by Chloe Morgan
I wasn’t the kind of woman a man like Ethan Sharpe wanted.
At least, not in a relational aspect.
I fell asleep with his scent on my skin. I woke up with it, too. I took a shower before meeting Ellie for our morning run. There was no way in hell I’d meet up with her smelling like my new boss. I met her at the entrance to Central Park, and we took off. Our first mile was always besieged with quiet, and I was glad for it.
Because my mind apparently wanted to relive last night.
“Is it something with your new job?” Ellie asked.
We slowed to a jog to catch our breath.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re distracted. Unfocused. You almost ran into a bench a block back. What’s got your attention?”
“I guess you could say it’s my job.”
“You guess?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s kind of my job.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I mean, I love everything about it. It’s better in every way I could have imagined. It’s just… a lot.”
“A lot how?”
“My boss.”
“What about—?”
I shot Ellie a look and her jaw dropped open. We took off into a sprint down the length of the pond like we always did. I gasped for air. I let the cold penetrate my lungs. I used it to rip my mind away from the swell of Ethan’s chest and the sweetness of his lips.
“You hooked up with your boss,” Ellie panted.
I leaned over, putting my hands on my knees.
“I can’t believe I hooked up with my boss,” I whispered.
“Spill. Now. When? Where? How long?”
“The session? Or him?” I asked, grinning.
“All of it,” she said, giggling.
I spilled all of the details. The tension between us. How he got that primal look in his eye. How he spared no expense in taking me against my desk. It allowed me to openly relive every moment. How his manhood felt inside me. How hard I came for him. How I was still trembling with want by the time I got back to my apartment.
“So, you’re going to do it again, right?” Ellie asked.
I shrugged. “He’s my boss. I mean, how many times can I cross that line before my job is compromised.”
“At least one other time.”
I giggled. “You’re a mess.”
“I’m serious, though. Look, if the sex was that good, then why not? And with that goofy smile you’ve got on your face, I’d say there’s something else worth exploring.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not traveling down that road with my boss, Ellie.”
“Oh, come on. I haven’t seen you this giggly about a man since, well, ever,” she said.
“It was good sex. That’s all,” I said.
“Give me one reason why you shouldn't pursue this.”
“For one, he’s a billionaire who’s entirely focused on his job.”
“And you could be the distraction he needs,” she said, grinning.
“He’s also a workaholic. He comes in before and leaves after his employees.”
“Because he gives a shit about who works for him. Which means he’d give a shit about who he dates.”
“You’re too much of an optimist,” I said.
“And you deserve to be happy,” she said.
The two of us finished up our run, and I went back to my apartment to clean up. And though I tried to keep myself from doing it, I ended up googling my boss. Ellie’s words hung heavily in my mind. I did deserve to be happy. I did deserve a man who enjoyed me for my independence and didn’t try to compromise it. But as I sifted through pictures of Ethan Sharpe with an ever-changing woman on his arm, my hope deflated quickly.
I was being foolish. This man obviously had no passion to settle down.
I pushed away from my laptop and finished getting ready for my day. It was a onetime hookup and nothing else. And I was fine with that. It only happened because we’d spent an entire week cooped up with one another anyway. The stress was bound to get to us both. I needed to accept that and move on.
“Fucking Ellie,” I whispered.
Chapter 7
Ethan
I didn’t attend every pitch meeting that happened with my teams, but I wouldn’t miss this one for the world. I sat in the conference room along with two brand managers, both women in their fifties. All of us, along with myself, were ready and waiting to listen to the pitch. The team was lined up at the front of the room with us standing at the back. And sitting around the glass table was the lemonade company I was ready to snag.
I’d used my usual charm to chat them up, making them feel at home. Part of a family. Especially since the entire pitch centered around feeling part of something greater. I shook their hands and sat with them, acting as if I wasn’t the CEO of a company at all. Merely a man who wanted to get to know them. Understand them. Appreciate them for what they brought to our company.
Not what we could bring to theirs.
I looked at my watch. Ten minutes before the pitch was supposed to begin. Everything was in place and ready to go, except that Sarah hadn’t arrived yet. I wasn’t panicking but given the fact that she was early to everything, it was odd that she hadn’t arrived yet. Her team didn’t seem worried, so I tried not to worry. I simply kept the company engaged and the conversation flowing. I asked them about their families. Their children. How they came up with the passion to start their lemonade company in the first place.
Despite what people thought about me, I really did find that stuff intriguing. Those stories always reminded me of when I first decided to build my own company.
Even men like myself enjoyed moments of nostalgia.
