Hate Notes: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy, page 7
Then, with a sharp breath, I pulled back, reality crashing down like a tidal wave.
“We can’t,” I said, my voice firm.
Her brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“Because I’m your boss now,” I said, stepping back. “And I don’t kiss employees.”
“Who says I accept your job offer?” She asked. The way she was already breathless after only a few moments of kissing made me want to cup her face and kiss her again. It made me want more. I wanted all of her, and I knew I couldn’t go down that rabbit hole if I wanted to keep focused on what was most important.
“I’m offering you a great position, and you would be a fool to refuse it. You’ll work under Moira in client relations. You can use the skills you demonstrated tonight to help us secure contracts. In fact, we have the perfect opportunity for you—one that could land Foster Real Estate the biggest contract in our eight-year history. One that could firmly put us at the head of the real estate companies in all of Manhattan.”
There was a spark of something in her eyes. Desire? Opportunity? Fear? I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she swallowed her words, stepping back and extending her hand toward me.
“I accept,” she said.
For the briefest moment, I felt a pang of regret. A man with less control might have let things play out tonight and then offered her the job. A wiser man wouldn’t have offered her the job at all, considering the way her mere presence seemed to wake all my long suppressed emotions.
I took her hand, mine swallowing hers up like a child’s as I gripped it and shook. “Welcome to Foster Real Estate, Ember. And… this never happened. It can never happen again, either.”
“What can never happen again?” she asked. If it wasn’t for the flush in her cheeks and the sheen of moisture still on her lips, I could’ve almost believed the kiss never happened.
I nodded. “Good girl.” I caught myself as she smiled wickedly.
“Ohh.. Good girl, huh?” she asked, taking one corner of her lower lip under her front teeth. “I could get used to hearing you call me that.”
I cleared my throat and adjusted my jacket. “We should get back inside. Separately,” I added.
Ember wiggled her eyes. “Okay. Do you prefer if I say ‘yes, sir’ when you give me a direct order? Or… would you prefer ‘yes, daddy’ to go with the whole ‘good girl’ thing?”
I opened my mouth to speak, closed it, and then gestured inside. “The less you speak to me, the better.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I raised a hand to stop her. “Yes, Sir,” I corrected.
Ember shrugged. “Okay. By the way, you have a little…” she reached up and ran her thumb down the corner of my mouth. “I think I may have accidentally licked your cheek a bit when we didn’t kiss. Sorry.”
What the hell had I gotten myself into with this woman?
11
EMBER
"Let me get this straight," Kora said, stabbing her straw into her iced coffee with unnecessary violence as I walked with her toward the Northman Group building for the first time in weeks. "You kissed him. The guy you've been reading hate notes to every day. The guy who makes his employees cry. That guy?"
I winced and glanced around while we waited for the crosswalk signal to change. A few heads turned at her volume, and I gave them my best "nothing to see here" smile before leaning in. "Do you have to say it like that?"
"Am I wrong?" she asked, her eyebrow arching. Her dark curls bounced as she tilted her head, studying me with the kind of intensity that made me wish I'd kept my mouth shut.
"No," I muttered. "But you don't have to say it so... loudly."
Kora smirked and took a leisurely sip of her coffee. "Girl, you've got to explain this to me. What, did the tension just get to you? Did you endure one too many of those smoldering glares and your brain finally short-circuited? Or are you just so horny you've moved past reason and entered the 'fuck around and find out' phase?"
I groaned, shoulders slumping as we joined the crowd crossing the street. "It's not like that. It just happened. One second, we're arguing about his clients, and the next... I don't know. He kissed me. And I kissed him back. He looked at me, and without either of us needing to say a word, it was like we both just knew we wanted it. I've never felt that kind of connection with someone before. It was... intense."
"Oh, it was intense," Kora repeated, her voice dripping with exaggerated drama. "And then what? Did the heavens part? Did the jazz music stop? Did everyone in the room turn to watch you two make out on the balcony?"
