Unprofessional Bad Boys - Boxed Set (Contemporary Romance)

by Clarissa Wild

  “Uh, yeah …” He adjusts his tie. “I was rash and indecisive, and I’m sorry about that.” He folds his hands on the table. “But I’d love to give you a chance.”

  “A chance, huh?” I cock my head. “Well, all right.”

  He smiles. “I was almost worried you’d say no and walk out of here.”

  “It did cross my mind,” I reply, smiling back and watching as his smile slides off his face.

  “You don’t want the job?” he says, narrowing his eyes.

  “Oh, I do.”

  “Great.” He grins and closes his jacket then grabs a pen. “Got the contract for me?”

  For a moment, I’m flabbergasted. I can’t believe he just stepped over it like that. Determined to just ignore my annoyance with how this went. Maybe he thinks I’m easy. Or maybe he’s right because I do honestly want this job and I never really planned on walking out of here without securing it. Did he see through my bluff all along?

  Damn him.

  I rummage in my bag and take out the papers, placing them on the table. Without looking, I slide the papers forward while closing my bag, which is when I feel his fingers against mine. An electrical current flows through my hands, and I pull back immediately, feeling the heat rise in my body from the shock that I actually touched him.

  Stop it, Lesley. You can’t feel that for him. He’s going to be your damn boss, and you’re going to be the best employee he’s ever had, so act like it.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles, licking his lips as eyes hidden under thick lashes meet mine. Just for a moment, he’s captured my attention … and then he lets it go by focusing on the contract in front of him. He flips through the pages. “Signed it?”

  “Yup,” I reply, trying to calm my nerves.

  “All right. Before I make this final, can I ask you one more thing?”

  “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  His gaze narrows. “Can I … trust you?”

  My lips part, but I hesitate. I don’t know how to answer. What kind of question is that? Who asks that? And why?

  Still, there’s only one correct answer if I want to get this job. “Of course.”

  He nods. “Great. I’ll take your word for it.”

  While he signs the contract, I quickly pull out my phone and text my mom.

  Me: Finally got it! Morrows it is. Gonna be an intern.

  Mom: Wow! Congratulations, honey! Can’t wait to hear how it goes.

  Me: Thanks! Will talk more later. xx

  When he stops writing, I quickly tuck the phone away again. He pulls one of the copies of the contract out and hands it back to me. “This is yours; I’ll keep the rest.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it. “Welcome to the firm.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, trying not to feel overwhelmed by his hand touching mine.

  “So …” He leans back in his chair. “I’m curious. How come you never asked what it is that we do?”

  “I don’t know. I just …”

  Shit, he saw right through me.

  Maybe I should’ve done my research when I still had the chance.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  “It’s okay. I knew it the moment you walked in here during your interview,” he muses, the left side of his lip quirking up into a smile. “You apply to a bunch of companies and try to snag the first one that talks to you.”

  I rub my lips together, feeling the heat.

  “Don’t worry; I’m not going to pull the rug out from underneath you.” He chuckles. “I already hired you, even when I knew all this.”

  “Is that why you sent me away?” I ask.

  “No.” He takes a short breath. “That was about something else. Look, the point is, it doesn’t matter to me. You convinced me you’re perfect for the job with just your attitude alone.”

  The compliment makes me glow, but I don’t know why. I normally never care that much about what other people think about me. But with him, it’s different. I feel like I constantly need to impress him.

  “Thank you. I appreciate the chance,” I say. “I won’t let you down.”

  He nods. “Great, because you can bet I’m going to hold you to that.” We both laugh a little. He tucks away the papers and gets up from his chair. “Now that the official part is over, I can finally introduce you to your new partner.” I follow his lead as he walks to the door.

  “Partner?”

  “Yeah.” We go through the hallway and into the elevator. “Tell me, Lesley, what do you think we do here at Morrows?”

  “Uh …” The doors close and he presses a button, letting me suffer in silence while I try to think of an answer. “You sell products?”

  The right side of his lips tip up briefly, and he places his hand on the wall beside me. “Good guess.”

  I can’t stop staring at his smoldering eyes. And the way he stares back at me makes me feel like he knew this was coming. Like he’s been waiting for me all along. But that doesn’t make any sense.

  “What do you think we sell?”

  “Um … I don’t know … newspapers? Stock market shares? Hygienic products?” With each guess, he leans in just a tiny inch, but it’s noticeable to me. I’m not sure I mind, but it sure is getting hot in here. Or maybe that’s just me.

  And Jesus Christ that cologne he’s wearing … It’s intoxicating.

  “Office supplies? Food?” I continue, but he still doesn’t say yes.

  The elevator door opens, and he saunters out alone. The sudden absence of his presence makes it feel like I’m choking on the empty air. It takes me a few seconds to compose myself.

  “Are you coming?” he asks, playfully raising his brows at me.

  “Yeah, sorry.” I huff, running my fingers through my hair. “I hate small spaces.”

  It’s not a lie; I do hate small spaces … but not when I can share them with him.

  Jesus, you horny bitch, stop chasing the impossible. He’s your boss now. Act like a good employee.

