Teaching The Boss Page 3

  April stepped in and pushed the door firmly shut behind her. “No worries. I was stuck in traffic anyway.”

  Annabelle backed up and gave April enough room to squeeze past. “Did I miss anything in Finance class?”

  “No. Just some interest rate equation with fifty thousand variables. But Professor Lewis said we don’t have to memorize it. Just understand how everything flows together.” April set her book bag on the table in the small kitchen area and took out the finance textbook, her note pad, and the extra copy of notes she’d made back at HuntCorp.

  “I took a look through the homework,” said Annabelle. “It didn’t seem too bad.” She made her way to the side of the table without a chair and slid right in. “Have you started counting the days ’til graduation?”

  April snorted. “No. Well, maybe. There’s too much other stuff going on.” She was tempted to ask how the physical therapy session that led to Annabelle missing class went, but held her tongue. If Annabelle wanted to talk about her progress, she would. Although her friend had never seemed to mind discussing the car accident that changed her life forever, April never felt comfortable asking.

  “Is Sam working you to the bone again?” asked Annabelle.

  “No. Today wasn’t too bad. Not nearly as busy as I thought it’d be. But then again, Sam barely—never mind.”

  Annabelle leaned forward, her dark eyes wide. “Don’t ‘never mind’ me. I want to know. Sam barely what?”

  “I don’t know. He went out to lunch with his new supermodel girlfriend, and was…strange when he got back.”

  “Stranger than normal?”

  April cracked a smile. “Good point. But, yes. He was stranger than normal. I know he was swamped with work today, but he hardly asked me to do anything. I didn’t review any spreadsheets, scan email, help out other departments. All I did was answer the phone. I felt like such a—”

  “Secretary?”

  Her brow furrowed as she replayed the afternoon in her head again. “Yeah. I know I started out that way, but the past few years, we’ve been operating more like a partnership. I don’t know what happened in Paris to change that.”

  “Maybe he realized exactly how much he appreciates you.”

  April’s gaze shot to Annabelle. “Don’t say that. He sees me as an asset to the company. Trust me, I spent years wanting him to see me any other way. We have the perfect, professional relationship.”

  “If you say so.”

  The memory of Sam’s eyes roaming over her came back in a sudden rush. She took a deep gulp and pushed the thought away before she blushed. “He probably just got into a fight with his new girlfriend. Just forget it. Let’s talk interest rates.”

  “Please,” snorted Annabelle. “If the choice is between smokin’ millionaires and finance, the answer is always the hot guy.”

  April rubbed the bridge of her nose. The last thing she needed was her old feelings to roar to the surface. “What if the choice is between boy talk and actually passing one of our last college classes?”

  Annabelle threw her head back in mock despair. “Ugh! I hate it when you talk reasonably.”

  “Just wait until I start talking interest rates,” muttered April as she cracked open the textbook. “You won’t be able to contain your excitement.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  By Friday, things were mostly back to normal. As the accountants worked to finish the three years’ worth of audits in order to file with the SEC, it was a mad rush for April to get them all the documents they wanted. Whatever had bothered Sam earlier in the week, neither of them had enough time to let it get in the way of the audits.

  Since she’d been with the company longer than half the HuntCorp accounting staff, April was in charge of pulling a lot of the invoices being requested. She was happier to help when the requests didn’t come in at five o’clock on a Friday.

  After spending an hour looking for the latest invoice, she gave up. If it wasn’t in the archived files in the storage room or saved electronically, she had a bad feeling they didn’t have any copies at all. And she became much less motivated to dig through dusty file cabinets at seven p.m. on a Friday.

  As she trudged back to her desk, she brushed some lingering dust off her black and white patterned skirt. She sighed in relief when she glanced up to see light shining from under Sam’s door. She’d dump this on him. If he couldn’t figure it out within fifteen minutes, it would be a Monday problem.

  “Sam,” she called through the door. “You have a minute?”

  “Yeah.” His deep timbre had no problem penetrating the wood.