I snorted despite myself. "No. It wasn't like that. It was private, just the two of us." I studied my feet, feeling embarrassed but still wanting to voice the truth anyway. "It was kind of magical." I looked at Kora, biting my lip. "I had a really dirty dream about him last night, too."
"Oh," Kora said, raising both eyebrows now. "So wait... How does this all compute? Cole asked you to infiltrate this guy's company and get dirt on him. Did you misunderstand and think he asked you to infiltrate Orion Foster's pants? Honest mistake. I'm sure Cole will understand."
I laughed. "All we did was kiss. Briefly. And we're good now. He saw how much of a charmer I am and offered me a job at Foster Real Estate. I'm going to be on his 'client relations' team. And I'm going to be heavily involved in some mysterious project that sounded absolutely huge."
Kora squinted. "He offered you a job? Seriously? How good was that kiss?"
"Yep. And he's putting me straight on a project that sounds exactly like the kind of thing Cole wanted dirt on. If I occasionally give Cole a crumb or two, I bet I could drag this out for a long time."
"Okay, wait, wait," Kora said, holding up both hands and making us stop outside a shoe store a block from the office. "Did you start working him before or after the kiss?"
"During?" I said.
Kora blinked.
"He kind of broke the kiss off by offering me a job."
"I can't decide if that means he hated it or loved it."
"He said he couldn't kiss me anymore because he was my boss. I kind of think he was using it as an excuse so things wouldn't... go further."
"If it was up to you, would things have gone further?"
"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "He's easy on the eyes. Interesting. Competent. And—"
"The devil's spawn," Kora cut in. "Satan in a suit. Puppy kicker. Probably a member of a cult..."
"I don't know," I said again. "I get this feeling there's more to him."
"That's exactly what I'm saying!" Kora said. "His cult. That's the 'more' you're sensing. He's going to sacrifice you on an altar of pure ruby and rub your blood all over his naked body. Actually... that sounds kind of hot. Maybe you should give this a chance and keep me posted. With pictures."
I laughed. "You know what I mean. I just don't believe anybody can actually be that mean and cold all the time. It makes me want to know what his deal is. Why isn't he happier? Who hurt him? You know?"
"Oh, girl," Kora said sadly. "Why are you always like this? I love you, but you are the queen of lost puppies. You know that, right?"
"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean."
"It means you think every lost puppy deserves a chance. Even the mean ones who bite people and smell bad. You see somebody perfect, and you think there must be some hidden problem that'll surface over time, like my cousin. So, instead, you go for the obviously flawed guys because you think you can fix what you can see. But, girl, if they're walking around with flaws on display, they're already too far gone. When will you learn?"
I sighed.
"See?" she said. "That was a sigh of acceptance because you know I'm right, and you're still going to do it."
"Nope! Wrong. He broke things off before they started. He said the kiss never happened, and I agreed. I'm Ember Hartwell, the newest employee of Foster Real Estate and nothing else."
"And yet you're coming with me toward Northman Group to report to Cole. Weird."
I gave an irritated jerk of my head to get us walking again. "Briefly," I said. "Cole needs to know I'm making progress so he keeps paying my salary. I need the money, and I'm going to do whatever I can to keep both men paying me as long as possible."
"What about your hate notes job? Any chance you can keep collecting that paycheck?"
"No chance. Orion's bribery attempts have any employee serving him on super close watch. The moment I don't show this morning, I’m sure I’ll get a call from Patricia Rosh letting me know I’m fired. But it’s fine. Those pants gave me wedgies."
“What if you convinced Orion to let you keep reading him the notes? Make it part of your sales pitch. You could keep three salaries.”
I grinned. “As tempting as that is, I know he won’t go for it. Imagine the questions it would raise if my co-workers saw me reading hate notes to the boss every morning before I reported to my desk.”
