by Aurora, Lexi
I brought the coffee back upstairs to Patricia, who didn’t even look at me as she swept out of the room.
“Do some dusting, would you?” she asked on her way out. “It’s bothering my allergies.”
I gritted my teeth, about to open my mouth to protest when she shut the door behind her. I sighed and got to work, knowing that there was nothing else that I could do. It was a few hours later before she showed up again, almost time for me to leave for the day. I picked up my bag and put it over my shoulder.
“Goodnight, Patricia,” I said to her, trying to hurry out the door.
“Wait a moment, Violet, I need you to do one more thing for me,” Patricia said. I gave a deep sigh, not trying to hide how annoyed I was.
“What?”
“I need you to go find Cooper Maverick and send him here,” the woman said.
“Cooper Maverick?” I asked. “The board member’s son?”
An annoyed look passed over the woman’s face.
“Currently a board member, yes. A board member who will not answer his phone. I need you to go get him for a meeting in an hour.”
“But—” I began.
“He is staying at the Copper Hotel,” Patricia said. “You can ask for him in the lobby. Tell him that we need to see him as soon as possible.”
“That’s not on my way home,” I protested.
“Am I putting too much pressure on you, Violet? Do you think you’re going to have trouble doing this job?”
I swallowed hard. “No.”
She smiled then. “Good. Please let Mr. Maverick know that we are waiting for him.”
“Okay,” I said to her, and turned and left without saying goodbye.
I sighed deeply as I walked to the train station in the opposite direction of the one I took home, waiting in a crowd of people for the evening train to come. I stared at my watch, nearly growling in frustration when the bus hadn’t come within ten minutes of the anticipated arrival time. The ride itself was forty minutes, which meant that if Cooper Maverick didn’t have a very fast car or the ability to fly, he would definitely be late for his meeting. I sighed, glancing at my watch to see that it was nearly 7:30 by the time the train rolled onto the tracks. I hurried on, finding a seat near the back and sitting there miserably as I waited for my stop. It was after eight by the time I got there, and it took another five minutes to walk from the station to the hotel. The place was massive, at least twenty stories, luxurious and built to look like an old Roman palace. I went inside, walking quickly to the front counter, where a man with a polite smile stood.
“Hello, welcome to—”
“I’m looking for Cooper Maverick,” I said, the words rushing frantically out of my mouth. “Cooper Maverick. Do you know what room he’s in?”
“I cannot tell you where a guest is roomed, ma’am,” the man said. I sighed in frustration.
“Can you call him? Or tell him I’m here? My name is Violet Ingrid. I’m with Maverick Ad Agency.”
“I can—”
“Cooper’s over there, honey,” came a voice behind me. I turned to see a woman who looked like a model, with long legs and pale skin.
“Where?” I asked her. She nodded in the direction in the bar.
“Over there. He’s probably with a woman. You shouldn’t interrupt him unless—”
“Unless?” I asked.
“Unless you’d rather go up to his room instead,” the girl said, leaning in close to me. “I highly recommend it.”
“Uh, no thanks,” I said to her, pulling away. “I just need to talk to him. Thank you.”
“Mhm, honey,” the woman said, and I walked past her toward the bar, cursing when I realized that I didn’t know what Cooper Maverick looked like. I searched the booths and the tables, most of which were filled with couples, though most of them were older than Cooper probably was. I spotted a man with a woman at the bar, a flirty smile on his face as he sipped from a glass of amber liquid on ice. The man was handsome, obviously tall, broad with dark brown waves and eyes that I could tell were blue even from across the room. His cheekbones were prominent, jaw strong and square, and I knew immediately that it had to be him—I had heard from other women in the office that Cooper Maverick was handsome, but I hadn’t been prepared for what he was really like, especially when he turned his eyes to mine.
“Can I help you?” he asked. The woman he was with stared at me with open disdain. She was thin and gorgeous, just as pretty as the last, and looked nothing like me in any way. Where she was dainty with curves in all the right places, I had thick hips and thighs, a soft belly and breasts that were heavy and full.
“Are—are you Cooper Maverick?” I asked, cursing myself for stumbling over my words. “I’m Violet Ingrid.”
“Hello, Violet,” he said, his eyes on mine. There was a look of interest there, of curiosity that for some reason made me blush and look away. “What can I do for you?”
“Um—”
“I’m going to use the restroom, Cooper,” said the woman in a haughty tone, giving me a disgusted look. “I’ll be back.”
“Fine,” said Cooper in a bored voice, his eyes still on me.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Ingrid?” he asked politely.
“There’s a meeting. At the office. Patricia wanted you there. She said that you didn’t answer your phone, so she sent me to find you.”
“What time is this meeting?” Cooper asked, looking at his watch.
“It was supposed to be at eight,” I said to him lamely. He stared at me, raising one eyebrow.
“And she just now sent you to get me?”
“The train was running late,” I explained. He stared at me as he took a sip of his drink, his eyes darting briefly down to my lips, almost imperceptible.
“What do you expect me to do with the knowledge that I have missed an important meeting because the public transportation was running late?” he asked in a cold voice. I glared at him.
