The Boss's Orders: Alpha Male Billionaire Office Romance

by Cat Carmine

  He doesn’t even bother to shake my hand, just scurries out of the room. Probably going to rush off to HR to tell them to wipe my name from their records.

  I push my hair back out of my face and realize that hot salty tears are pouring down my face. I wonder when those started? No wonder he was so terrified of me.

  I start to laugh at the absurdity of this entire situation. I’ve become a complete trainwreck. Best of all, every worry I had about what might happen if I started sleeping with the boss is coming true. I’m unemployed with a bad resume and no references and slowly losing my mind. It won’t be long until I’m day-drinking at Ludo’s Cafe with Kelly in the middle of the afternoon.

  As I head out of the office I stop by the receptionist’s desk.

  “Could you give a message to Sandy?” I ask her sweetly. “Could you please tell him my lawyer will be in touch?”

  Her eyes widen. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but it makes me feel a little better, and right now I’ll take what I can get.

  As soon as I get home, I bust open a tub of Ben and Jerry’s.

  “Is there a faster way to get this into my system?” I ask April, holding up my spoon. “Do you think I could consume it intravenously somehow?”

  She smiles sympathetically. “I take it the interview didn’t go well?”

  “You take it correctly.”

  “How bad?”

  “I told him I’d been sleeping with my boss but that it was okay because I was in love with him. Oh, and then I cried.”

  She claps a hand over her mouth and tries to make sympathetic noises, but I can tell she’s fighting off the urge to laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” I tell her. “Okay, it’s a little bit funny. But I think it’s safe to say I didn’t get the job.”

  Just then my phone rings. April and I both look at each other. Could it be? Did I somehow manage to win Sandy over enough that he was willing to overlook my outburst?

  “Hello?” I try to make my voice sound as professional as possible.

  “Hello Claire, it’s Tom Bristal calling. From Godrich and Associates.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Shit. “I’m sorry, that was my roommate. Hi Tom.”

  “I’m calling to set up your exit interview.”

  “My what?”

  “Your exit interview. It’s part of our policy here at Godrich and Associates. Part of how we create a solid working culture is by conducting exit interviews whenever employees leave.”

  I don’t tell him what I think about his solid working culture. “I’m a bit busy these days, Tom. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to make it.” I shove another spoonful of ice cream in my mouth.

  His voice softens. “Look Claire, I know how things unfolded. I’ll tell you what — you come in and do the interview, and you can use me as a reference. Mr. Godrich never has to know.”

  Relief fills my chest. Having a decent reference would go a long way towards helping me find a new job. Assuming I could make it through my next interview without turning it into an episode of True Confessions. Assuming I ever got a next interview.

  I nod into the phone. “Okay. I guess I can do it. When do you want me to come by?”

  I go by Godrich and Associates the next day. The entire way over there, my heart is in my throat. What if I run into him? What if he has a new secretary? What if I run into her? What if everyone in the office knows what happened and they all stop and whisper as I walk down the halls?

  Okay, actually, that last one is pretty likely. I was well acquainted with how office gossip worked.

  I take a deep breath outside of the massive glass doors that lead to the building’s lobby. This is it. I just have to put on a brave face for half an hour. I’ve got a fresh pint of ice cream waiting for me at home when it’s all over.

  I screw up my courage and push open the doors.

  One elevator ride later and I’m in front of that old reception desk, the one I walked past multiple times a day. It’s amazing how fast everything comes rushing back to me.

  I don’t recognize the receptionist, which is a small mercy. I tell her I’m here to see Tom and she cooly tells me to take a seat, the same way she would if I were any other stranger off the street. I want to lean over and kiss her.

  Then again, kissing people at the office is what got me into this mess, so maybe I won’t.

  Instead I sit down and wait for Tom. I don’t have to wait long though, as he appears from around the corner just a few seconds later.

  He comes over and takes both my hands in his. “How are you holding up?” The concern in his voice almost breaks me.

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  He leads me down the hallway. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but we actually have to stop by your old office.”

  My heart stops and I nearly crash into him.

  “I know, but it’ll be fine. He’s not around. We just have a box of your stuff there that you’ll have to retrieve.”

  I take a deep breath. “Okay. Fine.”

  We walk around the corner and then there it is. The door way to the office I shared with William.

  Tom puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about this.” He has his hand on the doorknob.

  “Sorry about what?”

  “He made me bring you down here. He wanted to see you and he didn’t think you’d come if you knew he was the one asking.”

  The door swings open and there he is. Sitting right behind my desk, exactly where he was the last time I saw him.

  William.

  23

  William

  I wake up with my palms already sweaty.

  This is the day.

  My dick is aching at the thought of seeing her sweet face and gorgeous body again, so first thing I do is take care of a little business so I’m not too distracted later. Then I hop in the shower.

  When I’m done I stride naked over to my suit closet.

  And I stand there.

  And I stare at the suits.

