Page 4 of The Boss

“Fine. Whatever.” I wave away the files. “Pick for me. I need to finish this column.” I go back to my spreadsheet as if I don’t care about the woman I’m doomed to spend two hours with.

Presley takes her time going through the files, occasionally whistling, chuckling, or bemoaning that she wants a try with a certain young co-ed. We employ five female interns and five male. They come from all over the country, most of them graduated or attending the local business schools.

The one she shoves in my direction? Is the youngest… and still an undergrad.

“Alessa, huh?” I barely note her last name. Her headshot is enough to make me snort. Wavy chestnut hair frames her round face. Beautiful, bold, daring me to ask her up to my corner CEO’s office so I can… spend time with her.

“All right. The one who messes up her figures more than any of the other interns.” That’s the only reason I recognize her at all. She’s one of the few people I’ve personally sought out so I could correct her work. I hate cleaning up sloppy intern jobs. I wouldn’t even allow interns if they weren’t such cheap labor salivating for “experience.” As the woman who works with numbers around here, I love cutting costs and still maintaining efficiency and productivity. Two good things interns are good for… if they’reactuallygood at what they do. “Makes it easier.”

“Now, now, be nice to her. Don’t have to beniceto her, but be nice to her.” Presley puts the files away. With a smirk, she shows herself to my door. “I’ll be back in a bit. Get her here and captivated by the time I get back, and I’ll take care of those pesky meetings for the next two months.” Upping the ante, hm? “When we go down to Rio, we’re getting you an escort for every night of the week.”

“You wish.”

I wait for Presley to leave the office before picking up my phone. This bet is a joke, but she’s right – I do love a challenge.

Now where the hell is Alessa’s number? Did that dumbass put the file away, knowing I’d have to waste time looking for the number? Of course she did. Because Presley will do anything to win a bet.

Chapter 3

Alessa

The bus halts. I bolt out as if bullets spray my steps. One of Portland’s tallest high-rises lurks before me. On a good day, I enjoy taking in the pristine architecture, the marble flooring, the silver-lined mirrors, the state-of-the-art security systems, and the gilded executive elevators.

This is not a good day.

Two security guards are on duty in the lobby. I flash my badge and show them the stack of folders in my hands. One nods and motions for me to take an elevator up. Guess what? It won’t budge. Stuck again, Elevator 2? Wouldn’t be so bad if Elevator 1 went to the top floors.

I glance at my watch as Elevator 2 finally gets its ass moving. Nine-thirty. My boss hadn’t given me an ultimatum, but I knew that tone in her dark and dangerous voice. She wanted these files yesterday. What if I’m preventing her from making a big business deal? What if I’m costing her thousands… no,millions!... of dollars? She’s going to blame me! Then what? I lose my job in the aftermath because she has to punish somebody?

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I’m not going to have a job by midnight, am I?

The lights are off in the executive suite. All but the low-energy ones illuminating the way to Julianna Marcon’s corner office. The one belonging to her partner, Ms. Bradford, is dark. Pretty soon cleaning crews will move through here. Will they work around my boss, or are they dismissed until later? Why the hell do I care about that when I should be worrying about my job?

The fact that the double doors leading into the suite aren’t opening?

I wrestle with the glass door as if my life is about to be snatched from my body. I can’t afford hangups like this!

The door clicks, and I practically fall into the central office. If the secretary had been here, he would have laughed at my dumb, clumsy ass. If he wasn’t trying to glimpse at my undies, anyway. The guy has a terrible reputation around here, although he usually leaves me alone – I’m not as pretty as the other female interns. Positively average compared to them.

Even so, the secretary would have laughed at me. I’m glad Ms. Marcon and I are the only ones here tonight.

Someone pushes aside the blinds shielding the window to her corner office. I stop halfway there. One critical look sideswipes me, startling… scaring…arousingme.

So sue me. I’m human. I’m a sapphic woman looking into the dark eyes of Julianna Marcon, one of the most prime specimens of young executives around. Even at this late hour, she’s wearing her dark navy blue power suit with a black silk camisole beneath. Perfectly cut and tailored. Dare I say bespoke? She’s got the money for it. LA, New York, London, Paris… I hear from her assistant she gets the measurements done right here in her officeand the tailors send her fabric samples. What’s it like to live in that kind of luxury?

Based on the stern face waiting for me on the other side of that glass? It’s terrible. Awful. I should never fantasize about it.

The door opens. Good. Now I don’t have to knock or buzz, because I sure as hell don’t know the keycode to her office. It changes every week, anyway.

“Alessa.” Holy shit. That’s my name, and it’s not happy to greet me. “Come in.”

I had started walking again, but now I come to another standstill. Her hand motions me in. Why am I sweating? Am I short of breath? You’d think I ran up the stairs to get here.

The woman is so muchgranderin person. Her presence alone is enough to fill the entirety of the executive office. If she did things to me over the phone? Getting a whiff of her lily perfume as I approach her has my legs trembling and my heart racing so quickly that I’m afraid I’ll pass out. Would Julianna Marcon give me CPR until the ambulance arrives? Oh my God, is my insurance good enough to afford an ambulance?

“I have the folders.” My eyes never break from hers as I shove the stack forward.

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