“I was told to come get you. I’m getting you.”
“I see,” he said. “You’re getting me over half an hour late. You do realize how useless that is, right?”
“Look, I’m sorry I’m late, but—”
“You just start working for Patricia?” he asked.
“I was working with Dirk.”
“Oh,” he said. “How did you get transferred downstairs?”
I gritted my teeth. “That’s really none of your business.”
He laughed. “It is my business. It is literally my business. Tell me.”
“They’re waiting for you at the office,” I said, turning away from him. I wasn’t going to indulge his teasing, that cocky way he probably always had with women. I had done my job, and I just wanted to get away from him. I ignored him when he called after me, waving him off.
“Rude girl,” he said, and I heard him chuckle as I walked away.
Chapter 2: Cooper
I stared after the girl, both irritated and amused with her attitude and her lateness. There was something about her that was captivating, a sway of her full hips as she walked that I couldn’t take my eyes off of. Violet wasn’t the sort of woman I was usually attracted to and yet I found myself appreciating that walk, her round, perfect ass, the angry look on her pretty face when she spoke to me. She was a cute girl, with roses on her cheeks, bright green eyes and pale blonde hair. Her lips had been full, pulled down in a disapproving frown. I chuckled and got up, tossing a bill on the bar, leaving without saying goodbye to the woman I’d been with. I didn’t even know her name, but she had been beautiful, somebody to pass the time with as I had a drink.
I made my way to my car, glancing toward the train station to see that Violet was still walking toward it. I sighed, starting my car, turning it around and slowly pulling up next to her. She clutched her purse, walking faster before I rolled down the window.
“I’ll give you a ride home,” I said. “Get in.”
“No,” she spat. “No. I’d rather walk. Thanks.”
>
“Violet—”
“I don’t even know you,” she said. “And you’re an asshole. No thanks.”
“You do know I’m your boss, right?”
“You’re not my boss,” Violet said. “You’re just a board member. You’re never even there.”
I had to laugh, though it irked me that she wouldn’t accept the ride. It was cold outside, and I didn’t like the thought of her walking home alone. “Okay, Violet. Have a good night.”
“Yeah,” she said, walking further onto the sidewalk, away from my car. I rolled up the window and drove to the office, unable to stop worrying about Violet by herself. It was ridiculous—I didn’t even know the woman, but I did know that she was fierce and lovely, as irritating as it was.
I got to the office and parked in my spot, hurrying up to the sixth floor to Dirk’s office. I knocked when I got there and he answered it with a grin, shoving his hand out to shake mine.
“Cooper,” he said, his voice friendly, his grin too wide for his face. “It’s nice to see you. How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine,” I said to him. I had no interest in making conversation with this man, or with Patricia, who was grinning at him in a way that was equally unsettling.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said to them. Dirk waved me off.
“Nonsense. The party starts when you get here,” he said, chuckling. I didn’t smile at him. I knew exactly why he was being so friendly—they had done the same thing to my father when he was alive. They tried to butter him up, get him to sell his share of the business, the branch that was located in Texas. My father had warned me that they would try it with me, too, but he had also made me promise that I would never sell to them, no matter what.
“What did you need to see me for?” I asked him, trying to keep my voice patient. It was late, and I wanted to go home. In the back of my mind, the girl’s face was there, angry but adorable in her own way.
“We were wondering how you’ve been doing after your father passed, that’s all,” Dirk said, folding his hands together on the desk. I almost snorted at the total lack of sincerity in his voice.
“I’m fine,” I said to them. “With the cancer—he had been sick for years. It was not unexpected.”
“That’s true,” Dirk said. “But it hurt us all, nonetheless. There’s no doubt about that. Your father was a valuable member of this board.”
“He was,” I said to them, keeping my voice calm, though I wanted to call him out for being so transparent. The rest of the board had always hated my father for the way he ran the Texas branch, always putting his employees first, giving them benefits that were above and beyond what was required by law for full-time employees. The others had always told him he was wasting money, and the main reason my father had kept hold of his share was because he had feared that his employees might be laid off if he sold it and quit the board all together.
“Well, I’ll get to the point,” Dirk said. “As you know, we tried for years to buy your father’s share of the company. He just didn’t want to give it up.”
“My father was very loyal to this firm,” I said to them. Dirk nodded.
“We never saw you as particularly interested in the business,” Dirk said. “I must say, we were surprised when you refused to sell.”
“It was important to my father that I continue,” I said to them. Dirk gave me a smile.
“Of course, of course. You’re loyal to your father. But don’t you think that he would want you to have the freedom to pursue what you really love? He said you were an artist. What do you make?”
“I’m a painter,” I said to him through gritted teeth. I couldn’t stand the way he was talking, sucking up, trying to convince me of something I didn’t want to do. My father had told me about these power plays and how they usually went—with my father saying no and Dirk sighing, waiting until the next month or so to bring it up again.
“Wouldn’t you want time to do that?” Dirk asked. “A young man like you, plenty of money. You can spend your time creating art instead of—”
“I appreciate your concern that I’m not pursuing my passion, Mr. Porter, but I am not selling my share of the business. I want to be involved.”
