Crazy for the Boss (Crazy in Love Book 1)

by Ashlee Mallory

  His grandfather held out his hand. “Miss Taylor. Pleased to meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s mine, sir.”

  “I’ll see you next week at Thanksgiving dinner,” he said, returning his attention to James. “And remember what I said.”

  Without any further pleasantries, Cyrus left, leaving James with the same mixed level of emotions he’d always been left with anytime he was in his grandfather’s company. “Let me call down and see if my driver is ready.”

  Quinn nodded, her eyes a little wide, and she glanced back over her shoulder, leaving James to wonder exactly how much of that conversation she’d heard.

  Well, probably best to let her know what they were working against here. And what they both had to lose.

  Chapter 5

  “James, I really need you to look over these documents and sign off on them,” Quinn said, walking into his office Friday, nearly one month into her new job.

  James took a swing at an imaginary golf ball, holding his pose for a long ten seconds before glancing back at her with a grin. “How’d I do?”

  Seriously? He had nothing better to do? “Frankly, I haven’t a clue. The responses are due tomorrow with the Oregon Civil Rights Division,” she said again, holding them toward him.

  “I’m sure that whatever you prepared will work nicely.”

  “I’m sure, as well, but like I told you, there were some red flags that came up when I was talking to employees and preparing these. Possibly some missteps from a couple of our managers that I think might make it worth our time to agree to mediate.”

  He looked at his watch. “Okay. How long will it take? I’m actually heading out right now for something. Can we go over them on the way to the airport?”

  “I’m going to need at least an hour.”

  “Come along with me, then. I’m just heading to San Diego. You’ll have my undivided attention almost the entire trip. No distractions.”

  She hesitated. “We’d have to be back by seven.”

  “Hot date?” he asked, raising a brow.

  She rolled her eyes. Right, as if she had time for dating. “Anna just got a promotion at work and we’re taking her out to celebrate.”

  “Then let’s get going.”

  Nearly two hours later, the car that had picked them up from the private airstrip upon landing pulled in front of a Mexican restaurant. There was a line of people hovering by the entrance that was bedecked with Christmas lights and garland in a strangely inviting and festive way, reminding her that Christmas was merely three days away.

  “James? Why are we stopping here?” she asked, already afraid she knew the answer.

  “You’ve never been to Juan Carlos before? They have the best tacos and freshly made pico de gallo in the entire state of California,” he responded without actually answering her question.

  Was he joking? “Please tell me that the important business meeting that you required I accompany you to isn’t sitting at the bar and stuffing your face with tacos?”

  “Well, it won’t just be tacos. There will be pico de gallo. And rice pudding or flan depending on my mood. Believe me when I say it will be a step up from the stuffy office Christmas party that I’ve rescued you from.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Are you completely out of your mind? You know I barely have enough time in the day right now trying to file these responses, not to mention organizing and putting together the PowerPoint presentation for our first managers’ legal training on discrimination, harassment, and labor laws that starts in two weeks and review the latest round of proposals from the Blossom Brew group.”

  He drew his face into a serious expression. “Duly noted. But besides escaping the dreary office party, we also were able to finalize both responses, and you filled me in on your progress in finding an employee-assistance program that might suit our needs.”

  He had a point. Not to mention that, by slipping out, she’d fended off Mike from marketing’s attempt to corner her to discuss some of his personal legal issues that had nothing to do with his job. Something she found was common—a few in the executive level trying to bum some free legal advice. Last week she’d counseled Fran from IT about whether she should fight an HOA fine after her dog crapped on the rug in the foyer.

  But as time-consuming as it could be, she had to admit there was something invigorating about having the trust of so many people in such a short amount of time. She felt…valued.

  Or played. Depending how you looked at it.

  She sighed, her silence being her only sign that he had a point.

  “And since we’re finally here, we might as well take advantage of the opportunity to try one of Juan Carlos’s tacos.”

  She glanced at her watch. Nearly one o’clock. “I suppose, but you have one hour and then we’re out of here.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her up from the car. An easy gesture for some but one that left her a little stunned by the contact. And not entirely…unaffected.

  Snap out of it, Quinn. This is your boss.

  Regardless, those bright, sexy eyes sometimes made her heart skip a beat when he looked at her a certain way. And the crisp white shirt spread open in a V, revealing a tantalizing amount of tanned skin, often had her eyes darting dangerously below where they should.

  Then there was the way his hand felt in hers. Warm, solid, but also sensual enough to have sent shivers straight down her spine.

  But this was James Thornhill. A man who’d told her just yesterday that a five percent pay increase to hundreds of hardworking employees who’d been working at the same salary for the past three years despite the increased cost of living was out of the question. A man who’d just spent an unknown amount of money flying to San Diego in a privately owned company jet to eat tacos.

  Like she’d told her friends, she was not and never, ever would be interested in a man like that, no matter how her traitorous body superficially reacted to his obvious charms.

  Case closed.

