Teaching The Boss Page 18

  She bit her bottom lip as her eyes widened in excitement. “Standing!” she shouted in joy.

  His mouth dropped open. “When the hell did this happen?”

  She laughed as she reveled in his surprise. “A few months ago. The physical therapist has been kicking my butt all up and down the block. Today was my big debut. I’m walking across the stage!”

  Sam let out a quick laugh, hardly able to believe his eyes or ears. “You’re walking,” he whispered.

  “A bit.” She gingerly sat back down in the chair. “Now stop gawking. I can only walk short distances for now and there’s a diploma waiting for me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  April jumped as warm hands wrapped around her from behind and pulled her against a firm, obviously male body. She laughed as she leaned into Sam’s arms. She’d recognize his touch anywhere. “Is Doris still ignoring you?” She glanced across the table, now cluttered with empty plates and recently opened cards, to see Annabelle talking with her mother.

  Sam shot Doris a smile, and she promptly turned away. “Yep. Still doesn’t like me. Can’t say I blame her, though.”

  April turned to give him a comforting hug. “I’m still glad you came out with us. It meant so much to me.”

  He opened his mouth to answer, but his cell vibrated against her hip and April took a step back. Sam didn’t seem to be in any hurry to answer the call. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

  He shook his head and pressed a button through the fabric of his pants. “Work can wait for another hour. It’s probably Donald or Simon, and I don’t want to deal with either of them.”

  She pulled her arms around herself. “You already took half the day off. If you need to take the call, go ahead.”

  “Nope. Your day. I should’ve admitted that to myself a lot sooner.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m going to try to track down the waitress and see if I can get her to sneak me the bill.”

  She grinned up at him as he turned to cross to the back of the restaurant. They’d gone out to celebrate with half a dozen of Annabelle’s family and a few other graduates, so she knew the bill would be sizable.

  Something sharp poked the back of her shoulder and April turned. Her jaw dropped at the sight of a pissed-off Simon West. “What are you doing here?”

  “What the hell do you think? Wherever you are, Hunt seems to follow. Now get him for me.”

  April eyed the consultant. His suit was wrinkled and eyes bloodshot. “Are you okay?”

  He took a step closer. “Don’t patronize me,” he whispered. “Now go get your boyfriend.”

  Who the hell was he to come into her party and order her around? “Listen. You’re obviously distressed. Sam will be back in a moment, but I want you to seriously consider if you’re in any condition to be having a professional conversation right now.”

  He blinked down at her. “You have no idea what he did today. Who he let get away.”

  Sam had mentioned that Simon was killing two birds with one stone. The man who Donald was dealing with was supposedly dirty. “This is personal to you, isn’t it? This guy hurt you? I’m sorry if I got in the middle of this, but I didn’t mean—”

  “Spare me your apology,” said Simon. “He’s already long gone and won’t get in a ten-mile radius of me at this point. I hope you and Hunt have a great life together. You make sure to tell him never to call me for help again.” With a sneer of disgust, Simon stormed out of the restaurant.

  April was half tempted to run after him, but she was fairly certain he needed a lot more than a friendly ear and cold beer.

  “You look like you saw a ghost,” said Sam from behind her.

  “Huh?” she said as Sam came into view and handed her an oversize manila envelope. April grasped it as she glanced up to Sam. “What’s this?”

  He shrugged. “No idea. A messenger handed it to me. But I’m fairly certain it’s a bomb.”

  April dropped the package as her eyes widened.

  “Kidding! Kidding,” assured Sam as he bent to pick up the envelope and handed it to her again. “It’s just weird because the messenger tracked me down here, which is creepy since I didn’t even know I was eating at this restaurant until an hour ago.”

  April looked closer at the back of the envelope. To Samuel Hunt and April Morgan. To be opened together.

  “I agree. That’s creepy.” She slid her fingers along the outside, but it felt just like any other envelope she’d ever handled. “Think I should open it?”

  “Here.” He gripped the top of the envelope and slid his apartment key along the top to cut a clean line along the seam. As nothing happened, he met April’s eyes. “I think we’re in the clear.”

  She snorted. “I can’t believe you got me so nervous.” She pulled the papers out. She frowned. It was some sort of contract.

  “Shit.” Sam pulled the papers from her hands.

  “Hey. I was reading those.”

  Sam’s eyes shot between her and the papers. “Do you have any idea what these are?”

  “I might if you gave me a chance to see them,” she muttered as she shifted to stand alongside him so they could both read at the same time.

  He flipped through the stack of pages. “April, this is from Donald.”

  “Where does it say that?”

  “It’s the HuntCorp shares.”

  “What!” This time it was April who ripped the papers from Sam’s grip. Sure enough, now that she knew what to look for, her jaw dropped open. “Oh. My. God. He’s gone insane.”

