Grumpy Boss by Hamel, B. (best chinese ebook reader .TXT) 📕

In some ways, that made a lot of sense, and explained why she seemed so afraid to take the bar. So far in her life, failing had never been an option.

I couldn’t relate to that type of struggle. My problems were different, more abstract, and in a way, they were dwarfed by what she’d been through. I succeeded young, and succeeded wildly beyond anything I ever imagined, and ever since then the pressure to keep performing was a steady drumbeat that marched me through my days. There was no rest: it was work, work, work, make investors money, always improve, always grow. Some days, I imagined walking away from it all.

Fantasy, of course. I liked the life too much. I liked the struggle.

Back in Philadelphia, Millie sat in my office again at my table near the windows, reading through financial statements. I had her hunting for a business we might invest in when the time came, which wasn’t so far away. She was diligent, barely glanced in my direction, but the tension was driving me crazy.

I got up and walked to her. I hovered above her until she looked up, a little annoyed.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

I pulled up a chair and sat right next to her. “That’s not how you talk to your boss.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s up, Rees?”

“You’ve been quiet lately,” I said. “Ever since we left L.A., you’ve been a little distant.”

She glanced away, and I knew it in that look—something had happened out there, and I didn’t know what.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Things are going okay, right? Alfie’s money’s good. Byron invested.”

“They’re a start,” I said, “but we’re nowhere near where we need to be. And I’m not talking abut the fund right now.”

“What do you want from me?” she asked, a sudden outburst. I studied her lips, her jaw, the way she wore her hair up, slightly messy, but still somehow professional and put together.

“You tell me,” I said, leaning closer.

“Lady Fluke told me something,” she said, meeting my gaze, and holding me there. I liked the defiance I saw, but I went still at Fluke’s name. I knew she’d said something—that was the turning point, when I left Millie alone with her. After that, Millie had been different, more reserved, a little like she was trying to keep a distance between us. Not that I minded, not really, but it bothered me. I thought things were going well.

“What did she say?” I asked, since that was what I was supposed to ask.

“She said not to fall in love with you.” She said the words like flames.

I sat back in my chair, surprised, and struggled not to show it. What the hell was Lady Fluke thinking, telling Millie something like that? Fluke had never gotten involved in my personal affairs before, and certainly never talked to one of my assistants like that. Maybe she saw something in Millie, or maybe she knew that my arrangement with her was a fraud—but either way, it was absurd. I felt a real stab of anger toward Fluke then, unlike anything before. She wasn’t the meddling type, and yet she’d tried to warn Millie away.

“I don’t understand,” I said finally, shaking my head. “Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know,” Millie said, but she sounded oddly relieved, like she’d been holding on to this for some time. “When you left, she came out and said it. You’re not the kind of man I should fall in love with.” Her eyebrows knitted down. “I don’t know what she was thinking. I mean, I don’t feel that way. It’s business between us.”

“Business,” I echoed, tilting my head. “Is that it, then?”

“Rees,” she said, her tone warning. “Come on.”

“You’re really going to tell me that’s it? Business?” I reached out then and put my hand on her thigh. She looked down at the touch, then back up to me—but she didn’t pull away. I lingered there, head tilted.

“I don’t know what Fluke was thinking,” she said, chewing on her lip. “Maybe she misinterpreted something.”

“What was there to interpret? It’s only business.” I moved my hand up her thigh, along her skirt. She shifted slightly, moving closer to me.

“What am I supposed to think?” she asked, her tone sounding angry, but also desperate and hungry. I liked the way her heat felt under my palm, and I stopped when I reached the crease of her legs. “You have this reputation— and our relationship is supposed to be professional—“

I leaned forward, moving my hand up from her thigh, and touched her cheek. She let out a breath and met my gaze before I let my lips move past hers, up to her ear. “Does this feel wrong to you? Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“Rees,” she said, but nothing more. I pulled back, letting my lips brush against her cheek, to the corner of her mouth, then kissed her. I held her there, a small kiss, barely anything, before she pressed harder against me, sucking in a breath through her nose, and her mouth opened, her tongue touched against mine, and we kissed deeper, her taste flooding my own, pinecones and mint leaf, and I moved my hand back to touch her hair, but bit her softly—

Before a knock at the door broke us apart.

She blushed, cheeks pink, eyes wide. I smiled at her and put a finger to my lips, then stood and turned from her. “Come in,” I said.

Jack poked his head into the room. “I need you in my office,” he said, then looked at Millie. “You should come too.”

“On the way,” I said, and Jack disappeared again.

Millie moved side to side and touched her lips with her fingertips, then stared at me like she wanted to say something, then stopped and looked down at the table, jaw working.

“Come on,” I said, grinning, feeing my pulse in my throat, wanting to kiss her again, god, so badly it almost hurt. “Let’s see what he has to say.”

She stood and followed