Page 8 of Broken Boss

As much as I don’t want to think about it, memories spill in. Toxic relationships from my past, few and far between, but enough. The shouting, the anger, the raised hands. One ex in particular comes to mind, his eyes pure evil. I push thoughts of him away, stand, and shake off the past.

“No way,” I say out loud to Frank and to myself. “I don’t care if he wants me. I’m not letting a man like Chris Sharpe have me.”

Chapter 4

Chris

Monday—the day Marty likes to remind me exactly what I could have if I would only give in.

Every Monday at 9 a.m., I have the associates gather in one of the conference rooms to update me on the cases they’re working. Marty loves making a show of it, and she’s going full speed today with a presentation that requires her to stand on her toes to point to the screen. Completely unnecessary, but it’s probably serving its purpose since her skirt rides up high, just under her ass.

Don’t get me wrong, Marty is an attractive woman. Close to my age, her youthful face is marred only by frown lines and too much lipstick. She keeps her long hair down, defying the gender stereotype. Many people think that women in the professional workplace should keep their hair up, as it gives them more authority.

I disagree. What gives them more authority is doing their job well.

“Can we cut to the chase, Marty? You laid down the groundwork for this case last week, so you can move ahead.”

My words are direct, but not cruel. Maybe they should’ve been, because Marty gives me a flirty smile and smoldering look.

“Anything for you, Mr. Sharpe.”

Internally, I’m cringing. It’s so obvious what she’s doing, and as I glance down the table, I see Autumn roll her eyes.

That’s when the lightbulb goes off…could Autumn be jealous of Marty?

My eyes rove back and forth between the two as Marty, the last associate to present this morning, wraps up.

They’re two very different women. For starters, Autumn’s presentation was short and sweet. She told me only what I needed to know and what she had planned this week. She recognized other associates and interns on her team for their accomplishments. Then she shut up and sat down.

Today she’s wearing a high-neck burgundy shirt that draws attention away from her ample chest. Smart move, since two of the male interns on her team are clearly head over heels for her.

They watch her with puppy dog eyes, completely ignoring Marty. I lean back in the chair and try to suppress a smirk. Can’t blame them. They have good taste.

“Thank you, everyone. You’re dismissed. Ted—stop by my office later and we can go through that deposition together. I think you’re right and there’s something more there.”

The group of about thirty people begins to file out. Autumn flashes Marty another glare. I kick my heels up on the adjacent chair and watch, amused and curious.

Marty can’t let go; she’s like a dog with a bone.

Heading back from the weekly financial meeting, she catches me on the main floor. Not a great place for situations like this when she presses herself in close, nothing but a take-out bag separating us.

“Mr. Sharpe, I took this off Joshua’s hands for you.”

She purrs, arching her back to press her breasts up against the low-cut top she’s wearing. I can feel eyes on us and start to get annoyed, hot anger racing through my veins.

That’s when I look up and see Autumn.

Her face is turned toward us, but she’s bent over a desk, explaining something to an eager group of legal assistants. She rolls her eyes again before focusing back on the task at hand. The position brings attention to her waist and her taut calves, and my brain conjures up the image of her in my bedroom in a similar position…

“That’s not mine,” I snap, unable to look away from Autumn as I push past Marty. She stumbles back in surprise.

The logical part of my mind has been pushed far back in a corner. Instinct has taken over, and I’m too focused on what I want.

Her.

“Miss Cavendish.”

She straightens in surprise, the silk of her blouse settling beautifully around her curves.

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