  “Odd,” he says, shrugging, and he turns around to start walking again.

  I quickly follow behind him. “What’s odd?”

  He glances at me. “Never pegged you to be claustrophobic.”

  “Pfft … nah, I’m not claustrophobic. I just don’t like elevators. That’s all.” I laugh it off a little, but it’s not working because he’s not laughing with me.

  “I like narrow spaces. Gives my mind the opportunity to focus,” he says, pointing at his temple.

  I snigger to myself.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  “Are you being sassy, Miss Fischer?” he asks, cocking his head at me.

  “No, of course not. What do you take me for, Mr. Morrows?” I retort.

  “Call me TJ. And I get the feeling you’re going to be a handful of sass.”

  “Me? Never,” I joke.

  “Too bad,” he says. “I like sassy.”

  His words make me fall silent for a moment. Was he flirting with me just now, or am I just imagining it?

  “Helps keep me sharp,” he adds, bursting my epic office romance fantasy bubble.

  “Right,” I say. “I can do that … TJ.”

  We continue to walk until we reach a door, at which point TJ stops and says, “Now, I hope you don’t scare easily.”

  “Why? What’s behind that door?”

  I try to peek in, but he won’t let me.

  “The products we create are for a very specific customer.”

  “We’re not working for criminals, are we?” I raise a brow.

  “No.” He laughs out loud. “We make toys.”

  “Toys? What’s scary about that?”

  “Nothing, but sometimes they are.”

  He opens the door farther, and when I step forward and look inside, my bag drops to the floor and my jaw goes along with it.

  He places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes softly. “You never asked what we do here, so now you know. The division you’re going to work
for makes dog toys.”

  I stare ahead at the room full of fluffy … cuddly … chewing … barking … dogs.

  “And to make sure we’re the best of the best, all our employees have their own personal doggy assistant.”

  Chapter 5

  Lesley

  “Dog toys?” I exclaim, shocked by the discovery. “But I thought you sold people stuff.”

  He sniggers. “Well, dogs are for people too, right? And yeah, we also create and sell baby products as well as regular toys. But that’s under another division, and you won’t be working there.”

  “What do baby products and toys have to do with dogs?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugs. “We’re a multifaceted company. Like Mars Inc. You know, those chocolates everyone on the world loves? They also have a dog food brand.”

  “Really?” I frown, finding it hard to believe.

  “Yeah. Toys4Dogs is one of our brands, which is what you’ll be working on.”

  I stare into the room at the dogs playing with squeaky toys, some of them barking right at me, probably looking for attention … or a leg to chew on.

  “To create the perfect dog toy, you need to know what your target wants,” he says. “So each one of our employees at Toys4Dogs has a personal dog assistant.”

  “And you keep all them here?” I ask, looking around the magical doggy playground, which makes me shiver.

  “Well, we have to keep them somewhere, and we can’t have them all over the work floor. It would be a mess. No one would get any work done.”

  “So people have to come here to pick up their dog and then play with it or what?” I ask.

  He nods. “If they’re trying to do something new or exciting, then, of course, they can take out their dog and see if it likes it. That’s why we have them.”

  “So they’re just tools to you?” I put my hand on my side.

  “No, no,” he says, raising a hand. “It’s more than that. Every employee is expected to take care of the dog. Love it, pet it, walk it. You name it.”

  “Do people honestly sign up for this voluntarily?”

  He snorts. “They’re dogs. Of course, people love the idea. Who wouldn’t want a dog at work?”

  “But how? Where did you get all these? And who takes care of them?”

  “They’re all rescue dogs. The employees each have their own, and they take them home and feed them there. Everyone here loves dogs.”

  I shrug, rolling my eyes. “Okay … So do you have one too?”

  “Yup,” he says, pointing at a Spitzer type dog that looks like a mixed breed in the middle of the room. “Dozer’s mine.”

  “Ah-ha … Interesting.”

  “Don’t you want to pet one?” TJ asks.

  “No, why? Should I?”

  He smiles. “Well, one of them will be yours, so why not introduce yourself?” He places a hand on my shoulder and goes down to ear level, leaning in so damn close I can feel his breath tingle on my skin. He points, and for a moment there, I’m worried he might give me the Doberman in the corner, but then his finger stops right on top of a dachshund. “That one,” he whispers. “The previous owner left the company and couldn’t take the dog because his landlord didn’t allow them, so now it’s yours.”

  I suck in a breath, feeling his fingers curl around my shoulder. I don’t know why feeling him close has this much effect on me. I never was the sensitive type, but around him, I feel like I’m about to turn to jelly.

  His warm hand snakes down my back and gives me a soft push. “Go on.” I flinch at the sight of all the dogs.

  What the hell did I sign up for?

  I really should’ve done my research.

  Goddammit.

  “What are you afraid of?” he asks, smiling like it’s all one big, happy business.

  He doesn’t know me well enough yet to realize I’m actually trembling while walking.

  I don’t hate-hate dogs. I just was almost bitten one time when I was a kid, so I’ve been afraid of them ever since.

