Taking Over (Like a Boss Book 2)

by Serenity Woods

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Taking Over

  Like a Boss: 2

  by Serenity Woods

  *

  Copyright 2017 Serenity Woods

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter One

  Gabriella

  It’s a bright spring afternoon, and, for the first time in months, I don’t feel as if the world is coming to an end.

  My mood might be due to the beautiful pink blossom from the cherry trees blowing across the lawns like confetti outside the conference room. Or it might be the new suit I’m wearing that I bought for today, because I wanted to look smart for the Japanese investors.

  Or it might be the fact that the guy sitting at the far end of the table hasn’t taken his eyes off me since I walked into the room.

  I know who he is: Harrison Grant, one of the four directors of Hearktech, the telecommunications company I work for. Harrison is, quite possibly, the most gorgeous guy in the history of the world, ever. Maybe in the history of the universe. He’s around six-foot-two, and even though I’ve only seen him in a suit, I just know that beneath his crisp white shirts his body is so tanned and toned it would make a girl’s fingers itch to touch it. And his face… oh, his face. Movie-star handsome, and with a pair of warm brown eyes that have creases at the corners because he’s always smiling.

  But I’m not interested. Yes, he might be god-like and have featured in my dreams every night since I started work at the firm, and his sex appeal might be like strong cologne, making women turn and inhale when he walks past, and he might be filthy rich, with an emphasis on the filthy, judging from what I’ve heard in the lunch room, and… wait, where was I? Oh yes, I’m not interested. For a hundred reasons that I remind myself of every night when I lay in bed panting and sticky in the darkness from yet another Harrison-induced fantasy.

  Recently, my life has been turned upside down and inside out, and I’m not looking for a man right now. I have plans, and none of them involve staying here and dating, even if the guy happens to be a descendent of Apollo. I’m working hard and saving my money, and I’m going to leave this crappy city behind and travel the world until the memory of everything that’s happened here has become a distant blur.

  Besides which, I’ve met Harrison’s type before. Men who look that good are mostly arrogant, self-obsessed, and convinced every woman they meet is going to fall ass over tit for them. Annoyingly, they’re usually right, and because of that they go through women like ordinary men go through socks. They use them and discard them, and as much as it pains me to admit that being ‘used’ by a guy like him in a sexy way might feature in some of my fantasies, there’s no way I’d ever hand my heart to this sort of man.

  Until today, I was convinced that Harrison Grant wouldn’t have looked at me twice. I’ve been working at the company for three months, for Christ’s sake, and I don’t think he’s even been aware I’ve existed. And then today I walked into the conference room to find his eyes fixed on me, making me feel as if he can see through my new suit to my lacy underwear.

  “Are you okay?” The question is whispered by Colette Holmes, the marketing assistant who started here just before me. The two of us are at the back of the room, waiting to hand out a series of documents to the attendees. “You look kind of… dazed.”

  I flick a glance across to Harrison. He’s still watching me. “His eyes are like lasers.” He’s supposed to be paying attention to the presentation on the screen. I have a feeling he hasn’t looked at it once.

  Colette follows my gaze, then smirks. “His tongue is practically flopping on the floor.”

  I turn away and fuss with the pile of folders on the table. My face burns, and I suspect I’ve turned scarlet. “Will you stop? Harrison Grant would never be interested in me, and anyway, I don’t date, remember?” Colette has already tried to pair me off with half a dozen of her friends, to no avail, as, since the event I have affectionately termed Armageddon, I refuse to set foot out of my apartment in the evenings.

  She sticks out her tongue. “I’m determined to get you fixed up with someone, and if it can be one of Sebastian’s friends, that’d be great. We can double date!” She grins. Colette lives with one of the other directors of Hearktech. Apparently, Sebastian had never dated anyone at the office until she turned up, but they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Although she now works full time at the firm, they’re careful to make sure their relationship remains understated at work. But I’ve seen him come up behind her when he thinks nobody’s looking, and I love the way he nuzzles her neck, whispers in her ear, and makes her giggle and blush.

  The thought of a man like Harrison Grant doing that to me gives me tingles all over. The last thing I need is a panic attack, so I do what I’ve always done, and list culinary ingredients in my head, one for each letter of the alphabet. Allspice, basil, chicory, dill...

  “Why on earth are you reciting herbs?”

  I hadn’t realized I was doing it aloud. What is wrong with me? Why am I always such an idiot?

  “I’m not interested in Harrison,” I state, collecting up the folders as the speaker draws to a close. “And he would never be interested in me anyway.”

  “He looks interested. He looks very interested. He looks as if he’s thinking about covering you in melted chocolate and licking it all off.”

  “Colette!” I whisper furiously.

