‘Why aren’t you listening?’
He folded his arms in front of her. The stance just made his biceps pop more.
Jade, who’d held her nerve for so many years, in so many public situations in Monrova, was completely distracted. For the first time ever, her brain slipped into mush territory and her tongue slipped away from her.
‘You...’ It wasn’t good enough. She needed to do better for Juno. She drew a deep breath and began again. ‘You need to give me a chance.’
‘You’ve had plenty of chances. But you haven’t answered any calls or messages for forty-eight hours. And now you walk in here looking...’
Jade tensed warily. Looking what? Had he guessed already?
‘Like butter wouldn’t melt,’ he finished with a growl.
She was buffeted by a wave of relief that she might pull this off. He hadn’t instantly recognised that she wasn’t Juno. She struggled to stare calmly back at him. Never had it been so hard to stand still and stay cool.
‘Forty-eight hours, Juno,’ he repeated. ‘Why didn’t you return any calls?’
It was always best to answer with honesty, right? Or at least with as much honesty as she was able at this point in time. ‘I was out of range.’
‘Really? That’s what you’re going with?’ He couldn’t look more disbelieving. ‘Maybe you should have stayed out of range.’
‘I’m here now.’
‘Why?’
‘Why do you think?’
‘What do you think you can possibly do to make this better?’
She had no idea. Never had she been challenged with such hostility or fury and she was lost for words.
His eyebrows lifted. ‘Way too little, way too late.’
Jade was tired from the flight. Stressed from maintaining a stupid lie for such a short time already. This had been such a bad idea. The little ‘snafu’ that Juno had mentioned had apparently morphed into something bigger. But this—creature—couldn’t be that unreasonable. And she needed to re-engage her brain. ‘I couldn’t...’
‘I’m going to shower and dress,’ he interrupted, apparently bored already. ‘You’ll be gone when I return.’
He’d turned his back on her and was walking away before she could blink.
Jade gaped as she watched him stride through the office. He thought he could just fire her? Be that dismissive? He hadn’t even given her a chance to properly explain, let alone offer a solution. Never had she met someone so unreasonable.
She’d bitten off more than she could chew. She’d been impetuous and foolish and she had no way of pulling this off. But this was for Juno and she had to succeed at saving her sister’s job. She was not giving up.
Alvaro strode through the office to the bathroom and flicked the shower to cold, desperate to regain control over the appallingly base reaction of his body. That woman had walked in here at stupidly early o’clock—wheeling a case, for some strange reason—and frankly almost looking furtive. He’d finished his workout only five minutes earlier and followed her progress from his office. He’d seen her smile as she’d made her way to her desk. A smile of pure joy. Why was she so amused by this situation?
And worse was that he’d been flooded with a heat that was outrageous in its intensity. Anger, right?
Not entirely.
But that visceral betrayal of his body had only exacerbated his anger. He refused to be physically attracted to Juno Monroyale. Hell, he barely knew her. His marketing manager had pitched hiring her to him only a few weeks ago, but he’d been overseas setting up a major deal and hadn’t spent much time in the office since her arrival.
Unfortunately, it turned out that the princess was stunning. Her eyes a gorgeous, bewitching green. Her brunette hair was swept up in a high bun that emphasised cheekbones and plump lips and her pretty little chin tempted him to tilt it upwards so she could take his kiss.
It was appalling. He’d not been paralysed by lust like this in quite a while. Not as instantly or as intensely or as inappropriately. She was an employee. Worse, she was an employee who’d screwed up. Royally.
So the sooner she was out of here, the better.
He glared at the shower wall as if his eyes were lasers and could burn right through the tile and wood to where that woman was wheeling her damn case out of here.
She’d better be walking out of here—in those thin-soled stupid shoes with their little high heels that were useless for the snow-threatened streets of New York. It said it all, right? Ill-equipped for real life? She was a literal princess who didn’t own up to her mistakes. She’d apparently abandoned her colleagues—did she just assume that someone else would clear up the mess?
He knew too well how that worked. He knew people with such privilege who’d refused to carry the burdens of their own responsibility—their own mistakes. His own ‘family’ were the perfect example of that—while he’d been the ‘mistake’.
So he had little time to sympathise with Her Royal Highness. And he had little time to get this sorted. But he would, because he’d built this entire company—with determined, round-the-clock effort. Its increasing success had meant he’d had to assemble teams around him, but at heart he preferred independence and self-reliance. He’d never liked asking anyone to help him. Never expected anyone would—not unless there was something in it for themselves. Something like a fat pay cheque.
This princess had no idea what building this success had taken. Whether her cluelessness was based in pure entitled privilege, or mere carelessness, it didn’t matter. Whichever it was, he didn’t want her around.
To be honest, it wasn’t the actual social media post he was bothered about. While that app was his oldest and he had a soft spot for it, it wasn’t his core business now. But it was the trust that had been damaged. And he was in the middle of a delicate acquisition and the last thing he needed was for his prospective target to be frightened off.
He exited the shower and dressed, yanking a shirt from the hanger and swiftly buttoning it. Then he strode back out to the office to check that she’d obeyed his order and had gone.