  An hour later, Quinn leaned back in the booth, holding her belly. Two—okay, two and a half—tacos loaded with cheese, sour cream and guacamole, a pound of chips and salsa, and half of James’s rice pudding later, and she was ready to be rolled right out of there.

  “Señor Thornhill,” a man maybe in his mid-forties said enthusiastically as he came toward them. He grabbed James’s hand when he reached the table and grinned. “You should have told me you would be coming today. I would have had Elena prepare your special dish.”

  “It was last-minute, Juan. We happened to be in the area and thought we’d grab something to eat.”

  Quinn raised her brows at that outright lie but didn’t say anything.

  “And who’s the lovely lady?” Juan asked, turning his attention to her.

  “Quinn just joined us at Thornhill,” James said. “She’s our in-house labor and employment attorney.”

  “Ah, very good to meet you, Quinn. I think you’ll find that most employees acquainted with Mr. Thornhill here are usually fairly happy in their employment.”

  “Oh? Were you employed by Thornhill?”

  “Of course, of course. James here and I both used to be line cooks at the Silver Grill.”

  She had to have misheard him. “Line cooks? James Thornhill? This man?”

  Juan chuckled at her evident disbelief. “Sí, not that he was very good at first, burned most everything. But a few weeks under my tutelage and he was nearly as good as me.”

  “You see, Quinn,” James said and reached over to take her last chip off the plate. “I am a man of many hidden talents.”

  The two men spoke about business and Juan’s family while Quinn mused at the thought of James Thornhill cooking fries and burgers, even as a teen. She’d have expected him to be at parties and ski trips to Aspen growing up, not doing anything so humble as working as a line cook.

  “Well, it is really good to see you, James,” Juan said as the waitress returned and set the paid ticket back on the table. “Bah. James,
you know your money isn’t good here. Leah, comp Mr. Thornhill’s ticket—”

  “I’m quite able to pay my own bill, Juan. You don’t have to pay for anything.”

  Juan, however, almost glared at him as he handed the bill folder back to Leah. “You would do me a great disservice if you were to not let me have the honor of feeding you.”

  James smiled. “Very well. You win.” The men took a moment to clasp hands again before Juan turned to her. “It was lovely to meet you, Ms. Taylor.”

  She smiled and took his hand again, even as she bit back the questions she wanted to ask James.

  It was only after they were seated in the backseat of the car that Quinn asked James her burning questions. “What was all that about? Why would you have been working as a line cook or any kind of cook? I imagine your weekly allowance would have been as much as some people make in a year.”

  “I have my grandfather to thank for that. He thought it was important that I be taught a little something about responsibility. Humility. Respect for what a day of hard work really means. So instead of hanging out in Europe with my friends, I was busting my balls for two summers working my way around the kitchen.”

  She’d have to wrap her head around the visual of James working in the back of the house, but for now, there was still another question. “What does Juan have to be grateful to you for?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing, really. Now, by my estimate, we still have technically another thirty minutes before we have to be leaving, and there’s this great bakery where we could pick up—”

  “You have to be kidding. You could eat? But don’t be changing the subject. What did you do for him?” she persisted.

  He rubbed his hand over the stubble that always seemed to be on his jaw, thinking about it for a moment. “A few years ago, Juan was looking for some investors to help him expand his business. He’d wanted to open up two more restaurants in the area but needed the capital to get them going. He was actually our first successful investment. We both have a lot to be grateful for.”

  She nodded, putting it together. “That’s right. You were the president of a venture capital firm before coming to Thornhill. Must have been a bit risky. Going out on limb like that for a friend.”

  “Not at all. As I suspected, the investment was sound, and he’s now expanding operations farther north. Juan Carlos has been very profitable for our investors. Well, I should say, the firm’s investors. I stepped down as president when I became CEO of Thornhill.”

  “That was quite the leap of faith. Giving up something you’d built up on your own to come back here.” Risking being replaced by the board just as his predecessor before him—whose family ties hadn’t helped him.

  James shrugged. “I don’t see there being that much difference. As a venture capitalist, I answered to the investors. Here, I now answer to the board.” He sat back in the seat, considering her question further. “To be honest, just getting out there, starting something on my own, making it a success on my own was fulfilling. Once I proved I could do it, I felt like I could move on to something bigger and more meaningful. Like coming here. Seeing what I could make of this place.”

  It was admirable, really. He could easily have just lived off his trust fund but instead had set out to prove himself and his capabilities.

  Crap. Just when she tried to pigeonhole James as the overindulged CEO, she discovered something new about him that humanized him, made her realize all over again that her first impression of the man had been unfair.

  “This bakery shop is really quite good,” James said, bringing her focus back on his face. “You said you’re taking out your friend tonight as a celebration. Anna, the health nut, correct?” She nodded, surprised he’d remembered. “I’m sure you could find a few things to tempt even her palate.”

  She smiled, relenting. “All right. Let’s give it a go.”

  “Was that a smile? I think that this ranks as a first. It looks really nice on you. You should try it more often.”

