Beauty and the BOSS (Billionaire's Obsession Book 1)

by R. S. Elliot

  “What’s happened to Olivia?”

  “Um.” My voice sounded so thin in my ears, tiny as a mouse. “She was in the middle of something. Didn’t want you to miss your coffee.”

  “Send her in after you. Thank you, Emily.”

  I took this as my cue to leave and began immediately backing away. It took me a moment to register that he had said my name, and the sound burned in my ears. Had I told him my name in the elevator? No way. How had he learned it? Had he gone through all of his intern’s files with a fine-tooth comb and taken the time to learn all of our names? That seemed very unlike the Luke Thorpe of media write-ups, or the one I had briefly encountered at this job. I felt confused and disoriented like I had taken one too many drinks at a New Year’s Eve party, and suddenly wanted to lay my head down on something and close my eyes. I settled for scurrying out of the room and closing the door as quietly as possible behind me.

  “What did you do?” Olivia hissed at me from her desk.

  “I’m sorry!”

  “God Emily, he hates that, you can’t just-—”

  “I know, I know,” I moaned, cringing inside and out. “I’m so sorry. But he wants to see you.”

  “Now?”

  “I think so.”

  Olivia swore again, louder this time, and stood up. She ran her fingers through her hair once before approaching his door and made a show of knocking three times. The door was opened moments later, but not by Luke. Instead, the woman in the blue dress breezed quickly past Olivia, ushering her little boy forward. Her mouth was tight, and her face was red, as though she was trying to keep from crying or screaming. I couldn’t meet her eyes as she moved past my desk in a gust of soft floral perfume, and it was almost a full minute later when I could pull together the courage to look back over to Luke’s office. Olivia was still standing outside, looking pale. She waited for his inviting voice before pressing her way inside and shot me a death glare as she disappeared into his office.

  I wished I had a nice hole to crawl into.

  I sank down at my desk feeling numb and lightheaded, wishing with all of my might that there was some way to go back and undo the last ten minutes. I tried to turn back to my email and get some work done, but the tiny letters on the screen swam together until I felt nauseous. I wanted to put my head down on the desk and close my eyes, or lock myself in a bathroom stall and cry, but I was terrified that Olivia would come back outside and find me slacking off. I didn’t see a way through this that didn’t end with Olivia shouting my ear off, or worse, with me carrying the few personal possessions on my desk in a cardboard box down to the subway.

  “I need this job,” I muttered into the fingers that were pressed against my mouth. “God, please don’t let me lose this job...”

  A few agonizing moments later, Luke’s door swung open, and I tried not to jump in my chair when Olivia strode stiffly over to me. Her brows were pulled tight in an expression I couldn’t place, and I realized with some shock as she drew closer that it was concern. There was still anger there, and weary nerves from a work week she would be feeling all weekend, but there was genuine worry there as well.

  “Olivia,” I began in a small voice.

  She shook her head, wringing her hands, and my voice dried up in my throat.

  “He wants to see you.”

  “What?”

  “Luke.... Mr. Thorpe wants to speak with you privately.”

  I blinked at her, my knuckles white where they gripped the edge of my desk. Olivia lowered her voice, sounding a little threatening.

  “Now, Emily.”

  I scrambled to my feet, reaching for my purse and then shaking my head at myself when I realized I wouldn’t need it. I circled my cubicle tightly, smoothing my hair and desperately swiping on another coat of tinted lip balm as though it would save me from the worst of Thorpe’s chastisement. I was sure my career was over. There was no way I was getting out of this in one piece.

  I fell into step behind Olivia as she led me towards Luke’s office, my face a white as a sheet.

  “What did you say to him?” She asked.

  “Nothing! I just served the coffee like he asked. I tried to apologize but—”

  “He was asking all these questions about you. Where you go to school, how long you’ve worked here, things like that. I don’t know what you did in there, but he’s never taken an interest in any of the interns after they’re hired. For God’s sake, be on your best behavior. I’ve got no idea what he wants with you.”

  I fell silent for the rest of the walk, fighting off the dizziness swirling around in my skull. Olivia’s bafflement was worse than anger. The anger I could handle; it would make sense under the circumstances. But the fact that she had no idea what our boss was thinking or what he wanted with me did not seem to bode well.

  Olivia lingered by the door for a moment, listening. Then she knocked gravely and nodded to me once Luke’s muted voice ordered me in.

  Stepping into the office the first time had been a nerve-tingling experience, this time, it was heart-pounding. The room seemed much larger without the woman and child in it, but somehow Luke seemed even closer to me as he stood leaning against his desk facing me, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes boring a hole into my skull.

  “Mr. Thorpe—” I began, my voice threatening to break. I thought I might cry. Or worse, blurt out the messiest, most over the top apology that came into my mind.

  “Emily,” He said before I had the chance to do either. His voice made my name sound weighted and valuable, like a diamond necklace worth more money than I could imagine. Or at least I thought it did; maybe the stress had fried my brain. “Come in here, please.”

