by Leslie North
Besides, she’d done all she could do as Arthur Dawson’s personal assistant. She’d wanted a challenge…well, she’d certainly gotten it.
And most days, she couldn’t tell which was the greater challenge: getting Basri to stay on track or keeping herself from fantasizing the steamiest situations with him. It was those easy grins that pushed her over the edge—like she’d inspired the most genuine smile possible. They seared into her core. It didn’t help that whenever his hand brushed hers in planning sessions, her panties instantly got wet.
And dammit, it was even endearing when she had to keep tabs on him, like reminding him to eat lunch on his particularly inspired days or helping him hunt down the important papers he consistently misplaced. Only a week together and she could read him like a fascinating and bizarre book.
The most bothersome sign of her irrational lustfulness for her boss was when he’d left work early on Friday, walking out with a gorgeous Lebanese woman she’d never seen before, someone who looked destined for the cover of Vogue instead of the world of software. She wanted to scream after him, “Who is she? And what the hell do you think you’re doing with her?” She’d watched them disappear down the hallway with a knot in her chest, feeling more crushed than seemed reasonable. She spit out her toothpaste, studying the bright blue and white streaks it left on the sink. The more he frustrated her, the hornier she got, it seemed. Like all those cocky smiles he sent her way were somehow private, or meant just for her.
But that’s just how he is—an irresponsible CEO who flirts his way through life and only wants to do things his way.
Juliette splashed water on her face and then padded into the dimly lit bedroom, grabbing her phone from the nightstand. She dialed her sister’s number, heading for the living room of the apartment to lie on the couch while they talked.
The world outside her balcony door was just rousing; deep azure hues threatened to spill into daylight. The hint of dawn peeking over the horizon, and the streets below were mostly quiet.
“Hello?”
Juliette grinned. She could hear the excitement in her sister’s voice already. “Hey, Annabel. Good morning.”
“You mean good night.” Annabel snickered. “This is our first Monday chat!”
“You mean Sunday,” Juliette mocked her.
“Whatever. So how is it? I’ve been dying to get the full recap of your first week.”
Juliette nestled into the plush leather couch. “I would say I don’t know where to begin, but actually, I know exactly where to begin.”
“Spill it.”
“My boss.” Juliette crossed her ankles on the small coffee table in front of the couch. “He is a total mess.”
“How so?”
“Well, he’s prone to vanishing. Like, abduction-style vanishing. No one in the office knows where he goes or for how long; it’s just a crapshoot as to when he’ll return.”
Annabel gasped. “Is that allowed?”
“When you’re the CEO and everyone’s used to it? You betcha. And his schedule…my God. You should see it. Forget hourly planners. This guy schedules meetings for ‘sometime on Tuesday’ or ‘by the end of the week’ and acts like this is totally normal.”
Annabel laughed. “Well, that’s why he has you.”
“Exactly.” Juliette rubbed at her face. “But he’s more of a challenge than I ever expected. He fights me on everything I do. Sometimes I think he’s trying to run me out.”
“No, I don’t think so. Otherwise he wouldn’t have hired you.”
“Well, his mother hired me, if that tells you anything.”
Annabel clucked her tongue. “Still. Someone in the family wants you there.”
“Arthur was never this much trouble,” Juliette went on. “He at least made it known that he wanted me there.”
“I’m sure this is just an adjustment period. He’s used to no structure. Besides, you’re exactly the expert who can handle this situation.”
Juliette sighed. Her sister was right, but she liked to grumble about it. “Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s pretty clear he’s immature, but beyond that, this guy is smoking hot! I looked him up online the other day. Holy crap!”
Juliette shifted, unsure how to respond. She wanted to gush about him, to mention the absentminded habit he had of rubbing his thumb over his opposite thumbnail, like it was a magic lamp, or that dark, sultry gaze that made her feel like she was crushing on a celebrity from her childhood all over again. She wanted to confess the hundreds of times she’d already imagined kissing those plump lips of his or running her fingers through that black mess of his hair.
“I’m too busy to notice,” she finally croaked out.
“Well, he at least has a good heart. I was reading about that new software he’s working on, the Acumen thing.”
Juliette nodded. This had been the focal point of the Azhar work in recent months, an educational software poised to launch that would revolutionize the teaching world…if only anybody could afford it. “It’s a great product, for sure. Unfortunately, only private schools will be able to get it. And not even a lot of them. Basri poured hundreds of millions into developing Acumen; he’ll never recoup it unless they put a hefty price tag on it.”
As her sister spoke, Juliette’s alarm went off, church bells that reminded her of wintry holidays back home. She sighed, swiping it off. “Anna, that was my warning alarm to get ready for work. I have to go. I have a week to get Basri ready for a big board meeting.”
“Okay, sis. I love you. Have a great week. I know you’ll knock it out of the park. Talk to you soon.”
“Love you too, sis. I’ll keep trying to make this work.”