  “Well, he is. Don’t tell me he doesn’t make your mouth water. I’ve seen the way you watch him when you think nobody’s looking.”

  “Of course I think he’s hot—he’s practically an oil painting. If you look up ‘stud’ in the dictionary, it just has a photo of him. But that’s irrelevant. I’m not even going to talk about this. Men are so far off my radar, he’s not even a blip. That’s the end of the matter.”

  “Blah, blah,” Colette says. “You have a little bit of drool right there…” She touches the corner of her mouth.

  Ignoring her, I walk toward the conference table with the folders and start laying them in front of the guest
s. The last thing I need is a man in my life, and I’m not going to give him a second more of my thoughts.

  Chapter Two

  Harrison

  Gabriella Manners walks slowly along the left side of the table, placing folders in front of the Japanese investors.

  I hook one arm over the back of the chair and watch her as she nears. As always, she moves with effortless grace, like a ballet dancer or a yoga instructor, elegant and poised. She’s tall and slender, and she has loooong shapely legs that go all the way to the ground. It takes little effort to imagine what they’d look liked wrapped around my waist.

  She moves to Sebastian, who’s sitting on my right and currently replying to a question from one of the investors. She leans over to place the folder before him, and then she straightens and circles around his chair to me.

  Leaning across, she puts the folder on the table in front of me. It’s the closest I’ve been to her since she arrived at the firm. For the first time, I smell her perfume, and, as she bends, her white blouse gapes the tiniest bit, giving me a glimpse of pale skin and an enticing strip of cream lace.

  Everyone’s watching Sebastian, who’s giving a detailed reply to the investor’s question, and nobody’s looking at us. So, it’s only me who’s aware when Gabriella turns her head and catches me looking at her bra.

  She freezes, and I lift my gaze hurriedly to hers. Her eyes widen, and for a moment I have the horrific thought that she’s going to make a scene, either by slapping me or by standing up and yelling.

  I deserve it. Elen—the only female director here—has given all us guys a talk on how inappropriate it is to flirt with the staff, and that includes making sexual innuendo, giving wolf whistles, and staring at girls’ boobs. We were indignant that she felt she had to explain this, as we’re all modern men. We know how to do it so we don’t get caught. Usually. I must be off my game.

  Gabriella looks into my eyes. I have a split second to choose my reaction—do I raise an eyebrow and act as if it’s my right to look at her cleavage in the hope that she’s timid enough to be subdued by my glare? Or do I apologize?

  I opt for an apology, because I am sorry, and pull an eek face.

  To my relief, her lips curve up. She gives me a wry look, then straightens and moves on to Caleb, sitting on my left. After giving him his folder, she continues to make her way around the room.

  My gaze flicks over our guests, making sure nobody saw our exchange, and then it falls on Colette standing at the back. When she sees me looking at her, she winks. I roll my eyes. Trust her to have been a witness. She’s been trying to fix me up on a date for months, ever since I broke up with Sarah, my ex.

  I’ve studiously avoided her attempts so far. I have no interest in going steady with anyone. It’s not general knowledge at the firm, but I’m taking on a different role at the company starting in a few weeks’ time, and I’ll be travelling a lot more, taking the news of Hearktech’s technology to the rest of the world.

  I’m still up for sex, and told Colette as much. That would have earned me an exasperated glare from most girls, but Colette just grinned and said, “Fair enough.” Sebastian fell on his feet with that one.

  The afternoon session goes on for another fifteen minutes, and then we have a break before the last session of the day. I grab a mug of coffee and walk over to where Gabriella is standing behind the information counter, ready to help the investors if they have any queries.

  I stand beside her and sip my coffee. She straightens the folders on the counter, her shiny brown hair swinging forward to hide her face. I watch her tuck it behind her ear, revealing a touch of color on her cheek.

  “Sorry,” I tell her.

  “Sorry you did it, or sorry you got caught?” She smiles—she’s teasing me.

  I shrug. “Both, I guess.”

  She laughs. “At least you’re honest.”

  “Yeah, I’m not all bad.”

  She meets my eyes briefly, then looks away.

  My gaze lingers on the curve of her neck, the pale skin beneath her ear. I want to touch my lips there, and see if it’s as soft as I imagine it to be.

  “You’re doing it again,” she scolds.

  “Doing what?”

  “Ogling.”

  “Might be. You going to sue me for sexual harassment?”

  “Probably not,” she admits. “You might want to be a bit more surreptitious about it, though.”

  “Normally I am. Have you noticed me ogling you before?”

  Her expression turns disbelieving. “Before? You weren’t even aware I existed until this morning.”

  “Gabriella Manners. As if you could have walked into this building and not set my world alight.”

  “Ha!” She gives me a skeptical glare.