She hadn’t.
He paused a few paces away from where she sat at her desk, focusing hard on the computer screen before her. ‘Why are you still here?’
She didn’t stop typing. ‘Because I’m sorting out this issue.’
‘The only issue here is that you haven’t left yet,’ he scoffed.
‘Then call your security, I’m not leaving.’ She spun her seat round a few inches and glared up at him.
Oh, really? Adrenalin rippled within him at her audible defiance. ‘I don’t need security to help haul your ass out of this building. I can scoop you up with one hand.’ In fact, both of his hands were itching right now.
‘Try it and see how far you get,’ she snapped back.
Jade never snapped. Ever. And to her absolute amazement, she just had. Their gazes clashed. Never had she felt as small as she did sitting on this chair, nor had she felt such appalling anticipation.
‘Not going to give you the thrill,’ he muttered through clenched teeth.
‘Not going to move,’ she replied.
She’d laid the challenge with loathing, but a second later a wave of longing swept over her. She wanted to feel his hands grab her waist and haul her to her feet and press her against his hard body. She wanted it so intensely, with such ferocity that for a second, as she stared into his eyes, she actually believed that he wanted it too. That he envisioned exactly that—the two of them pressed tightly together.
Her heart thudded as they silently squared off. Impossibly, he was more dangerous now in that sharp white shirt and the black trousers. She could sense the heat and strength of the muscles she knew full well were primed beneath that expensive fabric. But she refused to flinch, or shrink back...right now she refused to even breathe.
He still just
stared at her. But where his stance was furious, his eyes were nothing but warm—a honeyed amber iris and melting, deep pupils that widened the more she watched—daring her nearer, willing her to dive in and drown.
‘Let me have a go at fixing this,’ she eventually croaked.
‘And make it worse?’
‘Why not trust me to do the job I was hired to do?’
‘You’ve already shown you’re incapable of doing that. You chose to walk out.’
‘So a person can’t make a single mistake? You can’t give someone a second chance? This wasn’t a capital offence, Alvaro. This wasn’t even illegal.’
It had been the tiniest mistake and he was totally overreacting.
‘It was a data breach.’
‘Actually, it wasn’t,’ she said firmly. ‘It clearly states in the terms and conditions of the app that Byrne IT has the right to use that data in any publicity.’
His gaze narrowed on her.
Yes, she’d spent the time waiting for the train reading up all she could. And she was good at reading long, boring documents and legalese.
‘While it wasn’t ideal and while it certainly might not have been best policy,’ she continued, ‘it wasn’t illegal. And you can change the policy to better reflect what your consumers are now saying they want.’
‘You’re not going to admit to doing anything wrong?’
‘Actually, the contrary.’ She straightened on her chair—pointless as it was because he was still so much taller than her. ‘I take full responsibility. It was my mistake and I’ll apologise for it.’
Juno had posted the wrong graphic on one of their social media channels. Version one instead of version two. Version one included user names whereas version two had been made anonymous. It had been such a simple mistake but some of those users had noticed and didn’t like their usernames being displayed. The lack of initial response had led to that small flame of discontent flaring to a dumpster blaze and an online debate about privacy rights.
‘Fine. You’ve apologised. Now you can leave.’
‘Not leaving.’ She spun back to the screen.
‘What are you doing?’
She didn’t glance away from the computer. ‘I said I’d apologise.’
‘You just did.’
‘Not only to you.’
He paused. ‘You’re emailing the team before you leave?’
‘I already have. Because I’m sorry for going AWOL at the weekend, but I’m back. And now I’m replying to the complainants.’
‘What?’
‘Everyone makes mistakes,’ she said heatedly. ‘And most people deserve a second chance, right?’ she said. ‘Most normal people are willing to give that.’ She sent him a look.
He folded his arms across his very muscular chest. ‘You think a little apology is going to make this all go away?’
‘An acknowledgement can mean a lot.’ She nodded.
‘As can getting something for free,’ he added cynically.
‘Then I’ll give them a month free on their subscription. You can take it directly from my salary.’ She swallowed. She could cover that cost for Juno once she was back in Monrova. And it would be worth it just to prove herself in front of the furious one here.
‘You’re willing to the pay the price all by yourself?’ he asked.
She glanced back and looked directly into those heart-stopping eyes. ‘I’m willing to do whatever it takes.’
‘I didn’t think royals were known for admission of any kind of guilt,’ he commented acidly.
Oh, so he had a thing against all royals? Not just Juno in particular? ‘Did you think we’re all spoilt and entitled?’
‘I think...’ He paused, his words coming soft but dangerous nonetheless. ‘I think you need to prove yourself, Princess.’
She looked at him a moment longer and then lifted her chin. ‘Fine,’ she breathed, bluffing as best she could. ‘No problem.’
CHAPTER TWO
NO PROBLEM?
