Taming the Boss (3 page)

Chapter Four

Months went by and our encounters returned to normal. Distant, but passionate sex. One-sided encounters became a thing of the past, however, and we both left her office, or the stationary closet, satisfied. I should have been elated. Most work days ended late, but with an orgasm worth the long hours. I got to live my life independently of relationship woes while still getting my itch scratched, and the overtime was going a long way towards my nest egg.

It was just after tax time that I realized my overtime pay could be equated to sex-for-hire. Did she pay me to stay back late so I could service her rather high sex drive? Wishing the thought had never entered my brain, I couldn’t help but feel offended at the notion. Events out of our control all but confirmed my dalliance in prostitution.

A shit storm of monumental proportions hit Liz Morris’s company that fall. A hostile takeover from a ruthless competitor, coupled with the majority of her board being swindled with hefty profits, landed her unemployed.

It was a Monday when I ran into her office after hearing the news over the weekend. I ran headlong into chaos. Immaculately presented one hundred percent of the time, her office was littered with boxes filled with items that left shelves and walls empty.

“It’s true then?” I asked, wishing the evidence wasn’t in high-definition before me. The fact of the matter was obvious.

She nodded at me and kept emptying drawers.

“We’re out of a job?”

She cleared her throat. “No,
I
am out of a job.
You
were retained.”

“What?”

“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”

I ignored the slight barb as my mind whirled. If she’s leaving, I’ll never get to see her again. Something inside me broke at the thought. I walked over to her and stilled her hands. “I’m coming with you. I’ll quit.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She pulled out of my grip and continued throwing things into boxes.

“I’m not staying here without you.”

She dropped a paperweight and I winced as something in the box broke at the impact. “Miss Scott, that is most unwise. You won’t be rewarded for valiantly falling on your sword.”

“I’m not doing to be valiant. I’m doing it out of loyalty. You’re my…” I floundered for an adjective. What was she exactly? My boss? My lover? My girlfriend?

“I’m your what, Miss Scott?”

“You know…we’re…” I flopped my hand about in a useless gesture.

Her face morphed into contempt. “I’m uncertain what exactly you deem our relationship as, Miss Scott, however, I should inform you that you were nothing more than a pleasurable distraction from my daily routine. Overtime wages well spent.”

My jaw dropped and my chest began to ache.

“What? You believe there was something more than simple attraction and lust?” She laughed. A cruel, cruel sound that cut like a hundred hot knives to the chest. She reached out and took my chin in her hand, still grinning smugly. “Trust me, dear, my future is assured and I’m positive I can find another loyal pet to tame. You, however, should reconsider your noble act. Keep your job, Peta. It’s the best one you’ll ever have.”

I stepped back and wrenched my face from her grip. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly serious. Now, make yourself useful, or get the hell out of my office.”

I did as she said. I left the office, however, I took it one step further, and I left the corporation entirely. Heartache tore at my body as Liz’s parting words replayed themselves for months. I wallowed in my own self-pity and naivety to loan my heart out to a cold, ruthless woman incapable of feeling.

My savings were dwindling fast, and as Christmas came and went, the harsh cold started to look a lot like my bank account. In thick, record-breaking snow, I trudged the streets of New York to submit applications all over the city. After the twelfth rejection, I began to feel cursed. Sick of the unexplained knock-backs, and ready to call this year a bust, I stormed the office of my latest failed submission and scared the life out of a twenty-something Barbie dressed up like a secretary.

Shoving past her futile attempts, I wrenched the doors open of the HR manager for the marketing firm I was storming around in and slapped my resume on his desk. “I am a goddamn diamond! I have years of corporate experience and knowledge that half this building doesn’t have! Explain to me why I’m not good enough to work for you!”

The man gaped for a little while and then cleared his throat. “I’m sure it was a simple case of a better candidate.”

“There
are
no better candidates! I’m the best you’ll ever find, so why the hell won’t you hire me?”

The man swallowed thickly as I glared at him. “Uh…umm…”

“Well!”

He fiddled with his computer for a moment before looking back at me timidly. “I’m sorry, Miss Scott, but it appears your name has been blacklisted across the city.”

I blinked and fell back. “I…what? Blacklisted?”

He nodded with pity in his eyes.

“Black-listed by whom?”

He looked at his computer, but I already knew the answer. So did he. “Elizabeth Morris.”

“That goddamned bitch!” I screamed and tore out of the building. Knowing exactly where she lived, I made haste for her downtown apartment. Haste turned to a crawl as the snowed-in traffic inched across the city. I grew impatient and, thanking the cab driver, I exited the vehicle and made good time across town on foot. Such a shame about my favorite pumps now bathed in icy slush.

My rage at Miss Morris paid off in heat, and the cold soon became a distant memory. I was melting a track across Manhattan with justifiable rage. Busting past a stunned doorman, I entered a lobby that gave me pause. Never having entered this building, I was struck with awe at the opulence of it all.

“Excuse me, Miss, can I assist you?”

I faced the concierge as he looked at me suspiciously.

“Yes. I’m here to see Elizabeth Morris.”

His eyebrows raised. “Is Miss Morris expecting you?”

I considered that briefly. Surely she must have known that I’d eventually find out about her machinations that made me unemployable. “Yes.”

The concierge looked dubious. “Let me call through. Your name please?”

“Peta Scott.”

He nodded and made the call. Surprise lit up his face when he ended the call and gestured to the elevator. “Twentieth floor.”

I stormed over without a word of thanks. The elevator serviceman gave me a timid smile and took me to my destination. Bracing myself with a deep breath, I stepped onto the twentieth floor lobby and stared at Liz’s white door.

