras in the entrance, elevator, and the one trained on me right now.

  The front door opened up into a sleek and modern living room. It was an open plan, which meant that I could see the marble countertop island that led into the kitchen. There were minimal lights on, but I could make out the outline of his apartment.

  I didn’t want to dally, so I slipped down the two stairs that led down into the living room and flicked on the light switch. A hallway off the living room led me to a gray door that he’d described as his office door.

  I let myself in and quickly rifled through his desk drawers for the documents. I wasn’t surprised that his home office mirrored his work office, except that it was substantially smaller. The same dark wood desk stood at the back of the room. At least he kept his home office in order, as opposed to the millions of documents I was constantly fixing in the office for him.

  I slipped the file into my purse and prepared to go, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know more about Mark Allen, and what better opportunity than when I was literally in his home?

  I bit my lip, letting myself think twice about snooping through his place. Taking the taxi here had given me a few extra minutes. He wouldn’t even know.

  Without another thought, I slipped out of his office and closed the door behind me. I continued down the hallway, opening the doors as I came across them. The first door led to the bathroom.