  “I happened to be in reception the day you started work,” I tell her. “You came into the foyer—you were wearing a gray rain jacket with the hood up.” I remember it clearly. I’d glanced at her and was just about to look away when she’d pushed the hood back, unzipped the jacket, and slid it off to reveal a slim, shapely body in a stylish stone-colored pants suit and sexy black high heels. She has long straight hair the color of chocolate, so shiny that I just know it must feel like silk to touch.

  She’s staring at me now. “I was wearing a gray rain jacket.”

  “As I said, I was there. You walked straight past me. It was you who didn’t notice me.” I have to admit, it rankles a bit that she’s managed to studiously ignore me since she’s started here.

  “Oh, I noticed you,” she says.

  She looks up into my eyes, and holds the gaze for a long, long time.

  “Sorry to hear you broke up with your boyfriend,” I tell her when I feel I ought to say something. I know there’s not an ounce of sorrow in my voice.

  She blinks. “How did you know about that?”

  “Colette only revealed it yesterday. Otherwise, I’d have asked you out three months ago.”

  She blushes then, her skin turning a delightful shade of pink. I laugh, which only makes it turn to fuchsia.

  “Mr. Grant…” she begins.

  “Jesus, do I look like my father? I hope not.”

  “Harrison, then…”

  “Harry.”

  “Well, um, it’s very nice of you to say that, but I should tell you now that I’m not on the market, so to speak.”

  “Oh?”

  She shakes her head and leans on the counter. “Not after… well, anyway. I’m not actually going to be here much longer. I’m only here to cover someone on maternity leave. Next month, I’m going travelling.”

  I sigh and lean next to her. Our arms are almost, but not quite, touching. I feel genuinely disappointed, but then I remind myself that I’m not on the market, either.

  “Fair enough,” I say. “Me neither. I’m going to be travelling too. Spreading the Hearktech word, so I won’t be around as much.” I smile at her. “Shame, eh? Kind of happened at the wrong time.”

  “Yeah.” She looks wistful. Her eyes are a strange blue, almost violet, quite hypnotic. I get a strong wave of regret that we’ve missed the boat. She’s lovely, and I would like to have gotten to know her better.

  “Not after what?” I ask her.

  “Pardon?”

  “You said you’re not on the market, not after…”

  She looks at her fingernails. “Ex troubles,” she admits.

  “Ha. I know all about those. What did the idiot do, cheat on you?” I meant it as a joke, because surely no man would ever be tempted to be unfaithful to the brown-haired beauty by my side. But instantly, I can tell I’ve hit the nail on its tender head. I gape at her. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What a fucking idiot.” I’m horrified, and angry at my gender. “What an asshole.”

  She rubs her nose and laughs. “Mm. A total one.” She bites her lip. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  “Of course not.” That implies she’s confided in me. I’m surprised and touched. “I’m
really sorry to hear that.”

  She gives me a curious look. “You surprise me.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t think you’d be the type of guy who’d be outraged at cheating.”

  That makes me stiffen, and I glare at her, indignant. “You think I’d cheat on a woman?”

  She surveys me, obviously realizing she’s hurt my feelings. “Sorry. You look like the sort of man who has a different girl every week, that’s all.”

  “Doesn’t mean I have more than one. Unless, you know, it’s three in a bed.” Her eyebrows rise, and I add hastily, “I’m kidding. That one’s purely fantasy.” I’m smiling, but her accusation still rankles.

  She chews her bottom lip. “I am sorry, it was an unfair accusation. I shouldn’t tar every guy with the same manky brush as my ex.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not exactly an angel, I admit.”

  “The best men aren’t.”

  I grin. “I don’t want to go to heaven anyway. It sounds so dull.”

  “So where are you going?”

  “Valhalla.”

  She laughs. “Really?’

  “Yeah. I’m going to spend eternity drinking beer out of horns and composing sagas about all the wonderful adventures I’ve had.”

  Now her eyes hold a glimmer of something I can’t quite fathom—admiration? Possibly even something hotter than that. “I can see you as a Viking.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Want to hear a Viking joke?”

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  “A famous Viking explorer came home from a voyage only to find his name missing from the town register. He went to the man who composed the list, who apologized and said, ‘Sorry, I must have taken Leif off my census.’”

  She giggles. “That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah. Made you smile, though.”

  She presses her lips together and looks at the counter. She mumbles something, not sure what—it sounded like ‘horseradish,’ but that can’t be right.

  I study her profile—her straight nose, full pink lips, her long dark eyelashes hiding those violet eyes. She’s gorgeous, and suddenly I don’t care that Elen’s office rules state no banging the secretaries. I want this girl, and even though a long-term relationship is out of the question, neither of us wants that anyway. But it’s possible she’s interested in something else.