Page 4 of The Powerful Boss She Craves

His sister was getting married in two months and, a couple of days ago, some swamp rat had called the hotel hosting the wedding, somehow convinced everyone working there that he was representing Thadie’s wedding planner and had cancelled the wedding reception. The organisation, believing the fake calls and emails, had immediately rebooked the space and now Thadie, Clyde and their thousand guests had nowhere to celebrate their union.

Thadie and her very expensive and famous wedding planner, Anna de Palmer-Whyte, had spent the past two days frantically calling round to find another venue but had yet to find anything suitable in and around the city. Seeing their rising panic, Micah had offered his assistance and to co-opt one of the event planners they employed to work with him to find a venue outside of the city. Yeah, he had deals pending and an overflowing inbox, but Thadie could ask him to pluck the moon from the sky and he’d find a way to do it. Thadie, her twin toddler boys and his own twin, Jago, were the most important people in his life, and he’d do anything for them. And apparently ‘anything’ included finding a five-star wedding venue.

Micah headed back to the entrance, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. Over the years he’d paid little attention to this business, one of many that was part of the empire he and Jago controlled. The place turned over a decent profit and it was handy to have a group of professionals on call to organise company events, which they did with efficiency and aplomb. He could’ve summoned the manager to his penthouse office in Sandton, but a personal visit would impress the urgency of the situation.

Hopefully, someone within the building would be able to find him that elusive, and exclusive, venue. Pulling open the front door, he glanced up to the second floor and felt a moment’s regret at not seeing the gorgeous brunette again.

But he couldn’t afford the time to be distracted.

CHAPTER TWO

BENWINTERSDIDN’Thave any event planners he could spare.

Micah sat across from his manager in his messy office—the guy needed to do some filing—and listened to him explain that his planners were all juggling two, three, sometimes even five projects in various stages. He couldn’t spare anyone to research possible venues outside of the city and then travel to see whether they were suitable.

‘The best I can do is to ask my planners whether they have any ideas, any contacts. Of course, it would help if I knew what type of function you are wanting to host...’ Ben suggested.

He was fishing for information—obviously curious as to what could be so important and imminent to demand his involvement—but Micah rarely explained his actions. And it was a family rule that they never discussed personal matters with anyone who didn’t share their DNA.

The sole exception to that rule was Jabu, their long-term butler, confidant, father figure and friend.

‘Capacity to hold a thousand guests, sophisticated, upmarket. Ample accommodation in the area. Money is not an object,’ Micah stated. He saw Ben scrunch up his face and shrug his shoulders, and realised that he’d wasted his morning visiting Le Roux Events. If Winters reflected the people he employed, then he’d receive no help from them. He needed someone to think creatively, to be innovative, and he didn’t think he’d find that someone here.

Micah stood up. ‘Thanks for your time,’ he said, holding out his hand.

‘I’ll walk you out,’ Ben said and mouthed a curse when his phone rang. He picked it up and looked at the screen and it was obvious to Micah that he wanted to take the call. He told Ben he’d see himself out.

Leaving his office, Micah ignored the flirty smile the receptionist sent him and pushed his hand through his hair. He genuinely didn’t know what to do next, an unusual situation for him.

He’d head back to his office and maybe he and Jago could brainstorm some ideas. Two heads were always better than one. Pulling open the door, he stepped outside and felt the slap of the midday, somnolent summer heat. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his messages as he headed back to his car, desperate to climb inside and blast the air-conditioner. The vehicle had cost him a quarter of a million pounds—being an international company they only thought in pounds, not rands—but, right now, all he wanted from it was its ability to blow frigid air at his overheated body.

Micah used the key fob to open his driver door and looked up from his phone to see the brunette from earlier leaning against his door. She wore a sleeveless pale-pink top tucked into a slimline black skirt that hit just above her knees, and killer heels. Some time in the last fifteen minutes she’d rearranged her long hair into a twist pinned to the back of her head with a clip.

Their eyes collided. Micah saw the rolling emotion in hers and sighed. She was great-looking—slim and lovely—but he didn’t have the time to dally, or for a dalliance, right now.

And he was surprised that she was down here, waiting for him. He thought he’d annoyed her, but it wasn’t the first time his surname had changed a woman’s mind about his level of attractiveness. Sad but true.

‘Can I help you?’ he asked, keeping his tone cool.

‘I doubt it,’ she replied, her tone snippy. He looked again and saw that the emotion in her eyes wasn’t desire but annoyance. Maybe even anger.

Right, he’d read her wrong. Which begged the question: what had he done to upset her?

‘I’m Ella Yeung,’ she stated, looking at him as if he should know her name.

He shrugged. ‘Have we met before?’

‘No, but I thought you would’ve read about me somewhere along the line.’

He had no idea what she was talking about. ‘Look, I don’t have time to play guessing games with you, Ms Yeung. If you have something to say, get on with it, because I have things to do and somewhere to be.’

Confusion and frustration ran across her face and Micah watched as she seemed to collapse in on herself. She lifted her clenched fist to her mouth and the last remaining colour in her face faded. ‘You don’t know what happened to me, do you?’

Whatever it was, it was serious. He didn’t know why or how but Micah knew he needed to hear it. He nodded to the entrance. ‘Let’s go inside where it’s cool. I’ll commandeer an office and you can tell me what’s on your mind.’

Ella shook her head. ‘No.’ She crossed her arms and nodded at his driver’s door. ‘We can talk in your car.’

Micah walked her round to the passenger side, opened the door and waited for her to settle in the passenger seat. When he was behind the wheel, he turned the ignition and blasted the air-conditioner. The smell of new leather filled the car and he watched as Ella took in the interior, with its real wood trim and metal accents. She suited the car, he thought—classy and elegant. And, up close, she was sexier than he’d initially realised.

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