Page 13 of Like a Boss

I nod, grateful to be sitting, as I don’t trust my legs.

I nervously watch as he unbuttons his suit jacket before taking a seat. He looks commanding behind his huge desk, and I can’t help but remember just how commanding he can be. My cheeks instantly flush, and I lower my eyes before he reads my thoughts.

So how does one do this? How do we address the big, fat, sweaty elephant in the room?

We don’t. “Your credentials are very impressive, Ms. Young. I have no doubt you’ll be able to keep up with my needs.”

I lick my lower lip nervously before finally looking up at him. I see he is perusing over my resume, avoiding eye contact. “Thank you, Mr. Fox,” I reply, feeling beyond weird calling him by his name. “I’ll try my best.”

He lifts those intense eyes, his gaze lingering on my mouth. “I have no doubt that you will.”

I press my thighs together. This is too much.

“You’ll need this,” he says after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Opening his drawer, he produces a cell phone. He slides it along his desk, and I reach for it, careful not to make contact with his fingers.

“This is so I can reach you day or night. I expect you to be available to me twenty-four seven,” he firmly explains.

I refrain from saying, ‘Yes, sir,’ accompanied with a salute. I instead nod. “Of course. I’ll ensure I have it on me always.”

He steeples his long fingers in front of him. “Very good.” And then… there is silence once again.

I still can’t believe he’s not going to acknowledge our encounter. His detachment ticks me off because how can he be so calm while I’m burning up inside?

Those acute eyes make me once again feel like I’m naked, and I anxiously tug at the pearls around my neck. Mr. Fox watches the movement, shifting subtly in his seat.

I don’t know how I’m going to do this because right now, all I can focus on is how he feasted on my body like a starved man. My cheeks redden, giving away my thoughts. “Will that be all, Mr. Fox?” I ask, unable to sit here a second longer.

“For now, Ms. Young.” His brief response irritates me further.

But I stand quickly, giving him a brisk nod. “Where would you like me to start?”

He swivels in his chair and begins typing on his laptop. “You can start by getting me a coffee. Black. No sugar.”

I glare daggers at him. It’s one thing to not acknowledge who I am. But it’s another to treat me like a slave. Goes without saying, I see red.

“I’m not getting any younger,” he mocks, his head buried in his computer, not even showing me the respect of looking at me.

That pompous… dick.

I grind down on my jawbone. “Right away,sir,” I sarcastically quip, hoping to get a rise out of him.

I’m greeted with silence.

“I got your SOS text,” Hannah says as I’m frantically pacing the bathroom, biting my nails. “Please stop moving. You’re making me seasick. What’s going on, Baylee?”

But I can’t stop moving because the moment I do, the seriousness of my current situation will sink in and I’ll be sick. “I’ve done a bad, bad thing, Han. Like really bad.”

Hannah looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “That’s impossible. You’ve been here for”—she looks at her watch—“five minutes.”

“I… shit!” I curse, running a trembling hand down my face.

“C’mon, just tell me. It can’t be that bad,” she states, hand on hip as she watches me continue to pace.

I spin around, spreading my hands out wide. “It’s worse than bad. It’s a disaster.”

She waits for me to elaborate.

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