The lights of the room went out, and the projector in front of us turned on. It stopped the conversation I was having in its tracks. I slowly stood up, watching the old-timey reel of random children playing and mothers running after their young play out on the screen. I turned around and found Sarah walking into the room. Playing this black-and-white film to buy herself some time. I grinned as she made her way to the front of the room, fading myself into the background so I could watch.
And when she took the stage, she was dynamite.
I’d spent the whole fucking weekend distracted with thoughts of her. Our hookup in her office was one of the hottest things I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Reminiscing over it. I’d masturbated I didn’t know how many times that weekend to the thought of it. Her curves. Her thick hair. Her dazzling eyes. Her wanton sounds.
Every thought I had of Sarah sent flames rocketing through my bones.
The lights came up in the conference room, and Sarah stood there, smiling. She silently handed out packets to the “lemonade ladies,” since it was a company run solely by the women of the families that had gone in on this venture. It was one of the reasons I was so drawn to them. There weren’t enough powerful women in the business industry. I knew Maelstrom would attempt to downplay that.
I wanted to shine a fucking spotlight on it.
“In your packets you will find the proofs we decided against,” Sarah said.
Wait, what?
“I wanted to hand them to you to show where our thought process took us. Where our minds went as we got to know you, The Lemonade Ladies,” she said.
The girls giggled at the table as the lights went down again. Sarah pressed a button on her remote and a presentation ran across the screen. The first slide was a picture of their lemonade, wrapped in the pastel yellow and blue logo her team had come up with. Then, she launched into a story.
One that had me captivated.
“There once was a little boy who lived in a house. A modest, two-story house, with a mother who never could choose between working or staying at home. The father always supported her. The son always encouraged her. But his heart really wanted his mother to stay home,” she said.
Her eyes filled with deligh
t as she turned toward us all.
“The little boy had an idea. If he could help his father pay the bills, Mom would stay home. They could cuddle all day and play all afternoon. They could set up his Christmas toys together and decorate the house just like he wanted. He could help her in the grocery store. Maybe buy her a flower. The little boy wanted this so much that he came up with an idea.”
Then, she pressed the button on her remote.
The slide changed over and there was a twenty-five-cent lemonade stand. There was a fluffy-headed boy sitting there, with pitchers of pale yellow liquid and plastic cups. A tub of ice. A small chair. And a massive smile on his face. The tagline read “Remember the taste of your first lemonade stand?”
It even gave me chills.
“Every little child’s life is defined by two moments. The moment they realize they can help, and the moment they realize how they can help. Lemonade stands are an American rite of passage. A child’s first project. It’s a child’s first small glimpse into how the world really works, and the difference that child can make within it. It’s not just nostalgia. It’s about learning. Thriving. Creating. Just like you did with your company.”
The more she talked, the more they ate it up. The ladies in yellow ate out of the palm of Sarah’s hand, and when the presentation was done they were already asking details about the contract. If they were to choose us, what could they expect? How much control would they have? What could we offer?
I was more than happy to step in and fill them in on those details.
“I just… I loved every part of it,” the woman said.
Sarah’s talent was remarkable. She was creative. Driven. Intelligent. And as I sat there talking over the details of the contract, we’d propose to them, my mind kept wandering back to her. I wanted to be close to her. To celebrate a win, I knew we had snagged. She was so beautiful, my body ached over it. Her presentation was so moving, the women were wiping tears from their eyes at the end of it.
“We don’t want to jump the gun too soon, because we do have other firms to see. But we can tell you that your pitch it the clear frontrunner right now,” one of the women said.
“I’ll be waiting for your call. And I can assure you that Sarah, the one who gave the presentation, will see you through every step of this process,” I said.
And after speaking with them a little longer, Philip showed them out of the conference room.
“You nailed it,” I said.
I patted Sarah on the back as she looked up at me, smiling.
“My team was indispensable with this project. But yes. I think we nailed it,” she said.
Beautiful, intelligent, and modest. A deadly combination.
“Well, yes. But take the compliment,” I said, grinning.
“I rock. I know it. You don’t have to tell me.”
I looked down at her as she laughed, watching her eyes fill with delight. I had the sudden urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her. So much so that it left me breathless. I looked up and saw we were alone in the room and seriously considered it. I considered wrapping her up in my arms and kissing her until she could hardly breathe.
Then, Philip came around the corner.
“The team’s in your office waiting for a briefing, Sarah,” he said.
“Thank you. I appreciate it,” she said.
Yeah, well. I don’t.
“If you’ll excuse me, Ethan. I need to let everyone know exactly how good this went,” she said.
“Of course. Enjoy your moment,” I said.
I watched her walk away. The sway of her hips. The way her shoulders rolled back in confidence. I kept reminding myself that she was an employee, not my personal sex goddess. Fuck, how I wished she could be both. A shark in my conference room by day and a powerhouse between my sheets at night.
