If I were an employee less confident in my work, I’d already be packing my things in a box based on his murderous look.
But instead of tearing into me, he slams a Starbucks cup down on my desk. Well, as much as one can slam a paper cup.
The phone is ringing, so I quickly answer it while holding Blackthroat’s gaze. “Mr. Blackthroat’s office, please hold.” I press the hold button and drop the receiver into the cradle.
“Good morning, sir.” I go with smooth and professional.
Not, I-just-fucked-the-boss-this-weekend.
He glowers at me but seems short on words. Instead, he picks up the coffee cup and moves it closer to me.
I stare up at him with shock. Did he actually buy me a coffee? I rotate the cup to read the label. It’s a vanilla latte. The Big Bad Boss brought me coffee. Color me…shocked?
“I have to smell it every day,” he says dryly, like my coffee choice offends him.
I had a game plan today-to play it professional. I was prepared for him to either do the same or to act overly-familiar, at which point I would initiate a conversation about us returning to boss-employee relations.
What I didn’t plan on was this…weird
…behavior.
“You’re staying.” He practically snarls it. Like we were having an argument, and this is his rebuttal.
I pick up the coffee. “You bought me a coffee to make sure I don’t quit?” As far as gestures go, it’s pretty meager, and I let that opinion leak into my tone.
“No.” He looks grim. This is definitely his you’re-getting-fired face.
Nothing makes sense this morning.
He looks down at the coffee like he has absolutely no idea how it got there. “The coffee is…” -he gives an impatient jerk of his head- “I don’t know what the coffee is for, but you’re staying. I need you-as my assistant. Understood?”
Why do I feel like I’m getting spanked by the boss instead of praised? I pride myself on reading my employer, but this morning, I’m at a complete loss.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I pick up the coffee and take a sip, holding his dark gaze. “Sir.”
Blackthroat makes a low growling sound in his throat, turns on his heel, and heads into his office without further comment.
“Thanks for the coffee, Big Bad,” I snark under my breath.
I swear I hear him say “You’re welcome” from the other side of the door, but that would be impossible because there’s no way he could hear me from in there.
I pick up the phone. “Thank you for holding, how may I help you?”
“Oh Madi, good. I’m glad you’re there. It’s Ruby Blackthroat.”
“Oh, hi! Sorry to keep you holding. Br-er, Mr. Blackthroat-just walked in.”
“I’m actually calling for you.” Ruby’s voice is warm, like we’re friends now. Like I’m not just the help anymore. “I wanted to make sure you were okay after nearly going into hypothermia on Thanksgiving.”
Well, that’s nice. At least someone in the Blackthroat family acts like a normal human being.
“I am. I’m fine, thank you. And it was great to get home in time to have pie with my family that night. Sorry I didn’t say a proper goodbye. I was sort of hustled out when there was a break in the weather.”
“Oh, I know. No need to apologize.”
“Thank you for everything-lending me your clothes, and-“
“Of course, of course,” she cuts in. “I just wanted to say…well, I’m glad Brick has you-I mean someone like you. He runs through assistants faster than I use up Post-it Notes, and I’m the queen of Post-its, so it’s nice that he can rely on you.”
Okay, now she’s acting weird, too.
Am I getting fired today? What was said about me after I left?
“Oh…yes. Thanks.”
“
All right. Sorry. I don’t mean to make it awkward. I was just checking to make sure you didn’t actually quit after everything that happened in the Berkshires. So… glad to hear you’re still there, and that’s all, really.”
This day is getting stranger by the moment. “Did you want to speak to Brick?”
“Yes, but I’ll call his cell later. Have a great day, Madi.”
“Thanks, Ruby, you, too.”
The moment I end the call, Blackthroat’s voice comes through on the intercom. “Madison, I need you to call a meeting-” The intercom cuts out, like he took his finger off the button. I lean forward to peer through the window to his office and see him stab the button back down. “Come to my office, Madison.”
Again, he has that pissed-as-hell tone, like I’ve really screwed up, but I can’t fathom what it’s about. But if I learned one thing over Thanksgiving, it’s that he sometimes lashes out because he cares. Like his anger over me taking a helicopter in bad weather. And his strained relationship with his mother.
“Of course, sir.” I get up from my desk and remember what Aubrey said. Just because I decided I won’t have sex with him again doesn’t mean I can’t torture the guy. I put a little extra swing in my step as I sashay into his office. I’m in a forest green sweater with a criss-cross collar and an opening that frames my decolletage. I wore knee-high boots beneath my pencil skirt. Every day I get better at walking in heels. I stop inside the door and lean my hip against the wall.
“Yes, sir?”
He casts me a dark look, his gaze sweeping up and down my outfit, lingering on the boots, and then on the window to my breasts.
He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Odd for a man who usually cuts right to the point. “Bring me one of those waters,” he commands.
I would swear he just came up with that on the spot. Like he wasn’t sure why he called me into his office and then made up a reason.
Could it be my boss is as conflicted about what happened between us over the weekend as I am?
“Of course,” I say smoothly, pushing off the wall and gliding-as well as I can glide in heels-to the kitchen refrigerator to fetch him the fancy water in a glass bottle that he likes.
When I return, I set it on his desk without opening it. Lord knows, I remember what happened last time when I tried to unscrew it while walking in heels.
Brick draws in a long breath as I stand beside him, his nostrils flaring.