The annoying thing was, that appeared to be the case. Three hours into it, Alvaro studied the princess from the relative privacy of his office. She looked pale and thinner—at least he thought she did. Truthfully, he’d not spent much time considering her as he’d been away working on a deal. But Juno was right, this wasn’t a ‘data breach’ and they hadn’t actually contravened their own privacy policy, and perhaps her suggestion they amend their terms was worth considering.
So now he watched her messages appear online with interest. She was responding to every comment already made, signing each one ‘PJ’.
I’m sorry for the error. It was entirely my mistake. This was your story to share.
To his amazement, the diffusion of emotion was happening before his eyes. Comments kept appearing—more, then more replies to her responses. Now people were telling her not to worry about it? People were feeling sorry that she’d made a mistake? How had she got them onside so quickly?
Everyone makes mistakes, but mine impacted directly on you. I can only apologise and thank you for accepting my apology.
She’d written to one formerly cross customer and now they were asking her which was her favourite workout and chatting like old friends?
He looked up to observe her again. She was almost smiling as she typed—a whisper of a sweet smile. He’d had his doubts about hiring her, cynically thinking that his marketing manager just wanted to sprinkle some quasi-celebrity glitter about the place. And that Juno was cynical too, only doing this for profit. Prior to this she’d been an ‘influencer’ or something—he’d assumed that meant she merely peddled whatever product people would give her just to make a buck.
But maybe he’d been wrong about that, because she was genuinely engaged and actually enjoying this interaction. She worked quickly, using two computers to check on different social media channels, answering comments as quickly as she could. But the comments were snowballing now. One made him flinch. It was personally abusive. Vile.
Instinctively he stood, but before he could move she’d posted a polite, finite response. And now others had boosted her response and, in only moments, the abusive comment was buried in an avalanche of support for the princess.
So why had she skipped out for the weekend, then? Why hadn’t she replied to any of those messages from her workmates? No one had heard from her. No one had been able to reach her. Sophy, her direct manager, had been stressed—now Alvaro buzzed for them both.
‘Sophy, can you help Juno moderate those comments?’ he said shortly when they appeared in his doorway. ‘She shouldn’t have to see some of those...’
‘I can handle them,’ Juno replied before Sophy had the chance. ‘They’re only words and this shouldn’t impact on anyone else’s workload any more than it already has.’
Alvaro stared, his breath stolen by her restrained dignity—so different from the flare he’d seen from her this morning. ‘Are you sure?’
She nodded.
Through the afternoon he drank another two coffees and kept an eye on Juno. She didn’t move from her chair for hours. Surely, she needed food or a bathroom break? She’d didn’t stop to chat to colleagues much either. On the socials, there were more comments than ever. But not angry ones. Somehow, she’d got people sharing stories about when they’d screwed up. The community was more active than it had been in ages.
‘We’ve had a bump in sign-ups today.’ Sophy reappeared in his doorway, looking smug. ‘Across all the apps. They love her response and her apologies. She’s given us a masterclass in social media management,’ Sophy added. ‘Talk about the power of authenticity. And somehow she’s done it in a way that hasn’t made her a martyr.’
Alvaro didn’t respond. He was facing the discomforting fact that he wasn’t going to be able to fire her now. It ought to be good to have someone with such expert social media skills on his team
. So why did he feel thwarted? And what was with this prickling sense of danger?
He clamped down on the obvious reason. He refused to acknowledge the heat that had hit the second he’d clashed with her at five o’clock this morning.
‘They want to talk to her.’ Sophy turned and watched Juno from his office. ‘They like being able to talk to a real princess.’
He stiffened, bothered by that being the reason for her success. Were they using her because of who she was? He didn’t feel comfortable that he was benefitting in some way because of the name she had and the family she’d been born into. That he was taking advantage of something that was beyond her control...
And yet it wasn’t beyond her control. She was the one out there commenting, choosing how to respond, choosing to take the time. She could have chosen not to come back at all. She could have left when he’d told her to first thing this morning. But she hadn’t.
Then again, perhaps that was because she needed this job, needed to utilise whatever skills or assets or abilities she had—ones she was born with every bit as much as the ones she’d developed. Just because she was a princess, didn’t mean she had everything.
He knew what it was like having to do whatever it took to survive—sucking up crap jobs or working all hours. His foster carer, Ellen, had done that, taught him through her example that work ethic was everything. The one thing you could control.
So all he could do was respect and appreciate Juno’s effort and dignity. Yet he remained uncomfortable. He hadn’t felt this wary in years—not since that dreadful day when he was nine years old and had been dragged to face his biological ‘family’ only to be rejected all over again. And then abandoned. Again.
‘We need to clarify those terms and conditions,’ he said to Sophy irritably. ‘Get legal on it for me.’
‘Sure thing.’ But Sophy didn’t leave. ‘One of the online news bulletins has requested to interview you and Juno—she’d be good—’
‘Juno’s busy,’ he said decisively. ‘I’ll handle it.’
He wasn’t using her more today. Furthermore, he needed to get his inappropriate attraction under control. What was with that landing on him today? Why when he’d barely noticed her before now?
The Queen's Impossible Boss (The Christmas Princess Swap, Book 2) Page 2