“Yeah,” Kora said. “Good point.”
We walked quietly for a little ways before Kora gave me an odd look. "Okay, so I'm gathering that you're already planning something stupid like falling for this Orion Foster guy. The fact that he tried to break things off with you probably just made it a hundred times more likely, given that you are the way you are."
"Hey!" I said, giving her a whack with my bag.
"And," she continued. "I'm just wondering if you're ready to risk screwing up your new infatuation's project for the sake of your petty revenge."
"Excuse me?" I said, deeply offended. "This is not petty revenge. This is justice. It's divine retribution. It's as far from petty as it can get."
Kora rolled her eyes, eyes twinkling. "I know. I just wanted to watch you get all worked up. Cole deserves to dip his dong in piranha-infested waters. But seriously, what happens if you have to choose between risking a Foster Real Estate project to keep Cole off your case?"
I frowned. "You keep assuming I'm head-over-heels for Orion. I'm not. I'm only curious, and by all accounts, he's a terrible boss. I may decide that sabotaging his project and collecting a paycheck from Cole as long as possible are both noble goals. So... yeah."
Kora didn't look convinced, but she nodded. "Well, I'm going to lurk near Cole's office and eavesdrop when you tell him all of this."
"All of this?" I said, grinning. "He's getting crumbs, and he's going to like it. All Cole needs to know is that I've been hired and will work toward getting into a position of importance. No need to tell him I'm already on the team, right?"
"Ahh," Kora tapped her temple, nodding. "Smart. I like that. It’ll buy you some time while he thinks you’re trying to get promoted or whatever."
Yeah, I thought. Smart. I hoped that word accurately described the mess I was currently wading neck-deep into.
When I got home that night, Catman was waiting for me on my bed, watching as I held up different outfits for my first day at Foster Real Estate.
"Too slutty?" I asked, holding up a pencil skirt.
His one eye seemed to say "you're fooling nobody."
"You're right," I sighed, tossing the skirt aside. "I should probably go with something more professional. Something that says 'I definitely didn't make out with the boss last night.'"
Catman's judgmental stare intensified.
"Don't look at me like that," I told him. "I know what I'm doing."
His expression clearly disagreed, but I ignored him. After all, what did he know? He was just a cat.
A very old, possibly immortal cat who had probably seen countless human mistakes over his centuries of existence... but still just a cat.
I was totally in control of this situation.
Totally.
12
EMBER
Iwalked into the Foster Real Estate building for the first time as an employee, and I felt like I might hurl.
It wasn't until I was already inside that I realized how damn nervous I was about everything—from my outfit choice to whether this was all one huge mistake. Sure, petty but divinely justified revenge on your ex sounds all well and good in theory, but now?
I was actually doing this. I was taking a job for Orion Foster under false pretenses, hiding the fact that I was working for Cole Northman, one of his biggest rivals, and it all suddenly felt way too real.
I took a couple deep breaths, decided not to hurl—I was on a budget, after all, and throwing up would mean completely wasting my delicious breakfast.
After much debate with Catman, I eventually decided on a simple pencil skirt, flowy white blouse, pearl necklace, and heels that pinched my toes but made my calves look amazing. I was aiming for "average employee" but worried I may have landed closer to “girl who is trying too hard on her first day.”
I hated starting new jobs and not knowing what the hell I was supposed to wear.
The girl at reception gave me a long, suspicious look once I gave her my name and said I was a new hire. Eventually, she tapped away at her keyboard to make my badge, briefly lifting her eyes to me. "Do I recognize you from somewhere?"
"Uhh, nope," I said, trying for my most innocent smile. With my hair pulled back in a very professional ponytail and this outfit, I hoped none of them would connect me to the "hate notes girl" who'd harassed their boss for weeks. But if anyone was going to recognize me, it was probably a woman who worked on the first floor where I had made a spectacle almost every morning for weeks. "I guess I just have one of those faces."
