Plush Book 1: A Billionaire Romance (3 page)

The doors opened as the elevator reached the lobby. All in a huff again, I pushed past the two gossip queens and raced ahead towards the front doors. I needed fresh air, sunshine, and a whole lot of space.

“Son of a bitch!” I exclaimed, stepping into the sunlight outside the shadow of the towering office building I had just escaped from.

Not twenty feet away, there he was. Mr. Brighton. He was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, speaking into his phone. I looked around and didn’t see Bryce anywhere. I decided to walk past, fast, and hope he was too absorbed in his conversation to notice me and I could sneak away and text Bryce to meet me at my car instead of out front.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with it. That isn’t my job, it’s yours! I don’t have time to deal with the bullshit. Today has already been a complete cluster fuck. Send me a car, have this thing towed to your shop, fix it, and then have it sent back to my house.”

Yikes. Maybe those elevator girls had been right about the stick…

He hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. I pivoted and started to walk the other way but it was too late.

“Miss Rand?”

Shitballs.

“Yes, Mr. Brighton.”

“What are you doing down here?”

I bristled at his question. “I’m going to lunch if you must know. I didn’t figure you needed a text alert every time I left the office. But since you’re here, is that all right with you?” I asked, making sure to emphasize my sarcasm with a sickly sweet smile.

He returned the forced smile but his eyes were fierce and he bared his teeth in a way that sent a little chill up my spine.

“There is no need to report the insignificant portions of your day to me. I only care about the job and ensuring that it is done, and done right, in a timely manner. As long as that is done, you can go about your business as you see fit.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

We stood, squared off against each other and let our eyes wander down each other’s frames. It started out like two opponents in a boxing match, my five three against his six foot plus, his sharp angles and muscle in contrast to my soft, plentiful curves. His eyes shifted and darkened as he perused, offering no apology as they seemingly inspected every inch.

“Allie!”

We both snapped to attention at the interruption of Bryce’s cheerful voice.

“Oh! Uh, hello, Mr. Brighton. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, I’ll be on my way soon. My car broke down so I am waiting for another to be delivered. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. We were just heading to lunch. Would you care to join us while you wait?” Bryce suggested.

My eyes popped open and flew to Bryce, silently demanding he stop immediately.

Mr. Brighton laughed, this time a hearty laugh. “I don’t think Miss Rand here would really appreciate that. But thank you for the invitation all the same.”

Bryce laughed nervously and gave me a slight elbow.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” I said, giving him a sharp elbow in return. “Or, if you would like, I could take a look at the car and see if I could help you out.”

Mr. Brighton arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow in my direction. “Really?”

I mentally face-palmed. Why, oh why did I open my mouth?

“Yeah. I have brothers. I know my way around an engine.”

“This I have to see.” He ushered me forward and directed me to his car.

“How is this thing broken? It barely looks like it has dirt on the tires.”

“It’s only about a month old. And I don’t know—it won’t start.”

“Pop the hood.”

He crossed in front of me and went to the driver’s side, leaned in, and a moment later I heard the hood release. He closed the door and came back to stand side by side with me. Bryce had followed us but was standing back on the curb.

I shrugged out of my jacket, thankful I had worn a long-sleeved blouse underneath, and handed it to Mr. Brighton. “Here, hold this.”

I opened the hood, hooked it on the prop, and looked around, mentally checking things off as I went. Everything seemed in place. Nothing was disconnected or seemed to be loose. I was about to cut my losses and admit defeat, blame foreign engineering, and get back on track for mission margarita, when I saw it. I almost laughed with how easy it was. I popped the spark plug wire back into place. Satisfied, I shut the hood, went around to the driver’s side, and had the engine purring within a fraction of a second.

I shut the door and sauntered back to Mr. Brighton, absolutely loving the shocked look on his face.

“What was wrong?” he asked.

“You had a loose wire. Easy fix.”