“Here goes nothing,” I whispered, rapping my knuckles beside the brass number.

“Peta,” she said, a soft smile on her face. How dare she look happy, and beautiful, and just…well…damn perfect?

I did the only thing I thought was appropriate. I slapped her.

She fell back shocked and clasped her cheek.

I refused to feel guilty and invaded her space. “How dare you sabotage my career? I did
nothing
to you. I was your devoted freaking slave that did nothing wrong but fall in love with you. And how do you repay me? By calling me nothing but your sex slave and forcing me into destitution!”

She gaped at me after gasping. “You love me?”

“I…what? No.”

She frowned. A glorious sight of cute confusion. “You just said you fell in love with me.”

Oops
. I ignored the subject entirely and went with: “Why did you blacklist my name?”

She stared at me for a moment, obviously warring with which conversation to persist with. With a sigh, she beckoned me to follow her. I took the opportunity to look around the apartment and my jaw dropped.
This woman was loaded.

She took me into an office and gestured to a sofa. I stood petulantly.

“Please, sit.”

Sighing, I did, but I retained my mature pout.

“I’m sorry that I made you unemployable, but I assure you I did that with the best intentions.”

“How is forcing someone onto the streets a good intention?”

Her eyes widened and she gasped again. “You’re homeless? I’m sorry, I was assured you were still financial.” She growled and snatched at her phone. “Someone is about to pay for that.” She angrily pressed numbers into her phone.

“Wait, I still have a roof over my head,” I assured her. “Though…probably not for long.” It was embarrassing to confess that, especially surrounded by exquisite things screaming wealthy and carefree.

“Oh,” she said, cancelling the call.

I shook my head, confused. “What is going on? How do you know whether I’m financial or not. Better yet, why do you care?”

She hummed a reply, which gave me as much insight as what handing over a pineapple would have. Apparently Liz Morris didn’t get any less complicated.

“I’m afraid I’ve been selfish.”

I tried but failed to hide my scoff. She glared and I attempted to contain myself.

“Like I said, I’ve been selfish. Just because my company was ripped out from beneath me, doesn’t mean I don’t have plans in place. You are, quite frankly, the most efficient assistant I’ve ever had, and presumed that our two-year working relationship could benefit from continuation.”

Fairly, in my opinion, I said, “Huh?”

“You were supposed to stay with my former company, but as usual, your pig-headedness got in your way.” She leaned back against the sofa, crossed her distracting legs and ran an arm along the back rest in my direction. She looked like a queen. “I was poised to take a great deal of satisfaction from stealing you away from the new CEO. They would have floundered quite spectacularly, but alas, you threw a hissy fit and stormed off before I had a chance to do so.”

My teeth ached as I clenched my jaw. Did she not remember that I stormed off because she effectively named me as her call girl? Someone to provide a nice distraction at the end of the day to help ease her worries. I stood with a huff and she followed me with an agility I didn’t expect.

Gripping my suit collar, she shook her head. “No more running away.”

“I didn’t run away, I was insulted and informed I was replaceable. Tell me, did you ever find yourself another pet to tame?”

Her eyes narrowed. It almost looked like a wince.

“A suitable replacement, it seems, will be impossible to find.”

“Well don’t let me stop you from continuing your search.” I tried to pry her hands from my clothes, but her grip was firm and unrelenting.

“I have no intention of looking any further. Why should I, when the one I require is right here?”

I stilled my efforts at freeing her from my jacket and blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

“You’ll be sufficient for my needs.”

I laughed. A hollow, disbelieving sound. I wasn’t getting pulled back into her game again. “I don’t think so. Now, if you’ll kindly let me go.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do that.”

“So, what, you’re going to hang on to me forever?” I chuckled wryly at the thought.

“Exactly.”

The laughter fell from my face and a nervous fluttering cascaded through my body. I let myself get lost in eyes that looked more serious, yet more vulnerable, than I’ve ever seen. Frowning slightly and cocking my head a little, I said, “Liz?” Profound, I know, but it was the trigger that cannonballed the remainder of my days.

Her grip loosened on my clothing, but I didn’t shift away. Her hands by her sides, and an unsure expression on her face, I’m certain I’d never seen her so fragile, so lost, and so devastatingly beautiful.

“Liz?” I asked again. “What do you mean?”

She bowed her head, averting my eyes. “I didn’t expect this.”

Well, that answered nothing. “Expect what?”

She inhaled deeply and shifted her gaze back to mine. I nearly drowned in her eyes. They were pools of apology, remorse and something I couldn’t quite place. “This,” she said, as if that answered everything. She was the queen of vague, but as she cradled my cheeks in her palms and kissed me, I didn’t care if she spent the rest of her life grunting at me. That kiss was magnificent and everything we’d never shared.

That kiss felt like love.

As her tongue begged for entry, I granted her touch and wrapped her tight against me.

The need for air parted us, and when she stepped away, I felt my heart sink. She held out her hand and said quietly. “Please?”

I nodded and took her hand. Where she was guiding me, I didn’t care, but my knees nearly buckled at the sight of the king-sized bed she led me to.

“Liz?” I asked again, checking this is what she wanted. A bed was so much more intimate and exposing than the harsh surfaces of her former office. Nothing here represented the detachment she prided herself on.

“I’m sure,” she said with a slight nod. Unease still filled her words, so I took the initiative and turned her slowly so her back now faced the bed.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, foolishly in my opinion. This was a woman that had been at the top of the corporate food chain. She trusted nobody.