“Anything else?” I breeze, my voice holding the same notes of pleasant attentiveness it held on the day he hired me. As if nothing at all has changed what we are to each other.
The pen between Brick’s fingers snaps. Literally snaps. I don’t know how that’s even possible without using both hands.
It wasn’t some plastic Bic pen either. It was one of those sleek metal pens that cost one hundred and twenty-eight dollars. I know because I order them for him.
“Open it,” he commands, his voice deep and gruff.
What the hell? Is he just getting off on bossing me around right now? If we were still playing our games, I would be up for it, but I’m too raw from Thanksgiving. From getting close to him, seeing the personal side of him-his family, his wounds-and then getting hustled out the back entrance like the servant that I am. Not hearing a word from him for the rest of the weekend.
I normally pride myself on keeping it together, keeping a facade up when I’m supposed to be professional, but I finally break. After smoothing my walls up all weekend, he just cracked one down again.
“Are you trying to get me to quit again?” I snap.
“No!” The word explodes out of him, almost as if he’s alarmed.
He snatches my wrist, tugging me closer before releasing it again, as if I scalded him. “No,” he repeats. He clears his throat. “Never mind.” His tone is back to professional. “You can go.”
Oh no. I can’t go. Not without actually addressing what’s between us. This is too weird.
“Listen, about this weekend??”
Brick’s gaze snaps to my face, and I definitely see conflict in his stormy eyes.
“Things are getting too… confusing. Or…complicated. I think we should just keep it professional from here on out.”
“Right.” He looks like he bit into a rotten plum. “I had, uh, concluded the same thing.”
I hold my head a little higher. “Good.” I point at the water bottle. “So open your own water from now on. We wouldn’t want me to reenact my soak and grope from my first week.”
Brick chokes on a mirthless laugh. “Maybe that’s what I was hoping for.” Suddenly he’s real again. His shoulders relax, and some of the storm leaves his face. “You got me.”
Okay. Cool. I guess he was as conflicted as I was, and I just straightened things out. I toss him a knowing smile as I turn and strut out.
We can do this. We can totally keep things professional.
I feel back on solid ground. Brick just handed me the power by acknowledging he’s still attracted to me. Aubrey was right. I can keep up the torture. I have the upper hand here.
I’m not going to lose my head or my heart to my billionaire boss.
Score another one for the assistant.
Billy
I study my alpha during the executive meeting Tuesday.
Brick is in a particular rage today, and I suspect it has everything to do with the fact that he hasn’t gotten rid of that uppity human secretary of his.
He’s waited too long to find a mate, and now his wolf is hungry for any female-even a human. It’s dangerous for an alpha wolf not to mate. A wolf that strong will go nuts without a female if he hasn’t mated by mid-life.
He said he would get rid of her, but she’s still here.
It makes me want to howl.
We’re tossing the racquetball around the room high-speed while we talk-something we started back at Yale as a way to keep our wolves from getting restless when we had to study for finals. We hurl the ball at each other without a pattern, testing our reflexes, trying to get someone to miss.
No one ever does. This is good because at the velocity we throw, we could break a window or put a hole in a wall with it.
I want to study the secretary, but every time I look her way, Brick beans the ball in the direction of my face.
I never thought I’d see my Alpha take his eyes off the prize, distracted by a human no less. His interest in her puts our entire pack in danger.
I never trusted her. She came in here doing and saying everything right.
Red fucking flag.
No one can please Brick. He’s a hardass who never stops demanding from his employees and never stops working himself, except to let his wolf off-leash on the weekends to keep from going moon mad. That’s what made Moon Co explode into a net worth of eighty-nine billion in the matter of seven years.
She doesn’t get ruffled, even when he’s particularly dickish. She seems to anticipate exactly what he needs, and she never says anything wrong.
She’s too good. Underneath her placid expression, I can sense her mind whirring at high speed, working on multiple fronts at once. My instincts say she has more than one agenda. She has her sights on Brick. Or she’s a spy sent from Adalwulf.
I intend to find out.
The ball whizzes around, faster than we’ve ever volleyed it before, and I finally figure out what has Brick on edge. The secretary leans forward, both her elbows on the table with her forearms pushing her cleavage up, which might not be a big deal, except she’s wearing one of those dresses with a cutout over her cleavage, making a perfect window to the curve of her breasts.
I actually hear a snarl from Brick, and he hurls the ball at Nickel without looking away from the secretary’s chest.
He’s acting protective. Out of control.
Like a wolf in rut.
I bet the little minx loves it.
Nickel hurls the ball at Vance who sends it to me, but the secretary picks that moment to lean forward, probably to give Brick an even better view.
She probably can’t even see the ball flying at her head fast enough to give her a black eye, and it’s too late-
Except Noah, our spreadsheet guy, heroically throws himself out of his chair to catch the ball just before it smashes into her.
Everyone’s looking at the secretary and Noah, but I’m watching Brick. A mixture of relief and anger alternately flicker over his expression.
He settles on anger. “What in the hell were you doing?” he demands of Vance, his eyes flashing amber. His wolf is close to the surface. I’ve never seen him so out of control.
Vance throws his hands up in the air. “Sorry, Madison. I didn’t know you were coming in.”
Brick turns to Noah and says grimly, “Thank you for saving my assistant from a goddamn concussion.”
Noah nods and says something odd- “Always.” Not no problem or you’re welcome. Not even of course. He says it like a vow, like his job is to protect his alpha’s female, and that’s when I realize something else.
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