  None of them seem right.

  I have nothing to wear.

  I smack myself upside the head as I stand there dripping. Claire has really gotten in to my head. I’m starting to think like a woman.

  I pull a sharp dark grey Hugo Boss suit off the hanger. Find a white shirt. A dark blue tie.

  I get dressed. I avoid looking at the bed because all I can think about when I look at it is the night that Claire spent here. And if I let my mind go too far down that road I’m going to have to jerk off again and I can’t afford to be late today.

  I sit at the island in the kitchen. I eat a bowl of Cheerios — hey, some things don’t change just because you have money.

  I stare at the clock.

  At six o’clock, I say fuck it. I text my driver and have him meet me at the front of the building.

  “Big day, sir?” he asks, as he opens the door of the SUV for me.

  “The biggest, Cal.”

  At work, I wait until a little after seven, at which point I figure any self-respecting lawyer should be already started work.

  James answers on the first ring. I knew there was a reason I liked him.

  “Will, how are you?”

  “Good, good. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. Those people I let go, the ones from Prescott & Bailey? I want to triple the amount of severance I gave them.”

  James doesn’t say anything for a minute. “Why? I told you that suit’s dead in the water.”

  I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “It’s not about the suit. It’s about not being a dick.”

  James chuckles. “Fair enough.”

  “I already talked to accounting, they’re going to handle the financials. But I need the letter to be clear that this isn’t about buying anyone’s silence. This is severance and they do not owe me or this company anything.”

  James pauses. “You sure, Will? You might be opening doors to
something you don’t want.”

  “We’ll deal with that if it happens. I want to do the right thing by these people.”

  I can hear James making notes on the other end of the line. “You got it, buddy. We’ll get it done.”

  “Thanks James.”

  Next I call Tom. “Everything set?”

  “All set. She’ll be here at eleven.”

  “Perfect. She doesn’t suspect anything?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m very discreet, you know.”

  “I know you are, Tom. It’s my favorite quality in an HR director.”

  By this time, my new secretary has arrived.

  “Hey, Kenny.”

  “Morning boss.”

  As much as I thought I’d despise having a male secretary, it turns out it’s not all that bad. He’s good at his job and he’s managed to charm all the other secretaries in the office, so he gets things done a lot more easily than any of my other secretaries have. I’m starting to realize that my personal relationships with them probably made their lives here at work rather difficult at times.

  Kenny and I spend the rest of the morning preparing for Claire’s arrival.

  By the time eleven o’clock is nearing, I’m on pins and needles.

  I’m about to put it all out there.

  I never do that. I’ve never done that.

  And I’m fucking terrified to do that.

  I’m terrified that Claire is going to turn around and walk out as soon as she realizes what’s going on.

  Or worse, that she’ll stay and hear me out and then she’ll turn and walk out.

  It’s not a good feeling, this fear.

  But for the first time in my life, I want to feel it. I want to put it all out there for a woman.

  Claire was right. The things she did with me required trust but I was blind to what she was doing for me. What she was giving to me.

  Every time she let me bend her over that desk, tie up her wrists, she was giving a piece of herself to me. If I could have just read the signs I would have realized that she was telling me I could have all of her. That I could have everything.

  I was such a fucking idiot.

  What I hoped to do today was prove to her that none of what she had given me had been in vain. That I had taken each of those pieces and held on to them.

  And that I would keep holding on to them for as long as she’d let me.

  Yup, it was official. Claire Hearst had William Godrich whipped.

  Kenny and I get everything set up just in time. At a couple minutes past eleven, Tom calls me.

  “She’s here. I’m going to reception to grab her. You ready or do you need me to stall her for a bit?”

  “No, I’m good. Bring her in.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  When I get off the phone, Kenny gives me a nod, then makes himself scarce.

  Now it’s just me. Waiting for her.

  I go and sit in Kenny’s chair, the one that used to be Claire’s. I tense when I hear a commotion out in the hallway, and then the door swings open, and there she is.

  I watch her face twist through a hundred different emotions — shock, anger, sadness, and yes, I think I see happiness in there. Even if just for a fraction of second. It gives me hope.

  I stand up from behind the desk and cross the room towards her. Tom has already discreetly shown himself out. It’s just Claire and I here now. I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and kiss her — actually, I wouldn’t stop at kissing.

  “Hello Claire.”

  “William.” Her voice is cold. “I was told to come by and pick up some of my things.”

  I try to smile, though I’m nervous as fuck right now. Suddenly this whole idea seems insanely stupid.

  “I do have a few of your things, yes.”

  She wrinkles her brow. “Can I just have them, then, so I can leave?”

  “Okay. First, there’s this.” I hand her the moccaccino that’s sitting on the desk. “To make up for the last one I ruined.”

  Her eyes flit to the spot on the carpet where I’d thrown our coffees, but the carpet’s already been replaced.