  I did as I was told, closing the door on Olivia and the outside world and the last hope of escape I had. Luke beckoned me over to him with a sort of nod, and I took a few wary steps closer, doing my best to hold my shoulders back and my chin up. I was a professional. Even if my behavior a few minutes ago didn’t show it. It was the least I could do to act like one now.

  For a long moment, a heavy silence fell between us. I could hear nothing but the too-loud sound of my breath scraping through my lungs and the distant clicking of an analog clock. Luke was watching me, taking me in with the same eyes that had appraised me in the elevator. He was looking at me the way he might a fine antique, puzzling out what it was made of, if its provenance was trustworthy and if it would hold up under pressure. I said nothing and somehow managed to look him in the face.

  “You’ve been with us for about three months now, is that correct?” He asked.

  The question threw me. No introduction, no angry lecture? I swallowed.

  “Nearly. I started in early May.”

  “I assume you’re enrolled in one of the local universities?”

  My heart started pounding faster in my chest. Why did he want to know where I went to school? Was he going to call the job placement department in the work-study office and tell them what an awful hire I was, and that they should never match me with another internship again? Could he do that?

  “I’m at NYU,” I managed.

  “Studying?”

  “Photography. With a minor in communications.”

  He probably didn’t need that last little tidbit, but I threw it out anyway, to make sure that he didn’t think I was hiding anything from him. Luke inclined his head to one side, his scrutiny of me becoming somehow even more intense. Tiny drops of sweat formed in my hairline, and I wondered how long I could keep this up before my legs buckled underneath me.

  “Photography,” he said with a hum of intrigue. “That’s interesting; I don’t think we have anyone with that background on staff right now. At least not in this department. Can I ask you something, Emily?”

  “Of course Sir,” I managed, even though I wanted to say something more.

  “Why did you take the intern position at SkyBlue? I’ve seen your resume. It doesn’t seem to keep with your past work history, and as you’ve said, you’re a photograph
er. Shouldn’t you be spending your summer snapping candids on the subway and forcing your friends to pose for editorial shoots?”

  I couldn’t tell if I detected a snide edge to his voice or not, then decided that he was actually genuinely interested, not belittling my passion at all.

  “I wanted something more official,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I thought it would be important for me to get more office experience, and SkyBlue is such a well-respected company that when I saw the ad, I knew I had to apply.”

  I hoped I wasn’t laying it on too thick. It wasn’t a lie, not strictly speaking. But this seemed like the worst time imaginable to admit that I had chosen this job from a random list at the last-minute or let the CEO of the company know that I was angling for a personal recommendation letter. So I stretched the truth and watched his expression warily. He was harder to read than anyone I had ever met, and he wore a face of vague, unyielding displeasure.

  “Would you be interested in working with me on a project?” Luke asked. He made it sound like a natural question, not like an abrupt statement that sent me reeling.

  “Work? With you?”

  “That’s generally what people do at their jobs.”

  Luke straightened up, moving a few paces closer to me with a smooth, almost feline air. I couldn’t decide if he looked predatory like this or comforting, but there was no denying that he was tall and handsome and getting closer to me. Suddenly I didn’t know what to do with my hands, and I curled them and uncurled them at my sides.

  “I’m not sure what sort of experience I have that would be useful to someone like you,” I managed because I still couldn’t believe my ears. Luke’s eyes flicked over me, hitting the ground before crawling up my body again.

  “I’m sure you could be very useful to me. It sounds like you’ve got a lot of versatile skills.”

  All the blood in my body rushed to my face, and to other parts that I wouldn’t mention in polite company. I was sure he hadn’t meant it that way, but somehow I was still affected, body and soul, by his insinuation. Would I like being useful to him? A sinful picture coalesced in my mind of him bending me over the desk behind us, pulling my hair away from my neck and telling me to show him how versatile I was. I shuddered, which he must have noticed. Still, he didn’t say anything, just waited for my response.

  “What kind of project?”

  “Photography, obviously. I’m tired of all the media outlets and photographers-for-hire traipsing in and out of my office. If I had someone on staff to do the heavy lifting for press releases, that would save me a lot of headaches.”

  Oh, of course. This is what he had meant all along, just a professional opportunity. One I should be grateful for. So why was there a small, quiet sensation of disappointment sitting cold in my stomach?

  “I think I’d be interested in that, yes.”

  Luke almost smiled at me, the fleeting upward curve of his mouth nearly imperceptible.

  “Perfect. I’ll call you with details.”

  I blinked a bit, eyelashes fluttering. At some point he drifted even closer and was now standing directly in front of me, looking down at me. If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch him, press my palm against his broad chest or touch the strands of silver sprouting at his temples.

  “Alright. I’ll wait for your call, then.”

  “You’re free to go. Unless…”

  “Yes?”

  “You need anything else from me?”

  My breath caught in my throat. Men didn’t usually stand this close to me unless they had a mind to kiss me, and I found, to my utter devastation, that some part of me did want Luke Thorpe to kiss me. Just a fleeting, illicit duck of his head and pressing of his mouth to mine, the pressure of warm desire that was sure to make me melt in his hands.