"Hmm," she said, clearly unconvinced.
After getting my badge and directions to the 31st floor, I caught snippets of conversation in the elevator that made me feel like I'd somehow time-traveled back to high school.
"Another one of Moira's girls..."
"Wonder how long this one will last."
I stood a little straighter and shot the gossiping pair my best "I can hear you" glare. They at least had the decency to look embarrassed, shuffling closer to their corner of the elevator.
"Hi," I said, sticking out my hand. "I'm Ember Hartwell. I'll be working with Moira in client relations."
One of the women looked at my hand like it might bite her.
Okay, maybe it was a little sweaty. Sue me for being nervous.
"Good luck," she said with a grimace that suggested I'd need it.
They got off on the 25th floor, and I heard them burst into giggles as soon as they thought they were out of earshot.
Great. Making first impressions already. Quality didn't matter, right?
The elevator opened to the 31st floor, revealing the familiar office space I'd seen Mr. Foster disappear into every morning. The main area was open concept with private offices around the edges, and people moved around like extremely serious bees, all apparently too busy and important to make eye contact.
I was still taking it in when I heard the click-click-click of approaching heels.
A woman wearing a tight black dress, black eyeliner, black eyeshadow, and lipstick so dark it was almost purple came toward me.
Vampire.
The thought was ridiculous, but I would have challenged anyone to look at her and not immediately think the same thing.
She stopped in front of me, towering at least six inches over me in her heels as she examined my badge. "Ember Hartwell," she said in a deep, husky voice. "I'm Moira. Come with me."
Moira either didn't see or didn't care about my extended hand before she turned and led me deeper into the office. More whispers followed us as we passed people at their computers, by the printers, and clustered around the coffee machine with stacks of papers under their arms.
I responded to each bit of gossip with my brightest smile, determined to make them feel at least a little guilty about their middle-school behavior. I kept my spine straight and shoulders back, but I had to admit the general aura of judgment was already starting to wear on me.
Moira led me through a narrow hallway, around a corner, and then to what I'm pretty sure used to be a janitor's closet. Actually... there was still a puddle of water on the concrete floor beneath my torn rolling chair.
Moira gestured to the desk. "This is your workstation."
"Oh," I said, aiming for cheerful. "It's nice and private. Nobody will bother me back here. Or hear me scream..."
"What was that?" Moira asked.
"Nothing!" I chirped, determined not to cause problems on day one. Who cared if I was working out of a janitor's closet? Who cared if everybody had apparently decided to either hate me or write me off as dead before lunch?
"Mr. Foster... insisted that I put you here," Moira said with the first hint of humanity in her tone. "I know it's unorthodox, but it's best not to question him. You'll either learn that fast or you'll be fired. That's just the way it is around here. So... make the best of it."
"Okay," I said. "So what does a member of your client relations team do around here, anyway?"
Moira actually softened a little once she began explaining my tasks and duties. Maybe my eager disposition helped her see I wasn't going to be a pain in her ass, or maybe the general aura of oppression in this place just had her in its clutches before.
From the sounds of it, I would start small for the first few days—mostly sending practice replies to clients based on a reference manual Moira would supply me. I'd look up their questions or concerns, research it in the reference book, and do my best to personalize the response. Someone would review my work before it was allowed to be sent out until they were sure I could be trusted with the task. Once I had that down, my responsibilities would gradually increase.
Simple enough.
"And, um," Moira said after explaining how to get signed in and access the email. "We take lunch around noon. It's best if you bring your lunch to your desk, though. Mr. Foster doesn't like it when employees leave for lunch or take too long to eat. You may need to order delivery if you didn't bring something."
"He expects people to just... stay here all day? Really?"
Moira looked slightly uncomfortable. "There are easy ways to get in his good graces. We've all found taking the easy wins when we can get them to be the wisest approach. There's... more, but I don't want to overwhelm you."