“Wow. Well, thank you.” He smiled at me and it was the first authentic smile I had seen on his face. It was surreal how much it changed his face. His harshness melted away and he was even more handsome than the intimidating, barking orders, glaring version of himself.

“Not a problem,” I answered. “My jacket, if you don’t mind.”

“Right, of course,” he said. He held open the coat and waited. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing and I struggled to allow him to help me back into my jacket. I didn’t exactly come from a part of town where men helped women into their coats. His hand lingered on my arm for a moment and it seemed like he wanted to say something else, but suddenly he released me and pulled up his sleeve to check his watch.

“Listen, I’m really late for, uh, something. But thank you again. I will be in touch soon.” He went around me and started to get in his car before adding, “About the ads, I mean.”

I nodded and offered a slight wave before turning back to face Bryce. I heard the car pull out behind me but fought off the urge to turn around and see him one last time. Something in my gut told me that I would be seeing plenty of him soon enough and I had a hunch he would be back to his all-business mode.

“That was awesome!” Bryce exclaimed as we crossed the parking lot to his car.

“He was pretty shocked, huh?” I laughed as I remembered the look of astonishment on his perfectly chiseled face.

“Definitely. So, what the hell happened? You’re his new ad rep?”

I nodded. The picture of his face in my mind was replaced by the one of him as I flung ad pages at him. I briefly recapped the scene for Bryce as we got in his car and he drove us to a nearby café.

“You called him a douche!” Bryce was practically giddy as we sat over lunch, my breakdown of the meeting finally completed.

“Well, not exactly. It was implied, though.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Were you trying to get fired? Or is that just how you are?” he asked, but he was smiling at me like he already knew the answer.

“I’m sorry, Bryce. I know that my performance reflects on you, too. I shouldn’t have let my mouth get so carried away. He was just staring at me like I was an idiot or something, completely incompetent. I’m just a coffee girl. What could I possibly know about ads?”

“Or cars,” Bryce added.

“Yes, exactly! Or cars. What a dick.” I took another sip off my drink, loving the way the alcohol hit my system. Yes, a margarita was exactly what I needed.

“I have to say, he certainly wasn’t looking at you like you were an idiot when you were bent over his engine.”

I cocked an eyebrow in his direction. “Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m a piece of meat instead. Ugh.”

“I have a feeling you can take care of yourself. Although, tomorrow should be pretty interesting.” Bryce held up his glass. “Cheers!”

Chapter Four

A fitful night of sleep led to a zombie-like entrance to work the next morning. I wasn’t hung over but damn it if sleep deprivation mixed with a pack of anxiety riddled nightmares didn’t feel like the exact same thing. I got to my desk and slumped into my chair with my eyes still halfway closed. My coffee was cold but I slurped it down anyway, needing every last milligram of caffeine to get me through the day. As soon as my computer booted up I had a musical alert to indicate new emails. I set aside my cup and started scanning through the messages.

Twelve of them were from Mr. Brighton, the time stamps all scattered starting from 5:00 a.m. this morning. I read through them all. None of them had any personal feel—they were all strictly business, which for some reason I couldn’t explain, felt like a relief. After my conversation with Bryce the day before, I had been worried that things had crossed a line into the personal zone with Mr. Brighton, which is a place I knew I did
not
want to be. He might be the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen, real life or movies, and yet, I already knew he’d be nothing but trouble if I were to ever let myself entertain anything other than a business relationship.

I jotted down some brief notes, closed the email file, and went off in search of a refill. On the way to the company break room I spotted a man with a giant bouquet of flowers on the opposite side of the room, making his way into the cubicle maze. For some reason it stung a little to think about the unsuspecting woman who was about to receive the beautiful arrangement. I had only really been in one serious relationship and in the year plus that we were together I had never received so much as a single rose. I used to tell myself that it didn’t really matter, the flowers were just going to die and then you had to clean it all up. I would rationalize that really, my ex, Marx had been saving me from the headache of it all.

“What an asshole,” I whispered to myself. I shook my head to rid myself of any further temptation to wander down memory lane.

