The Boss's Orders: Alpha Male Billionaire Office Romance Read Free Page A

an eighty million dollar shopping plaza development that’s pretty much guaranteed to tank.
    I won’t admit to the mistake — at least not right now, in front of everyone. I can always find a loophole once the paperwork starts to come through. But I curse myself for my inattentiveness.
    This is what happens when you get distracted by a woman, I warn myself. You’re thinking with your dick instead of your brain. The idea of getting rid of her with the rest of the Prescott & Bailey employees is starting to sound more and more appealing.
    As soon as I’m back in my office, I pick up my phone and call Bonnie. I’m pissed off now.
    “Get me HR on the line.”
    “Yah, okay” she says, snapping her gum. God, she sounds ignorant.
    “It’s ‘ yes, sir ,’” I growl, then hang up the phone.

3
    Claire
    T hat night when I get home, I try to avoid my two roommates. April and Vanessa are bitches on the best of days, but I’m now three days late with this month’s rent and I may have forgotten the tampons that April asked me to stop and pick up on my way home.
    Can you blame me? I’ve had a rather distracting day.
    My plan doesn’t work though. Vanessa is on me like a shark the second I walk through the front door.
    “Rent?” she says, holding out her hand like she expects me to just have hundreds of dollars to plunk down onto her palm.
    I pull my hair back. “I’m really sorry. I know I’m late. I get paid on Friday.” I don’t mention the fact that I might also be out of a job by Friday.
    Vanessa folds her arms, making no pretence about the fact that she’s pissed.
    “You think April and I can afford to keep covering you like this?”
    “It’s just till Friday.” I hope.
    “It doesn’t matter, Claire. We’re sick of this. If you don’t get it together by next month, you’re out.”
    I bite down hard on my tongue to keep the tears from coming. The last thing I want is for Vanessa to see me cry. She’s a tough-as-nails bartender who probably makes twice what I make just in tips, and she’s intimidating as hell.
    “I said I’d have it Friday,” I say instead.
    “Fine.” She stalks off, leaving me with yet another thing to stress about.
    I go into my room and close the door. I flop face-first down on the bed.
    What a freaking day.
    I still can’t stop thinking about my new boss. And about the shame of running into him and all those people outside the bathroom.
    I cover my head with the pillow. Surely they didn’t hear anything. I was so quiet. There’s no way they could have heard anything. Right?
    But then why was he looking at me that way? Like a big bad wolf about to devour a sweet innocent sheep?
    I knew I was the sheep in this scenario, but the way I was thinking about him made me feel anything but innocent.
    I start to get antsy and restless hiding out in my bedroom, so I slip out of the apartment and head down the street to the convenience store. I think ice cream is on order today.
    As I walk there I try to clear my mind. I think about ice cream flavors and whether I should get candy too, maybe gummy bears or sour cherries. When that line of thinking doesn’t prove to be distracting enough, I try counting sidewalk cracks. And still I can’t stop thinking about William Godrich. About that jawline. The muscles rippling under the finely cut suit. The magnetic pull I felt when he looked into my eyes.
    This is my house now.
    When I get home, I grab a spoon and take my pint of Chunky Monkey into my bedroom and dig in. I swallow spoonful after spoonful of cold ice cream, hoping to numb away the fire that’s been burning in my belly since William Godrich walked into my life.

    * * *
    T he layoffs start the next morning.
    Just like that, the reality of this new world order starts to set in. I watch helplessly from the reception desk as Saul from accounting huffs out of the office, accompanied by two burly security guards and carrying an aloe vera plant and an armful of old newspapers. He’s