  But I didn’t do anything. I just stood there, staring up at him with my eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth. Then I said.

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. I’ll be in contact soon.”

  I turned to leave but was stopped with my hand on the door by Luke’s effortlessly commanding voice.

  “Emily?”

  “Yes?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

  “Knock next time, please.”

  I barely managed a nod before I slipped out the door and back into a world where I could breathe and see straight. Olivia shot me a worried look from her desk near Luke’s office, but I spared her the details. I didn’t want her to get any more worked up than she already was.

  “He just told me to knock next time,” I said breezily, hoping my bright red cheeks didn’t give me away. “And he wanted me to introduce myself. We haven’t been able to meet yet.”

  Olivia’s dark eyes narrowed at this.

  “Mr. Thorpe doesn’t talk to interns, not generally.”

  I shrugged.

  “Maybe he’s changing his policy.”

  Olivia peered keenly at me once more, then rolled her eyes and turned back to her work.

  “Control freak,” she said under her breath, probably about Luke. Then, more audibly, she said, “You got lucky this time. But please, be more careful in the future.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. You’re free to go back to whatever it was you were doing.”

  I went back to my desk but quickly lost all hope of slipping back into the rhythm of work. My mind was on Luke, on his steady, steely eyes and the way they had examined every inch of me mercilessly. I knew for sure I would be staring at my phone all night, all week if I had to until I got his promised phone call. As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait long.

  Chapter Seven

  Luke

  I promised myself I would wait. Play it cool, do a little more research on Emily and her background, and think of a genuinely compelling project to invite her into before calling her up on the phone. I promised myself I wouldn’t waste her time with idle chatter or lunge at the opportunity to hear her voice like a high school kid with unsupervised phone time. I knew what a delicate balance there was between employers and employees at SkyBlue and that blurring those lines or an indiscretion could disrupt the entire ecosystem of the office. Emily was in an especially precarious position as a young intern working for a job experience credit at a large competitive company, and I knew if office rumors started swirling around, it would harm her the most. I promised myself that I would premeditate any further moves towards Emily. I wouldn’t insert myself into her space or reach out to her right away.

  But as good as I was at keeping my word to investors and employees, I had never been good at keeping promises to myself, especially when they involved denying myself something that I wanted.

  So as soon as I got home to my luxury condo and dumped my briefcase down on the kitchen island, I brought my phone out and texted Olivia to send me Emily’s number. It wouldn’t look too unseemly, a boss asking for an employee’s contact information. People did this sort of thing all the time. Olivia didn’t have to know my reasons for wanting to keep a closer eye on Emily, only that I had a vested interest in one of my intern’s professional development.

  Surprisingly, I got pushback.

  Why? She texted back promptly.

  She will be taking on some new responsibilities in addition to her usual duties under Sonia. I want to be able to reach her directly if need be. I thought for a moment and then added, For photo shoots, hoping this would satisfy Oliva’s curiosity.

  I’m not sure if I’m allowed. You’ll have to ask Sonia.

  This is a time-sensitive thing, Olivia. Please do it.

  There was silence for a moment, and I wondered if I had offended her so much that she was putting me on radio silence. I still didn’t know where we stood after our little falling out a few days ago, although she accepted the peace offering I had asked one of the interns to deliver to her desk. Olivia was a hard nut to crack, as stubborn as she was smart, and you couldn’t get her to do anything she hadn’t already decided to.

  But th
en, a few minutes later, she texted over Emily’s number with no message attached. Good old Olivia. I could always rely on her.

  Without waiting another moment, I selected Emily’s number and hit call.

  While the phone rang, I picked out a bottle of full-bodied red wine from the wooden rack in my kitchen and poured myself a glass. I swirled the ruby liquid around while the electronic buzzing continued until I reached her answering machine. I quickly hung up, because while calling her home after hours was something I was comfortable doing, leaving a voice message seemed like a step too far.

  Leave it alone, I urged myself. She’s not biting, so let her go. There are other women.

  But Emily was the only woman I had been able to think about for the past two months. Those huge blue eyes and that fiery silken hair and those slim, perfect hips had haunted my waking and sleeping hours ever since I had seen her on the street. I tried to forget. I tried to see other people and then barring that I tried to be patient with her when she dodged me at work. Eventually, something had to give. Apparently, that something was me.

  I picked up the phone and dialed her again, chewing the inside of my lip while I waited for her to answer. The fumes from my wine were fragrant and ripe, smelling like dark soil and plums. I took a sip while I fidgeted in expectation. Then, after the phone rang three times, Emily picked up.

  “Hello?”

  She sounded a little skeptical, and I realized that I had never given her my private number so she would have no idea who to expect.

  “Emily,” I said, trying to keep the fondness out of my voice to keep this professional. “It’s Luke Thorpe.”

  I hadn’t given her explicit permission to use my first name but hoped that she would take the hint and slide into this new level of intimacy with me. We were going to be working very closely together, after all, one way or another.

  “Oh!” She sounded a little startled. “Hello! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you—”