With a fresh cup of coffee I went back to my desk.

I jumped back when I looked up from my cup to see the gigantic bouquet of flowers I had seen in the arms of the delivery man moments before, now sat straight in the middle of my desk. I swooped into my cubicle, sat my coffee mug down, and ripped the tag off the vase.

“Thank you.”

I flipped it over. “Really? That’s it?” I asked out loud to no one in particular, seeing it was blank on the other side.

My racing heart knew exactly who they were from, but I still wanted confirmation, in writing, that this was all really happening.

Wait? What
was happening
? Technically, nothing. But it sure felt like more than that.

A group of people walked by and I had the strangest sense that they had already gone by once before. They all started whispering to each other as soon as they passed me. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but I saw their heads all bent together. One shot a glance back in my direction and I hurried to duck back into my cubicle.

I sat down on the edge of my desk and let out a sigh.

“What the hell am I going to do with you?” I turned to see Bryce staring at the flowers and then back to me with a stupid grin on his face. “Three days in and you’re already the center of the entire buzz around here.”

“Yes, I’m quite proud. Such an achievement.” I rolled my eyes.

He laughed and sat on my chair. “It’ll blow over, trust me.”

“What are they all saying about me?”

He paused for a moment, as if considering how best to break the news. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep your chin up.”

I frowned at him, unsure why he wouldn’t elaborate. I wanted to pry for more information but I was suddenly reminded that while Bryce and I were acquaintances, he was still technically my superior and it probably wouldn’t be the best thing to sit around gossiping on the clock.

Bryce seemed to sense my unease and offered me a lifeline to change the topic. “I’m assuming by now, he’s blown up your email account with a laundry list of problems that you need to fix. Immediately, of course.”

I nodded and opened my inbox to show him. He leaned over me and silently scanned through all the pages.

“Need any help?” he asked when he finished reading the last one.

“Well we should probably order me a new liver. ‘Cause I can already tell you, this man is going to drive me to drink. More than usual, I should say,” I added with a quirked smile.

Bryce laughed. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do on the liver. But seriously, Allie, this would be a lot for even our most senior employees. The phrase thrown to the wolves doesn’t even begin to cover what’s happening here. I’m furious with Rita for letting this happen in the first place, but until I can deal with her, what can I do to help?”

I buried my face in my hands. “I don’t know. He wants me to meet with the design team this morning and tell them everything I said yesterday when we met. But I don’t know how to do that without being a total bitch. When I made the comments yesterday, it was to prove a point to him, that I knew more than he’d expected.”

“I’d say mission accomplished. The real problem with that strategy is that you made Rita look bad when you attacked her department and their previous work, and she’s pissed. She probably would have fired you on the spot except for the fact that her biggest client insists you, and only you, work with him now.”

“Fuck my life. Three days in and I’m already on the shit list. Spectacular.” It took a moment, but slowly the picture shifted and I could see what happened. Rita had been in charge of the team, and in charge of trying to bring Mr. Brighton around to their concepts and ideas, and in one fell swoop, I’d destroyed all her work and humiliated her team of designers.

No wonder she had handed me over to Mr. Brighton without a second thought.

Another realization popped into my head and I gasped. “I’m so sorry, Bryce. I hope this didn’t damage your reputation, since you got me the job and all.”

He hesitated and I could tell he was holding something back, but all he said was, “I know you didn’t mean to cause any harm. Right now, it’s my job to make sure you have the tools and resources that you need to fix things with Mr. Brighton. Once that’s done, we can all relax. So consider me your new Mr. Miagi.”

I laughed at the reference. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“No problem. Now, let’s get to work. Otherwise, Mr. Brighton will have both our heads, and we’re both going to be unemployed, and last time I checked, that doesn’t look too good on a mortgage application.”

“Are you buying a house?”

Bryce nodded and sank into the chair next to mine. “Well, condo actually. My boyfriend, Clay, and I have our eye on a new development downtown.”