  She resettled her glasses on her nose, uncomfortable with the compliment. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Why do you say it like that?” he asked, amusement in his voice. “Like you think I’m humoring you. You do have a very nice smile. Hasn’t anyone told you that before?”

  “Loads of times,” she said sarcastically.

  He was killing her with his niceness. And that warm smile of his. She was definitely going to have to be careful here.

  Quinn had thought there couldn’t be anything worse than coming to work for the enemy. That she was crazy to even consider it.

  Considering James Thornhill as someone she might actually be attracted to would be taking that crazy to another level.

  One thing was certain—working with James was anything but boring.

  Chapter 6

  “What did you tell your family about why you’re not making it home for Christmas after all?” Anna shouted over the club music playing near fever-pitch level.

  It was later that night and the three of them were at Anna’s favorite bar, a place Tessa and Quinn were usually loath to go in great part because of its loud music and meat-market quality. But since it was Anna’s night, they’d acquiesced to their friend’s wish.

  “The truth,” Quinn hollered, hoping her voice would hold out till the end of the night. “That I’m just too swamped to try and get away from work right now. Especially with the Blossom Brew deal still being hammered out and this management training I’m heading up.”

  “But you’re going to drive up to the farmhouse on Christmas Eve with Anna and me, right?” Tess asked. “You can’t spend Christmas day alone.”

  “Of course.” She and Anna had been to Tessa’s family’s for Christmas three of the past five Christmases. Something made necessary when time constraints and budget made it impossible to make it home. “If I can’t make it home, there’s no people I’d rather spend the holidays with.”

  “Hear, hear,” Anna said and held up her martini before taking a drink. For Anna, it was a welcome relief from a lonely meal alone on those holidays when her mother, who was an anthropology professor at Berkeley, was conducting field studies of some aboriginal tribe in South America or the burial rituals of a sub-Saharan clan in Africa.

  Tessa took a drink before asking, “How’d Sabrina take the news about your not coming home?”

  Quinn’s younger sister had been less understanding about her bailing and had threatened her with bodily harm if she wasn’t there. Fortunately, Quinn had laid out a plan to help appease Sabrina, which included spearheading and footing the bill on the surprise party for her parents’ upcoming thirtieth anniversary party in February. Come hell or high water, Quinn would make sure to be there for that big event.

  A bored-looking waitress arrived with a round of shots and placed them on their table. “From the table in the corner.”

  Quinn glanced over to see, sure enough, the men who’d been admiring Anna before now grinning at them. They held their own drinks up.

  Quinn shook her head and met Tessa’s eyes. “Record time. We’ve been here less than five minutes and she already got us our next order of drinks.”

  “Why do you think it’s all about me?” Anna asked and passed the shots around the table. “Tessa is as adorable as they come, and you have that whole ice-queen thing going that a man can’t help but want to crack. In fact, I’m sure more than one of them are having some pretty scandalous thoughts about that headband of yours.”

  Almost self-consciously, Quinn’s hand when to her hair, smoothing it down over her shoulders. “Hey, it’s keeping my hair from my eyes, especially since you’ve forbidden me from stepping foot inside this place with a ponytail or any such variation.”

  “And since when do you listen to me?” Anna shot back playfully. “Considering I’ve begged you to consider wearing your contacts so you can stop hiding behind those glasses.”

  “You know why I wear these.”

  “Yeah, because you
were the new kid on the block at the law firm and you were trying to show that by looking like a brainiac, you are a brainiac. But you’re not there anymore. You don’t have to prove anything.”

  “I beg to differ with you. Most of the executive managers are male and over fifty and think of me as some little girl playing dress-up with no knowledge of how the real world works. They’re old-school managers with old-school ideas—none of which include taking any kind of guidance or training from me. So for now, I think I’ll keep the status quo. Besides, I have no one I need to impress. Not that way.”

  “Well, tonight you’re off the clock. Why are you still hiding behind your glasses?”

  “The smoke bothers my eyes.”

  Her friends both laughed. “You do realize there’s no smoking in here.”

  “It drifts in from outside,” Quinn said, not ready to lose the fight.

  “If we’re going to hope for another round, we need to chug these down, ladies,” Anna said.

  Tess held hers up and Quinn joined her, holding her shot glass up. “To Anna. And to starting adventures.”

  Quinn threw hers back and was just swallowing the fiery liquid when a familiar face across the room had her choking, her eyes watering.

  What was he doing here? She hadn’t mentioned where she was going to him tonight, had she?

  Anna laughed, pounding her back. “You sure are a lightweight.”

  “It’s not that,” she said, still staring in disbelief. “Over there.”

  Anna and Tessa glanced over to the bar, where a group of women were fawning all over Thornhill Management’s CEO, who didn’t appear to mind.

  “Is that…?” Tess asked.

  “If you mean my boss, then yes.”

  Anna whistled under her breath. “He sure is easy on the eyes. And you get to stare at that mug every day? No wonder you work so many late nights at the office,” she said and laughed along with Tessa.