  Sam pulled his phone out. “Fifteen missed calls from Donald,” muttered Sam, as he punched in the keys to call him back.

  April went back to staring in awe at the stock certificates. There were so many of them.

  “What did you do?” asked Sam from over her shoulder.

  April leaned in closer to hear the other end of the line.

  “Sounds like you got my package,” said Donald.

  “Why?” April had so many questions to ask, but it was the only word she could manage to say.

  “April Morgan,” he said wistfully. “I’ve always wanted the best for my son. To make sure he succeeded no matter what.”

  “What does that have to do with giving me all the HuntCorp shares?”

  “After what you said yesterday, I’ve come to believe that you’re in a much better position than I to protect him. Consider this gift the glue that holds you together.”

  Sam shuffled a bit closer to April. “What makes you think she won’t sell them to me?”

  “I suppose I’m trusting her. I have to say, it’s an unpleasant feeling.”

  April hugged the certificates close to her chest. “I don’t know what to say, sir.”

  “Don’t say thanks. I happen to know exactly what a stubborn ass my son is and you’re going to have your hands full. Just make sure you take good care of that company. I happen to know it’s important to him.”

  “I, um, I will, sir.”

  Sam leaned away. “I’m going to be talking to you tomorrow.” He hung up the phone.

  April studied Sam’s stoic expression, trying her best to get a read on him. “Are you mad?”

  His brow crinkled as he looked down at her. “No. Not at all. I’d much rather you have those shares than anyone else. I guess I’m just confused.”

  “Well, think about it. He couldn’t give you the shares, because that would be admitting he was wrong. From what I hear, Hunts don’t like doing that. So he found a way to give them back while saving face.”

  Sam set an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “You think he really wants what’s best for me?”

  “I know he does, Sam. It’s his way of asking for a second chance.” She rested her head against Sam’s chest.

  “You know what this means now, don’t you?” His voice rumbled against her ear.

  Her mind couldn’t stop racing with all the implications of the shares she’d just been gifted. “What?”

  “You’
re my boss now.”

  She pulled away slightly and stared up at him. “You mean I get to order you around now?”

  A mixture of laughter and worry flashed over his features. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, first order of business, you need to bring me coffee.”

  He arched a brow. “Coffee?”

  “Yep.” She nodded for emphasis. “I demand you bring me coffee every morning. Naked. While I’m still in bed.”

  A wicked grin spread across his face. “Tell you what, why don’t we work on the naked and bed part, then we can start with the coffee.”

  Her eyes rolled up toward the ceiling as if she was considering it. “We should really get started on that.”

  “Right now?”

