Page 4 of Crush

Talking of respect; respect had to be earned. What the fuck had she accomplished in life that was so noteworthy. How to look good in designer clothes and put people down wasnota thing.

I had learned about life the hard way, having crawled my way up the ranks of my father’s business in a proper blood, sweat and tears scenario. My old man had made me work for it and I had been given no free rides. I’d had to prove myself from the bottom up and earn my place at the top. I’d started as an errand boy during a work experience placement and had never been treated as the boss's son.

Now I was flying solo, every successful project delivered had been accomplished by my relentless drive and sheer grit. I certainly hadn’t had the luxury of handouts from Daddy, ‘unlike some’ I thought, dragging my gaze away from the current source of all my pain. Fuck me she was beautiful though; you couldn’t deny that.

As I allowed Amber to carry onramblingfrom centre stage, I thought about how I had ended up babysitting her arse.

I was the owner of a successful construction company and was in the process of building a new bar extension onto a recently refurbished hotel. My estimator had flagged up some concerns after he’d recently reworked the finances for the project’s completion. He explained that the predicted costs of building materials had been much higher due to unexpected increases in inflation. The cold, hard truth of the matter was that the project would run out of cash before it was delivered.UnlessI sold some investments or assets. Something I wasn’t prepared to do. I had recently acquired three huge warehouses near the docks and I was hoping to develop them. If I sold them so soon, I’d haemorrhagemoney. So, I’d been dealt with an alternative and my company, Hunter Construction had been forced to bring in another firm; not something I usually went for. Having a partner meant you had to run decisions by someone else and Ihatedgiving up control. Sharing wasn’t in my nature.

As Amber continued speaking, my dick twitched at the way her tits pushed against the too-tight blouse she was wearing. I swear she wore it on purpose to piss me off as well asto curry favour with my employees; both the male and female ones. Not wanting to come across as sexist, but the women I hired were usually of the butch variety. You needed strength to work in construction carting bricks around, so brawn was a must.

Yep, Amber-Leigh Swift also had the gay members of my team in that tiny paw of hers. The way Rachel, my foreman’s assistant, watched her was blatant; a sexual hunger which most men in the room were feeling; although they hid it well. And so, they should. My employees knew that I didn’t condone coworker relationships. They caused too much sexual angst amongst the ranks.

And there lay theotherproblem. Amber was my subordinate and therefore off limits. Part of my rage about the situation I was in was due to the sexual pull I felt towards her. Something I could do fuck all about, like an itch you were not allowed to scratch.

Amber’s height and build were also a sore point. The girl was tiny, doll-like, her head barely reaching my chin, but she wasn’t wary of me one jot. She was a cocky little spitfire; the mouth on her more than made up for what she lacked in size.

Bottom line, Lady Swift (and yes, the privileged bitch came with a title) was a delicate, feminine package with a perfect body and was every guy's wet dream. She had long ginger hair, like liquid fire which was usually scraped up into the tightest of buns; almost giving her a facelift she didn’t need. Her green, cat-like eyes constantly oozed her poor opinion of me and her plump, sweet mouth was usually twisted into a thin line. And don’t get me started on that nose, it wascute and button-like and smattered with freckles. Whenever I entered the room, it was stuck high up in the air; highlighting her disdain. The woman could force a guy’s ego to shrivel up and die with just one look. It was a shame that such a spiky personality was attached to such a stunning face and killer body.

Newsflash; Lady Amber-Leigh Swifthatedme at first sight and I hadnoidea why. Women usuallylovedme, I was tall and tanned, well-built and good-looking. I was also inked to fuck and wore my tats like a boss, no one messed with me. I also had a decent enough personality with a good sense of humour and I was fair to those who didn’t cross me. Then there was the added appeal of my bank balance. Moneyopenedall sorts of opportunities, no sexual pun intended.

I was Maxim James Hunter; a successful businessman at only twenty-nine years of age. I ran a large multi-million-pound construction company and was responsible for building several successful hotels, bars, and leisure centres around Greater London.