  However, I gotta keep it together for appearances. I signed up for this job, so I’m going to fucking nail it whether I like it or not. No way in hell will I let this roadblock stop me.

  I swallow as I get close to the small fence that keeps the dogs in place. They finally notice me approaching, and some of them begin to jump up and down, making me jolt up too.

  “They won’t bite,” TJ says, raising a brow at me when I give him a face.

  “Easy for you to say, standing over there,” I retort.

  He leans against the door with his arms folded, casually checking out my hesitant plan of attack like he finds it funny or something. Meanwhile, I’ve resorted to leaning over the fence, away from most of the dogs so I can reach that one tiny sausage-like dog that’s wagging its tail at me.

  I try; I really do try. But the first one to jump up on the fence and touch my hand makes me jump back and squeal.

  “Aw,” TJ says in a condescending tone as he walks toward me. “Don’t like dogs?”

  “Oh, shut up,” I bark back like that’s helpful. I regret it the moment it leaves my mouth, and I’m so embarrassed my face lights up like a bulb. Add to that the fact he’s laughing, and I’m practically on fire.

  “I’m not afraid,” I hiss.

  “I never said you were,” he muses.

  I want to slap the smirk off his face.

  “Let me help you,” he says, leaning over the small fence to grab the dachshund. When he’s got it, he holds it out to me and says, “Go on. Pet it.”

  I hesitate but then let my fingers brush along the top of its head anyway. I find monumental courage at that moment. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because the dog is small and its eyes are big, and its hair is soft. Or maybe it’s because TJ is holding it, and I feel safe.

  “Her name is Pepper,” he says. “Short for Pepperoni.”

  I squint, still petting the dog. “Pepperoni?”

  “You know. A sausage … dog.”

  I snort and roll my eyes.

  “What?” He cuddles her.

  “Let me guess. You gave her the name?’

  “Yup.” He grins.

  “Hi, Pepper,” I say, and her tail immediately begins to wag. “Are you my partner now?”

  “She looks very excited to meet you, Lesley,” he says, pushing the dog toward me. “Here.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “You can hold her. She won’t bite,” he says, and before I know it, I’ve got her in my arms.

  I don’t even know how to properly hold her. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “You won’t. Remember what I said about trust? You have to trust yourself too.”

  “I do, but …”

  “You don’t trust the dog?” he muses, petting her. “She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  I try not to think of my fears as he grabs her from my arms and puts her down to let her sniff my shoes.

  “See?” he says. “She likes you.”

  I smile at the sight of the little dachshund, whipping its tail at me when I look at it. If it stays like this, I could get used to it.

  TJ grabs a collar and leash off the cabinet. He puts it around her neck then gives the leash to me. “Let’s take her for a walk.”

  “What, now?”

  “Why not?” He seems so easygoing. As if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “Well, shouldn’t we start with work or something?”

  “This is work. You getting to know the dog, and the dog getting to know you,” he says. “If we’re gonna sell stuff for them, we might as well know what they like. Don’t you agree?”

  “Yeah, but … Don’t you have a company to run?” I say with raised brows.

  “The company’s not going anywhere. You, on the other hand …” He winks, and it immediately breaks all the tension in the room.

  Goddamn, that handsome son of a bitch. He’s way too smooth.

  “Let’s go,” he says, walking out in front of me.
<
br />   I chase after him with a dog behind me, feeling weird about it, but I’ll go with the flow. No fucking way am I giving up on this job. So if I have to care for this dog, then so be it. Besides, when I look at her and those cute, round eyes, it doesn’t feel so bad. Especially when she sticks out her tongue as she waggles on the floor.

  I chuckle and hide the laughter in my sleeve when TJ glances at me over his shoulder.

  I guess I’d better get used to his intimate gaze.

  Chapter 6

  TJ

  She keeps looking down at the dog like Pepper’s suddenly going to snap at her. I don’t know why she’s so afraid of that little squirt. Pepper couldn’t hurt anyone, ever. It’s not in her nature. I would keep her myself if I could, but I already have my own dog, and we’ve got to leave some for the employees.

  Besides, I think this is a perfect way to initiate Lesley into the company. Start with a bang, right?

  Except I can tell she’s definitely struggling. The dog keeps yanking her from place to place as Pepper’s trying to greet every one of the employees we come across, and Lesley’s not prepared for the way the leash tugs her along. She needs to find her bearings. I thought a smaller dog would be easier, but I guess no dog is easy for her.

  “Whoa, not so fast!” she yells as Pepper sprints toward the water bowl.

  I smile and bite my lip, shaking my head.

  “I saw that.”

  I glance over my shoulder and see Beau standing there, snooping again.

  “You saw nothing,” I say.

  “Uh-huh …” He rolls his eyes.

  I ignore his obvious taunt and follow Lesley as she fights for control of the leash.

  “Oh, my god,” she mutters as I approach. “Couldn’t you give me an easier dog?”

  “This one was the only one available right now. Sorry.” I shrug.

  “Sorry, my ass,” she growls, trying to rope in the dog who’s jumping on another employee’s leg.

  “Stop it!” Lesley says to Pepper. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “That’s not the dog’s fault,” I reply.