  April quickly gathered up his jacket and her purse. “What the boss wants, the boss gets.”

  ~~~ THE END~~~

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  Have you checked out the other books in the Billionaires in the City series?

  Make sure to take a look at Teasing The Boss to see Simon’s story!

  Premier business consultant Simon West can get any deal in New York City, but he can’t get what he wants most: revenge against Mark DuFord, the slick investment banker whose shady dealing led to Simon’s best friend’s suicide. Wealthy, and well-protected by the political influence he’s been able to purchase, DuFord has become untouchable—or so he thinks. But when DuFord’s former girlfriend shows up at Simon’s office asking for help, Simon knows that Grace Bell is the weapon he needs to finally destroy his enemy completely. All Simon has to do is pretend to love her.

  Grace Bell knows that approaching hot-shot Simon West to save her business is a long shot, but she’s desperate. After growing up with a family that expected her to be a happy housewife, she’d proved them all wrong when she became the go-to event-coordinator in New York City. But after the tabloids took a completely innocent picture of her with a married senator and totally misinterpreted the situation, she’s losing clients left and right. When she approaches Simon and begs for his help to resuscitate the business she put her heart and soul into, she never expects him to agree. Or that the payment would be posing as his lover as an excuse to get close to her ex.

  Simon knows if he goes forward with his plan, it's only a matter of time before Mark realizes what they're up to and Mark’s enemies have a way ending up broke, in jail or six feet under. As Simon and Grace grow closer, Simon must decide if putting her in the line of fire is worth avenging the past.

  See an excerpt on the next page….

  Teasing The Boss

  (A sneak peek at book 2 in the Billionaires in the City Series)

  Copyright 2015 Mallory Crowe

  “So you’re a stalker now?”

  Grace’s eyes widened from behind her over sized sunglasses. “I’m not stalking anyone!” she said into the phone as she navigated through the busy morning sidewalks, trying her best not to bring attention to herself.

  Though it was hard to remain inconspicuous when she banged into the pedestrians walking by. She’d give anything to take off the damn glasses, but she couldn’t risk being recognized. The long shadows cast by the skyscrapers on either side of her kept the streets dark, and she could hardly see where she was going.

  “I’m never going to wear sunglasses again,” she promised as a heel caught in the crack of the sidewalk. Letting out a rather unladylike grunt, she pulled the shoe free and scanned the busy street for her target.

  “For what it’s worth, I think they looked fierce.” The smile in Andre’s voice was evident, and she was sure he was enjoying this all too much.

  “I think I lost him,” she breathed. Body after body brushed past her, but she didn’t budge from her spot as she looked for any sign of the short red hair she’d followed all morning.

  Andre scoffed on the other end of the line. “You lost your one chance at cleaning up your image? You gotta want it, honey.”

  Grace pursed her lips. “He’s not my only chance,” she muttered. She moved forward, glanced in the windows of the buildings and hoped he’d ducked into one when she’d been distracted. “He’s just my best chance.”

  “Well, the paparazzi are still following me around, so you might be able to take off your incognito wear.”

  “I can’t believe that worked.” She passed by a bakery. The scent of pastries fresh out of the oven wafted through the air, and she was half tempted to give up her chase and drown her sorrows in sugar. At least if she was fat, no one would recognize her.

  “The press are smart enough when they’re trying to track you down, but the second they think they’ve got a lock, they get blinded by their own greed. I could’ve been five inches shorter with a beer gut, but as long as I was wearing your outfit and that wig, they’d follow me to the ends of the earth.”

  The corner of her mouth ticked up at the memory of Andre wearing the blond wig that slightly resembled Grace’s own long locks. “I really appreciate all you did this morning.”

  “Just because I like boys doesn’t mean I dress in drag for fun. You owe me.”

  A trickle of guilt snaked its way through her. Andre had done so much for her, and not just by distracting the press. He’d been the first employee at Bell Planning, her event coordination business. She owed him so much and, at this rate, Bell Planning would be closing doors within the month.

  “Don’t worry,” she told him with false confidence. “I’m going to find this guy, and he’s going to fix everything.”

  Andre was silent and that sent a shiver through Grace.. If he didn’t think she could turn this around, what shot did she really have?

  The defeat didn’t have time to settle in her gut. Her target turned out of the coffeehouse a few doors away and started down the street. Right toward her.

  Every instinct within her told Grace to turn and hide, but it was too late. Simon West stared intently at her as he cut his way through the crowds. His gaze managed to keep her frozen in place.

  Simon West didn’t fit the mental image Grace had cooked up in her mind. She expected the consulting prodigy to wear over sized glasses and have a haircut from the eighties. She’d worked with a lot of the high-powered elite during her few years in New York City and she’d come to realize that most successful businessmen fit into one of two categories: the smooth movers and the number men. From all the articles and stories she’d read, Simon West was one of the best number men in the business.

  Except the man who walked toward her, the one she’d followed since he left his apartment twenty minutes ago, was a drool worthy example of a smooth mover. His gray suit was perfectly tailored to his toned body, and his dusty red hair was kept almost as short as the neatly trimmed beard that covered his face. It was just long enough so his strong jaw and killer cheekbones were evident and, at the moment, his deep chestnut eyes were focused solely on her. She could tell by looking at him that Simon was the type who got what he wanted, when he wanted it.

  With all that energy focused squarely on her, Grace suddenly wished she could be like a turtle and hide inside her shell when threatened.

  But before she could snap herself out of her frightened daze, Simon had reached her and come to a halt about a foot away. “You were outside my apartment this morning,” he said abruptly.

  “Uh,
” she murmured. Only then did Grace realize she still clutched her phone. Unable to think straight under his scrutiny, she shoved the phone into her purse and did the first thing she could think of. She lied. “Was I? It’s been a crazy morning and I’ve been walking around for a while.” She said a quick prayer of thanks for the sunglasses she’d been cursing just moments before. They might be the only thing keeping Simon from seeing just how full of crap she was.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  Grace felt the blood drain from her face. “No! I don’t think so. I mean, I would remember someone like you.”

  He cocked his head. A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Someone like me?”

  Damn it! She was better than this. Grace had hobnobbed with some of the richest people in the city. She could get through one conversation without tripping over her words like a smitten schoolgirl, but she wasn’t quite as used to being so desperate going into business talks and it threw her off-kilter.

  “Let me start over,” she said in her “let’s get down to business” voice that always seemed to calm her clients down.

  “Okay then.” Simon held out his hand. “I’m Simon. Nice to meet you and why are you following me?”

  This time she kept her cool as she met his handshake. The warmth of his touch was a sharp contrast from the cool shadows of the late summer morning. Goose bumps went up her arm. “I’m not following you, and my name is Grace Bell.”

  If she hadn’t been studying him so closely, she might have missed the flash of recognition in his features. “I can’t think of many reasons for an attractive woman to be hunting me down at seven o’clock in the morning, but if you really want a date, I would be open to it.” He planted a smile firmly on his face.