Page 1 of Boss Me

1

BEN

Trouble came in the shape of a pair of broad shoulders.

Even hunched forward, bracketing his drooping head, they were wide and muscled, his biceps barely contained in a paper-thin vintage Rolling Stones T-shirt tucked at his narrow waist into a pair of jeans. His ridiculous Austin, Texas, belt buckle was as big as my hand.

When I hung out with the other admins at coffee breaks, they swooned over Jackson Jones’s rakish good looks and flirtatious personality.

Not me. I left that for my boss.

Wait, sorry, did I say that? Regardless, I knew Jackson Jones was trouble.

He scuffed to my desk and turned a pair of bloodshot eyes on me. “He in?”

God, I wished he wasn’t. Or that I could lie and save my boss from whatever fresh hell Jackson was about to drag him into.

“Something I can help you with?” I stood and smoothed down my navy merino wool sweater. I wasn’t a tall man, but standing, I didn’t have to crane my neck up at Jackson.

He chuckled. “Not unless you’ve got a miracle cure for whatever baby bug took down my kid, my wife, and the nanny.”

“Sorry, I’m fresh out—oh. You’re supposed to go to Boston today.”

“Yeah. About that…”

I winced. My boss had just gotten back from a trip to Asia the week before. He hadn’t had time to recover from the jet lag. And Jackson was about to ask him to get back on a plane to fly across the country and screw up his body clock again.

But Jackson thought Cooper Fallon was Superman, that he could do it all—his own job as the Chief Operating Officer and Jackson’s job, too.

It didn’t help that Cooper did nothing to dispel that notion. When Jackson asked him to jump, he asked how high. According to the executive assistant who supported Synergy’s board, who’d been there almost since the beginning, it had been their dynamic since they’d founded the company over a dozen years before. They were partners, but it was nothing like 50-50. More like 80-20. And Cooper always ended up on the wrong end of that ratio.

“So can I go in?”

I hadn’t realized I’d moved in front of the glass door to Cooper’s office, blocking his partner from entry. I wished I could tell him no to protect Cooper from Jackson and from his own overcommitment, but Cooper didn’t want to be protected from Jackson.

Even though he needed it.

Deliberately, I lowered my shoulders from where they’d crept up by my ears. I turned and rapped on the door before I pushed it open and stuck my head into the opening. “Mr. Fallon?”

When he turned from his monitor, the blue light lit his face, turning his normally golden tan skin greenish pale. His eyes were red, too. Not as bad as Jackson’s, but I could tell he’d spent too much time staring at spreadsheets. He lifted a hand to the juncture of his neck and shoulder and kneaded the muscle there. I wished I could do that for him, but that would’ve violated our unspoken no-touching rule.

“Ben, how many times have I asked you to call me Cooper?”

I let one side of my mouth curl up. “About once a day since I started working here six months ago, Mr. Fallon.”

“So approximately one hundred twenty times. And how many more times do I need to tell you before you listen?”

The snap in his tone might have scared someone else. Cooper Fallon was famous for his relentless drive and his quick temper. I knew he’d never follow up that bark with a proper bite. Maybe with an executive like Jackson, but not for someone at my level. I’d watched him, probably more than was healthy, and I knew from many hours of careful observation that even though his tone was sharp, he usually kept a leash on the fury that flashed in his blue eyes.

“Oh, I listen,” I said.

Behind me, Jackson cleared his throat, and the smile melted off my face. “Jackson is here to see you. Do you have a minute?” Please say no.

He ran a hand through his sunkissed hair and stood, his six-foot-four frame unfolding with athletic elegance. “Send him in.”

I held in a sigh and pressed the door all the way open, stepping into the office, and said more formally than I needed to, “He can see you now.”

Jackson shuffled past me. “Hey, Coop.”

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