  “Oh, and there’s also this.” I nudge over the little bakery bag that contains two giant ginger cookies. “Your favorite, right?”

  She peeks inside the bag and cracks a small smile. “Yes. I do like them,” she says curtly.

  “I know. I think you might have a bit of a sugar problem.” I smile at her, trying to get her to warm up even a little, but she’s standing as stiff and frozen as ever.

  “Um, okay,” I say nervously. “There’s also this.” I lift a giant vase of yellow tulips up from behind the desk. The thing weighs a sweet ton. Kenny and I went out and bought every fucking yellow tulip within a one mile radius.

  Claire cracks another smile.

  “I can’t see yellow tulips without thinking of you now,” I tell her. “I look for them everywhere.”

  She’s staring at me intently now, as if she’s trying to figure out what to make of all of this. I take that as a good sign and press on.

  The next thing I pull out is a bottle of expensive champagne. “Because you said you’d never had the real stuff before,” I remind her.

  Then I pull a pad of neon green post-it notes out of my jacket pocket. “Because I know you don’t like writing on any other color.”

  She still hasn’t said anything but she’s moved closer to the desk and is studying the items I’ve laid out for her. There’s a ghost of a smile on her lips.

  I take a deep breath then pull out two small flat white boxes and hand them to her.

  She takes them reluctantly, as if they might bite her.

  “What are these?”

  “You’ll have to open them. Top one first.”

  She sets the second box down on the desk and starts slowly undoing the black ribbon on the first one. She opens it up and pulls out a pair of sexy pair of black lace panties.

  She holds them up by one finger and looks at me questioningly.

  “For all the times I wouldn’t let you wear panties to the office. I want you to be able to choose to wear underwear whenever you want.”

  This time she cracks a real smile. She sets the panties down on the desk and then picks up the second box, carefully undoing the ribbon.

  I hold my breath as she unfolds the tissue paper.

  Her laughter cuts through the office, and through all of my tension. For the first time in days, I feel my shoulders unslump.

  She pulls the second pair of panties out of the box — these ones the biggest, whitest granny panties I could find.

  She looks questioningly at me.

  “Because I don’t care what kind of panties you wear,” I tell her. “Now I admit, I hope it won’t always be these ones, but if that’s what you want, I’ll take it.”

  She’s still smiling at me but she hasn’t said anything yet. I take a deep breath.

  “Claire, I fucked up. I know now that you had nothing to do with the lawsuit, but I should have taken your word for it. I should have trusted you.”

  “Yeah, you should have,” she says finally. “When have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?”

  “Not you.” I sit down and motion for her to do the same. She hesitates for a second and then sits down. It’s then that I tell her about Lila and the ones who came before them, the ones who used my position to get what they wanted from me and then move on.

  Claire listens in silence until I’m done talking.

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

  I look down at the shiny surface of the desk, the one that used to be hers. “I thought it made me seem weak. I was embarrassed to have gotten played. And that’s why I flipped out this time. Because getting played by you — or at least thinking I had — felt ten times worse.”

  “I understand,” she says. “I think.”

  “Claire,” I take a deep breath. “I want you to come back. You don’t have to work as my secretar
y — in fact, I have a very good new guy in here, I think you’d like him. But I want you to come back to Godrich and Associates. Wherever you want to be, we can make it happen.”

  Claire looks at me with this slow sad smile.

  She shakes her head.

  “I’m sorry, William. My answer is no.”

  The floor falls out from beneath me and I plummet down a hundred stories.

  24

  Claire

  I think I’ve gone through every emotion under the sun in the last half hour. Stress at being back here at Godrich and Associates. Shock and irritation at Tom for tricking me. More shock and irritation at William for tricking me.

  But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t elation too, and huge amounts of relief. I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed him until I saw him sitting there behind the desk, his chiselled jaw set, those beautiful hands folded tightly on the desk.

  And that was before he’d even started with all the little gifts. All the little things I didn’t even realize he was picking up on — the yellow tulips, the green post-it notes. All this time, when I thought I was just the secretary he was banging, he was actually noticing me, noticing the little things that make me tick.

  I feel seen.

  And now, telling him no, watching his face fall, I feel nothing but remorse.

  In many ways, this has been the best job I’d ever had. And it was one that came with an intensity I would never be able to repeat — that had become abundantly clear during my job search these past couple of weeks.

  But what I had realized is that I didn’t want that intensity at work. My love life and my work life had to be two separate things.

  “William, I can’t work for you.”

  Seeing the way his face twists at my answer almost undoes my resolve. I realize now how deep his feelings for me run.

  Whatever we have, it’s something real. It’s not perfect. It’s not a fairytale. But maybe it has the possibility of being even better than that.

  I take a deep breath.

  “I want to give us the best chance possible. And that means I can’t work for you. Not anywhere in this company. I have to make my own career. I’m not exactly sure what that looks like yet, but part of my path has to be figuring that out.”