Page 3 of My Bossy Valentine

Avery snorts a giggle. She’s stacking up the mail on her desk, shaking her head and flattening her lips as if she’s trying not to laugh.

Gritting my teeth, I rein in my temper and try to keep my voice down. “If that is a concern, why are you calling so early? Is something wrong?”

“Is Avery doing a good job there?”

“Fine. Why?”

“Only fine? I thought she would do very well. What’s she doing wrong? I’ll talk to her.”

Scowling, I grab the pile of mail off Avery’s desk and stomp back into my office, closing the door. “What’s going on, Dot? Why the sudden concern over her performance at four am?”

“Well, it’s just that we’re having a wonderful time.”

I drop into my chair, struggling for patience. Dottie is not usually this scrambled. Either she is getting senile or somethingelse is going on. Knowing the woman as well as I do… “Out with it.”

She laughs, and there’s an edge of nervousness to it. “Never could fool you. I’m asking about my granddaughter because I’ve decided to retire.”

Leaning back in my chair, I feel the tension drain out of my shoulders. In truth, I wasn’t sure what I would do when Dottie returned. I couldn’t fire an old woman in good conscience, but Avery has streamlined our operation, saving time and money. I don’t want to lose her. There simply wasn’t enough work to justify both women’s employment. “Good. You deserve to enjoy life.” I reach for the mail and snag the plain envelope on top. Odd, it only has my name scrawled on it.

“Avery has settled in there at Hope Peak. I know she’ll do well for you…”

I stop listening when I open the single folded page within.

Dear Mr. Sullivan,

This letter is to inform you of my resignation as of…

I hang up on Dottie and march back out to the front office to demand an explanation from Avery. How can she resign without even telling me? Was she going to just leave?

“Avery, what the fuck—?”

I’m greeted by the sight of my assistant under her desk, delectable ass in the air, muttering to herself. Her skirt is hiked up, showing the back of her creamy thighs. My thoughts completely derail.

“Miss Blackwood,” I choke out. My cock swells almost painfully, pressing against my fly.

Startled, she bumps her head on the underside of the desk. “Ow.” She backs out from the awkward space, and it's all I can do not to stare at that ass.

She’s twenty-three, asshole. Twenty. Three. Way too young for you.

My body doesn’t give a damn, even though I’m almost forty. I am definitely going to hell.

Avery climbs to her feet and waves a business card in the air. “Got it! Mr. Lane's card fell behind the desk.” Her smile is blinding, like digging under her desk made her happy. Meanwhile, her blouse has slipped off one shoulder and strands of blue and raven hair have fallen out of the little buns to brush her delicate collarbone.

My breath saws in and out of my lungs, my heart thundering in my ears. I reach for her, ready to drag her against my body and claim those plump lips as mine. In my hand, I see her resignation letter, and my brain blessedly comes back online before I do something we’ll both regret.

Lust flips to anger in my blood and something shifts inside me. She thinks she’s leaving me? Not just no, but fuck no. My hot little assistant isn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever. She’s mine. “Care to explain this, Miss Blackwood?”

Chapter Three

Avery

This was not howmy resignation was supposed to go. I didn't realize it before, but being laid off from my last job was far easier than dealing with a livid employer and my calculating grandmother. Because I don't believe for one hot minute that she didn't have this planned. Grandma likes her sleep too much. There's no way she would be up at four in the morning—especiallywhile on a cruise in Japan—to call us unless she wanted to. Even if she suddenly decided to retire, why not wait for a more reasonable hour to tell us? No, she's up to something. In the meantime, I'm stuck with a shocked boss.

Holding my hands up in a soothing gesture, I approach him slowly. His nostrils are flaring with every breath, and my resignation letter shakes in his hand. “I didn't know she was planning that. I'll find someone else before I leave. Don't worry.Someone quiet, but who can still get your coffee right in the morning.”

“You're not leaving,” Spencer says—no, hegrowlsat me.

“I’m starting a new job in two weeks, but I promise you will have another secretary before I leave.”

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