What a perfect woman that would be.
Chapter 8
Sarah
My stomach was in knots as I waited for word on the pitch. Things had slowed down drastically at the office since Ethan gave my team some time to recuperate after such a furious pitch. And I was thankful for it, because throwing that together in less than a week had almost driven me mad. As I flipped through the folder of projects Philip delivered to me from Ethan, I marked the few I had my eye on, ones I already had ideas spinning for. The issue was that I didn’t want to make a decision on any of them until I heard about the lemonade pitch.
Until I heard whether or not we had gotten the account.
The presentation had been simple. Much simpler than the flashy bullshit I’d done for Maelstrom. And it really took the sappy route. I knew that much. But things like that always tugged at a woman’s heartstrings, and no mother could resist something that she thought benefitted her children. I wondered if I had preyed on that instinct too much. I wondered if I had taken advantage of the fact that they were working women with families.
Did they really want something sleek and new? Modern and toned down? Those were the types of things I’d done for Miller at Maelstrom. Those were the kinds of things he promoted. I thought I’d read the company right. Understood the women and what they wanted for their product. But had I made a mistake somehow? Would I end up disappointing Ethan?
I really hoped not. Because that was one thing I certainly didn’t want to do.
A knock came at my office door, and I flipped the folder closed. I took my legs off my desk and smoothed my hands down my blouse. My heart lunged into my throat. I cracked my neck to try and give my tense body some sort of relief.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door swung open and Ethan stood there. His face was stone-cold. Stoic. His green eyes locked onto me as he walked into the room. He closed the door silently behind him as fear poured through my body. Oh, no. That look in his eye wasn’t good.
“The CEO of the lemonade company called,” he said.
The tone of his voice wasn’t good, either.
“What did she say?” I asked.
Ethan strode across my office slowly, his hands in his pockets. His eyes held him as he came up to my desk and sat in the chair directly in front of it. He crossed his leg over his knee. He slipped his hands out and clasped them together in his lap. I wanted to scream at him to tell me. I wanted to get the disappointment over with.
Had he come here to fire me?
“She had some news for me. News I figured you’d want to know,” he said.
My heart physically stopped in my chest as a wide smile broke out across Ethan’s face.
“We got the account,” he said.
“Woo hoo hoo hoo!”
I jumped out of my seat. I couldn’t help myself. Ethan’s eyes widened at my rejoicing, and I didn’t give a shit what he thought. I came around my desk, skipping and clapping my hands. Holy hell, my team and I had nailed the account. I bubbled with excitement. Ethan smiled up at me as he stood from the chair. Before I caught myself, I threw my arms around his neck, holding him tightly to me as I giggled with happiness.
The hug lasted a little longer than was appropriate. Then, I felt his hands traveling down.
Then, I realized I was hugging my damn boss.
“Sorry,” I said as I stepped away.
Ethan tucked his hands back into his pockets.
“No apologies necessary. You’re excited. You should be. You single-handedly saved my last quarter,” he said.
“My team and I did. Not just me,” I said.
“Modest.”
“It’s important my team be recognized as well.”
“And they will be. I just want you to understand that the team wouldn’t exist without you,” he said.
His eyes held mine as I drew in a deep breath.
“Well, I better go tell my team the good news,” I said.
“There will be a bonus for all of you and your good work,” Ethan said, nodding.
I froze. Memories slammed against my mind. The five-dollar sandwiches we were afforded by Miller for winning accounts. I sw
allowed hard. I didn’t want to be like Miller. I didn’t want there to be any ounce of impropriety monetarily on my part with regard to my team.
“How will that bonus be divvied out?” I asked.
“As usual. You’ll get the money, and then you’ll be responsible for dispensing how you see fit,” Ethan said.
I shook my head. “I won’t accept any bonus beyond my equal share.”
“I never expected you to do anything less with it.”
“So, work it out on your end to where that’s all I see. When that money drops into their banks, I want them to see that it comes from the company. Not from me,” I said.
Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Any reason for that?”
No use in lying.
“Just a practice I don’t want to bring over from Maelstrom. That’s all,” I said.
“Well, you can do whatever you want with your bonus. But I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’d be responsible for distributing it. All I meant was that everyone on the team would be receiving their own. Yours included. I don’t trust anyone with money that isn’t theirs. For personal and professional reasons,” Ethan said.
“Good,” I said.
I liked the fact that Ethan wasn’t like Miller. The more I got to know him, the more I saw that they were almost complete opposites. He held my gaze longer than I expected, and I felt myself blushing underneath his gaze. My eyes fell from his, and I cleared my throat. I could have sworn I heard him chuckle to himself as I drew in a deep breath.
Jumping ship was the best decision I had ever made with my career.