Dirk didn’t say anything for a moment, but then he gave a nonchalant wave.
“That’s fine. We thought you’d say that. We have another proposal for you.”
“What’s that?” I asked warily.
“We want you to test out managing the business branch down in Texas,” Dirk said. “See how you like it there. We think you’d be a good fit.”
“I—”
“Now, I know what you’re thinkin’,” Dirk said with a grin. “You’re not going to do that job without being on the payroll. Don’t you worry. The position is open and it has your name on it. We’re talking a six-figure salary.”
I gave him a dry look.
“Great,” I said sarcastically. He beamed at me then, taking my word for agreement.
“We want to go ahead and send you in a couple of days. Think that’s long enough to get your things packed?” Dirk asked.
“Sure,” I said to him, trying to keep my voice calm and pleasant. Dirk stood up then, reaching forward to shake my hand.
“Congratulations,” he said, as if the whole thing wasn’t a ploy to get rid of me. “You got yourself a job.”
“Thanks,” I said to him, telling him and Patricia goodbye before I left the office, wondering what the hell was in store for me in Texas.
Keep reading Wrong Job – it is available online!
PREVIEW: Bought out by the Billionaire by Lexi Aurora
Chapter 1: Sloane
I woke up early, before the sun was up, stretching as I blinked the sleep out of my eyes. I glanced over to see that my daughter, Rosie, was asleep in bed, her long eyelashes fanned out over her delicate cheeks. Her hair was messy and curled around her face, and her mouth was hanging open as she slept. I smiled, my heart feeling as warm as it always did when I looked at my girl. I slipped out of bed quietly and grabbed the clothes I had laid out for myself the night before, tiptoeing out of the bedroom we shared and into the bathroom down the hall. I undressed and got into the shower, finally washing off the flour that still coated my skin in a layer from yesterday. By the time the bakery had closed last night, I’d been too exhausted to do anything but drop into bed after giving Rosie a kiss good night.
After I got dressed and ready for the day, I crept down the hallway to my mother’s room and knocked softly on the door. I pushed it open gently, careful not to let it squeak the way it sometimes did if it swung on its hinges too fast.
“Mama,” I said quietly, peeking into the room. My mother was sleeping. She blinked her eyes at me and sat up.
“Hey, honey,” she said in a drowsy voice, sounding like she was still half-asleep. “You going downstairs?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Rose is still asleep. Have her come down when she wakes up.”
“Okay,” she responded. I shut the door quietly and walked away, down the stairs and into the back room of our family bakery. I flipped on the lights as I went through the room, illuminating the kitchen, which was small but could perform miracles in the right hands. Those hands used to be my father’s, and his father’s before that. This bakery and this house had been in my family for generations, and I had grown up thinking of it as home.
I turned on the ovens to prepare for the day, standing close to them as they heated up. It was always cold in the bakery in the mornings, especially during the fall and winter, but when the ovens got going the place felt warm and inviting. I pulled out the ingredients I needed to start the morning with our usual selection—fresh-baked muffins and warm, fluffy biscuits, as well as cinnamon rolls that melted on the tongue. The cinnamon rolls were my favorite, and Rosie had a taste for them as well. They usually sold out fast, so every once in a while I would set one aside for her for when she woke up. I made a note to do so this morning; I had missed her last night. W
e’d had a special event at the bakery that had kept me up late cleaning up the place, and I hadn’t made it upstairs until after she had gone to bed.
As I started to mix the ingredients for the rolls, I thought back to last night and the conversation I’d had with our neighbor. I had wanted to tell my mother about it right away but didn’t want to wake her when I got upstairs. The conversation gnawed at me and had kept me up all night. Our neighbor, Mr. Eustacio, who owned the laundromat next door, had told me that some big development company was proposing to the city to buy the buildings on our block and wanted to develop it into condos. I thought about losing this place, the only home I’d ever known, the place I loved and worked and lived, and it made me sad.
When my father got sick and began his rapid decline from his diagnosis to his final days, he confessed to me that he wanted to see me take over the business and then pass it on to the next generation. I told him I would do whatever it took to make the dream a reality, that it was my wish too. An offer from a development company would probably be for so much money it would feel like I was playing Monopoly, but some things don’t have a price tag. I would never sell, no matter how tempting the offer was. I loved this place like it was a part of my family.
I sighed as I flattened out the dough with my hands, then began to roll it out with a pin, putting all of my muscle into it. I found the motions soothing and comfortable, especially since I found that I could put all of my aggression into rolling and the dough would benefit from the effort. The truth was, the money we’d get from selling this place would help us in every way. Since taking over the bakery, I was struggling to make ends meet. My father was a gifted baker and had the biggest heart of anyone I knew, but he wasn’t the greatest businessman. It took me weeks after his funeral to find the courage to go into his office and look through the business files. I was surprised to find the state they were in. He didn’t have files so much as piles. There were about two dozen banker boxes filled with papers in no discernible order. I’d find a bank statement, a Christmas card from his college roommate’s family, and a handwritten grocery list all in the same box.