Juliette hung up, letting the silence of the apartment wash over her, like a meditative start to the work day. Basri was certainly the biggest challenge of her career, but it was this sort of rat maze that brought out the best in her and pushed her to new heights.
Basri wouldn’t get the best of her. She could tame any CEO, anywhere in the world.
Even the hottest, most disorganized boss she’d ever wanted to sleep with.
Basri sat at his desk, rifling through paperwork. It was the day of the big presentation, and he wanted to go over all his reports one last time before the big reveal to the board. Besides, he knew the sight of him at his desk would calm Juliette, whose emotions and moods he was beginning to read like a crystal ball, after a couple weeks of working in close quarters.
She was fiercely serious about her work, which instantly made him curious to know why. It was as if she had sights for nothing else in life but her work. The woman had moved from New York to work with him here. Maybe it really was all about money for her. But the fact that he didn’t know gnawed at him. He needed to know what made her tick on the inside.
Juliette pushed into his office, strolling slowly toward him while she swiped on a tablet. It was like melting a glacier, sometimes, to get her to laugh with him or open up even remotely. But he figured inviting her to the bar after work wouldn’t go over well. He’d have to get crafty—just so he could know her better.
He paused in his rifling to watch her approach, loving her presence in the office—even when it sometimes felt more like a whip than a caress. “Yes?”
“Your schedule.” She cleared her throat, showing him the tablet. Already he could sense the shift in the tone of her voice, the way she’d hardened. She must have noticed his changes. “What happened to it?”
He grinned up at her. No reaction. “I cancelled Friday’s appointments.”
Her mouth thinned to a line. “Yes, I know. But why, Basri?”
“I can’t honor them. Not with all the other things coming up.”
She sighed, slumping into the chair in front of his desk. “Listen, do you want my help or not?”
The question stunned him, left him slack-jawed and without a voice. “Wh—”
“Why am I even working here if you’re going to undermine me at every turn?” She scoffed, gestur
ing to the tablet. “You can’t do shit like this.”
Basri waved her off, like it might slough off some of the anger. “I’m a creative, Juliette. Haven’t you noticed this by now? You’ve been here two weeks. This is the first thing you need to know about me.” He leaned back in his chair, reaching for the pen he liked to click compulsively to soothe his nerves. “I don’t work inside tiny boxes on a calendar. I like group meetings and crowdsourcing ideas, open forum stuff.”
Juliette squinted at him, as if he’d started speaking a foreign language. She pushed up out of the chair and then grabbed a squishy ball at the edge of his desk. She lobbed it at him, not hard enough to hurt, but he caught it, laughing. She didn’t join in.
“Luckily, I backed up your calendar last night. So you will be attending those Friday meetings.” She straightened herself, smoothing down the front of her black skirt. It fit her nicely, highlighting all his favorite parts about her lower half.
“Sorry, I can’t. I have new plans.” He shook his head. “I’m going on a trip.”
Juliette froze, her mouth falling open. “You can’t be serious. Another one?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He tutted. “I have a lot of problems to solve; and this is how I solve them.”
“By running away on vacation?”
He sighed, searing her with a look. She misunderstood him, just like all the others. And after so many years, he got tired of explaining himself. Defending himself to each new outsider, each new player. “If you want to see for yourself how I work, you should come with me. You’re totally welcome to join.”
Juliette blinked a few times, her face showing neither approval or disapproval. Inviting her out for a drink would have been too forward. But inviting her on the trip was just the right mix of business and pleasure.
“Where are you even going?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. Probably something wilderness-related. Maybe a survival hike.”
She huffed in disbelief. “Well…listen. Are you at least prepared for your presentation today? You need to have the pricing structures from the finance department in hand.”
“Of course.” He grinned at her, gesturing to the papers he’d pushed aside. “Going over them right here like a good little boy…Mother.”
Her eyes shrunk to slits. “Will you be able to arrive on time at the meeting, or should I come get you?”
“Please, by all means, come get me.” He upped the wattage on his smile, enjoying the flush in her neck as he did so. She was easy to rile up once he’d pushed her to a specific ledge. And he liked what happened when they got to that point. Made it easier to imagine them sometime reaching that point where the frustration melted into kissing and all the walls would come down.
Juliette spun on her heel and left the office, leaving a tense wake, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
There was something sexy about the way she managed him. It was the most gratifying game of cat and mouse, one that was sure to come to an interesting head if only he could convince her to come on the trip with him.
3
Juliette checked her watch, waiting until precisely 2:55 p.m. before barging into Basri’s office. She’d make punctuality his middle name, but only by example. Even though she’d been dying for an excuse to go see him since earlier that day.
His sexy words still rang in her ears, making it hard to focus on much of anything. Come get me. Was that an invitation? The subtle lift of his eyebrow told her maybe he’d meant something far, far different than simply finding him prior to the board meeting.
Or is that just your dirty fantasies about the boss speaking?
She paused outside his door, checking her watch one last time, and then pushed inside.
Basri was nowhere to be found. His desk was immaculate and empty. Her mouth fell open. God dammit, Basri, where have you gone now?