Having lost a stillborn brother, I was an only child like Amber. And yes, my parents had given me a start in life to a certain extent but not the silver spoon variety. My dad had started Hunter Construction but I had gone above and beyond and doubled the size of the original company in only three short years. This had allowed my father to retire early and he now spent most of his time on the golf course or sunning himself with my mother at their villa in Spain,justas it should be.

Now I ran the show.

Amber had probablyneverworked an honest day in her life. Her father owned the firm I had partnered with for the bar extension. I had been forced to agree to that mutually beneficial fifty-fifty contract after Keith, my estimator, had broken the news about our finances. Most of my money was tied up in other shit. As I said, I needed a huge injection of cash and Lord Jonathan (aka Jonny) Charles Swift was the man I had sealed the deal with.

If I had known our agreement came with having to play the minder to his pampered little princess, I’d have walked away. It was onlyafterwe had signed the contract that he’d insertedthataddendum; one to coach his only child through the project managing process of the job we were working together on. Amber must have woken up one morning bored with her usual mundane social events and thought today,todayI want to be a project manager, just my frigging luck. At least Jonny hadn’t gotten too involved, his side of the partnership was more the silent type which I could just about tolerate.

“Any other questions?” Amber’s sultry, smoky voice filtered into the space. Her tone was melodic, almost drawing you in. That wasn’t the issue, it waswhatshe said that rattled my cage. The woman had no filter.

Maintaining my poker face, I leaned back and perched on the edge of the desk behind me. Amber shot me a dismissive glance as the table creaked and I folded my arms across my chest whilst I watched her take questions.

As I cleared my throat, she shot me one of those dirty looks of hers, anyone out front wouldn’t have seen it. Amber was way too polished to allow the team to see her true side.

She was a rich, man-hating, stuck-up society princess with a huge stick up her arse,playingat project management. I was successful in my own right, a decent enough bloke if you didn’t take the piss, and yet,shelooked down her nose atme.What the hell was that about? As I said, I had a tough hide and shouldn’t give a shit but the fact that I was so disliked by a female who looked like her, wound me up.

Women didn’thateme, and so what was wrong with this one? I had toyed with the possibility that she was gay, but the way she flirted with my foreman Wes had blown that idearightout of the water. My friend Gabriel said she probably had a high-society boyfriend. If there were a boyfriend in the mix, my sympathies were with the unfortunate fucker.

‘It’s almost like she looks through me and I’m not used to that from a woman,’ I had vented to my best friend Gabriel aka Gabe one night over drinks.

‘Maybe she’s just not that into you,’ Gabe had said with thebiggestsmile. So wide that I’d wanted to bitch-slap it off his face. He was like a brother to me and was well-practised at getting on my tits. He reckoned Amber and I fought so much because we fancied each other. No way! Yes, she was a looker and there was an attraction but I wouldn’t have touched her with someone else’s dick. Too much of a ball-ache. That itch would have to remain unscratched no matter how much it burned.

“Lady Swift,” a big guy everyone knew as Mash, suddenly piped up. His hand was raised in the air like Amber was a fricking teacher. Unfolding my arms, I shoved moodily off the desk and took a step forward, watching her like a hawk.

“Please it’s just Amber, Michael,” she replied, all sweetness and light. Amber’s attempt to fit in was laughable. On site, she lifted out like a stripper in a church.

“Sorry, Amber,” he back-peddled with a slight blush. Ablushfor Christ’s sake? The guy was built like a brick shithouse and looked meaner than me.

“It’s fine, Michael. You were saying?”

It fucked me off that she was on a first-name basis with someone who had worked for me for months and yet to me, he was Sanderson or that silly nickname of his, Mash. I hadn’t a clue what his first name was, until now of course. It made me feel like an ignorant twat that hadn’t taken the time to get to know his staff.

We were in one of the PortaKabins on site. I’d called a crisis meeting after the flooding situation. I had purposely suggested Amber field any questions and hold the floor. Purely to give the girl some experience. See, I did invest in my people but now the way she was handling the session had started to annoy me. Her stance suggested she was in charge when I was standingrightthere. I shifted closer.

At my nearness, I saw her flick me another sideways glance and she trembled. Interesting. She wasn’t as unfazed by my presence as she attempted to make out. The possibility of that fuelled my confidence. It meant I could knock her down a peg or two.

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