Panic churned in her gut; if he’d ghosted, then nothing she could do would save him. If he was hellbent on digging his own grave, then he could lie in it.
She stormed out of his office, heading for the board room. Please let there be a miracle that looks exactly like Basri already sitting in the meeting. On her way to the board room, thoughts about Basri stalked through her mind like a predator. What irritated her the most was how he never let anything get under his skin.
Or was that the thing she liked the most? It was hard to tell anymore with him. Frustration blurred into lust. All she knew was that her last boss had run on stress and coffee, and she’d often worried for his health. Basri, at least, wouldn’t die an early death from a heart attack.
More likely it would come from a bear attack in the Alps, or wherever he went while dodging his work at the office.
By the time she reached the board room, she was ready to pop from the tension. Please be here, Basri. Don’t make me hate you. She pushed the door open, a sterile waft of air reaching her. Board members—most of them middle-aged, dark-haired men with varying degrees of hard stares—filled the chairs around the long conference table.
Basri looked up at her from the head of the table, his dark hair boyishly disheveled. He permanently looked like he was the star of a Gap ad, one of the rugged 20-somethings pegged to wear khakis and look moody while climbing mountains.
Maybe he did actually climb mountains in his free time. She was suddenly desperate to know.
Basri gestured for her to take a seat beside him at the head of the table, in the only open seat remaining. She hurried to join him, relief pounding through her. If only she could grab him by the lapels of his coat and kiss his gorgeous face.
“I think we can begin,” Basri said once she’d settled into place. So she’d been the late one today, for once. She cleared her throat, smiling politely at the other board members as they launched into their agenda.
While a few mundane opening items were covered, Juliette glanced over at Basri, finding his gaze waiting for hers. A shiver coursed through her. Seemed like maybe he was paying more attention to her than to the board meeting, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. She forced her attention back to her tablet and the notes she was supposed to be taking.
Once the agenda reached the main item—the launch of Acumen—one of the younger board members, Tarek, took the lead.
“As we all know, Acumen is poised to enter the educational software market,” he began. “Today’s main focus is establishing the price point. We want to see Acumen succeed, but we also want to see a sizeable profit margin. The final investment in this product exceeded our budget by almost half.”
Basri cleared his throat, tapping his pen against his thumb. Juliette could feel the words burbling up inside him, a sensitivity to his emotions that grew more acute every day.
“In order to recoup this extremely high cost, it’s our job to set a marketable yet liberal profit margin, one that will not only set the standard for the software, but one that will help our company move toward other outstanding goals.” Tarek paused, glancing around the table. “Now I believe Basri will be sharing the projected price point.”
Basri smiled, shifting in his seat. “Thank you.” He rifled through a folder, pulling out a report that Juliette recognized, one that she’d helped him assemble earlier in the week. “As you all know, the mainstay of Acumen is the crowdsourcing aspect. Educational material uploaded onto the system becomes available in any area of the network. While phase one involves a soft launch here in Lebanon, the overall goal is to reach international markets, with final phase development seeing this software as the most widely used educational tool the world over.”
A small murmur of agreement rippled through the meeting.
“The effects of this program could be farther-reaching than we can properly envision. It may very well change the face of education. Yet even a modest introductory price, paired with the task of recuperating the development costs, would put this system at $150,000 per school.”
More murmurs of agreement from the board members. Juliette relaxed into her
seat, pleased by the direction of this meeting. Basri sounded surprisingly capable and in control. Maybe she was finally getting to him.
“The projected profit at this price point would be billions, if even a fraction of schools purchased it worldwide.” Basri paused, shuffling through his papers, the air around him tightening like the shift before a storm. “But currently only two private schools in the entirety of Lebanon could withstand this insane price without cutting additional programs and lessening the overall impact of their current educational standards. Do two schools make a crowd?”
A tense silence coated the room. The faces of the board members reflected a strange anxiety, as if the entire room didn’t like where this was headed.
“So, how do we solve this?” Basri leaned back into his chair, his face eerily serious. When he played the stoic businessman part, he looked like someone else entirely. “Any ideas?”
“Once we make back our costs in a few years, we can begin a rental program of the software,” someone spoke up. “A way to recoup costs now, and then begin branching out down the road.”
“Excellent idea,” another spoke up. “A rental program would be fantastic. Long-term, passive income that could sustain the company for years.”
Basri nodded, studying the table top, his fingers locked together. “I think I know a better solution. We offer Acumen for free.”
Juliette could almost hear the jaws clattering to the ground.
“We offer this program for free to any school that wants it,” Basri went on, his eyes lighting up. “I’ll be personally reducing my salary to help cover some of the costs of distribution and installation. The primary method of recouping the cost of Acumen will be via the upcoming Solira project, which targets corporate entities.”
Juliette blinked, unable to look away from Basri while he spoke. There was something undeniably sexy about his altruism, but shock made uncomfortable waves ripple through her.