  She twisted the knob and leaned in. “Are you sure? I know you and Oksana had something tonight.” She halfway wanted him to say he was busy so they could both leave.

  “Shit.” He pulled his phone off the charger hooked up to his computer and glanced at the screen. “She would’ve text me if she was downstairs, so we have a few minutes. What’s up?”

  April mentally cursed. “You were supposed to say you were busy so we could both get out of here.” She crossed the room.

  He smiled at her, his blue eyes darker than normal with the nightscape behind him. “Come on. You know you’re as much of a workaholic as me.”

  She grunted. “I refuse to believe that.”

  “Says the woman who’s here instead of enjoying her weekend.”

  “I don’t have a choice. Gavin will kill me if I don’t get these pulled.” She held up the list of invoices as proof.

  “If he gives you more crap, tell him I said to go to hell. You’re doing his job right now and he’d damn well better realize it.”

  April bit her lip to avoid grinning like an idiot. It was always nice to know he had her back. “Aww. I love it when you get sentimental.”

  He cocked his head in acknowledgement. “Anytime. Now what are we looking at?” He motioned to the paper in her hand.

  “Right. Invoices.” She moved around his desk and leaned a hip against the dark wood to give her aching feet a break. She’d mastered the art of wearing heels for the nine-to-five day, but they were a bit hard to handle during the late nights. She wistfully thought of her tennis shoes in her oversized purse at her desk. Heels at work were one thing, but wearing them on the train was too much for her feet to bear.

  He held out a hand and she gave him the printout of the invoice request. “I was able to find everything on this list they sent over except for this one.” She bent over his shoulder and pointed to the one item not crossed out. “It’s the consulting that Edward Derbing did for us. Was there a contract or anything floating around that I don’t know about?”

  Sam set the paper down and rubbed his eyes. “I remember talking about the fee. I remember paying the fee. But I don’t remember if we ever got it in writing.”

  “This was years ago. Doesn’t our payment and the fact he hasn’t sued yet prove that it was booked for the right amount?”

  “Maybe. I’ll have to call Eddie on Monday and see if he has anything on file.” Sam fell back into his chair and looked up to April. “Was that the only one?”

  “Everything else is good,” she whispered. From this angle he was so close…she could feel his heat against her legs and smell the faint hint of his cologne. Or was that shaving cream? Either way, it was utterly masculine and so Sam.

  As she was about to jerk away, she caught his gaze. Oh my God. Those beautiful, intense eyes were wholly focused on her. Almost as though he was thinking the same thing she was. As though he was only seconds away from leaning up and pressing his lips against hers.

  A breath caught in her throat, and she bit her bottom lip, trying desperately to convince herself to look away. To do anything but the one thing she wanted to.

  The elevator dinged, and the spell was broken. April blinked a few times and glanced away, choosing instead to stare intently at the windows in front of her. Her body suddenly remembered to breathe again, and she took some long, calming breaths.

  “I’m sorry,” she mutte
red. “I should—”

  “It’s Oksana,” Sam said.

  April frowned, but then she heard the click-clack of stilettos headed toward Sam’s office.

  “I’ll just—”

  Sam jumped up; his chair wheeled across the floor and clanged into the window. “It’s late. You should probably get going.”

  “Sam, what—”

  He set a hand on her back and guided her toward his door. “Really. It’s the weekend. You should be off enjoying yourself.” The closer they got to her desk, the faster he moved and Oksana’s footsteps grew louder and louder.

  “Is this about Oksana? Is something wrong?”

  Instead of answering her or explaining himself, he practically shoved her toward her desk as Oksana turned the corner, her svelte frame wrapped in a beautiful green dress that showed off her long legs and tiny waist to perfection.

  “Hey, babe.” Sam turned every ounce of his attention away from April.

  For a few moments, April stood in a stunned silence as Oksana leaned into Sam and placed a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes widened at the kiss, and for a quick second, his gaze met April’s across the hallway, and a flash of guilt marred his features.

  He pulled away from Oksana. “Let’s go in here.” He took Oksana’s hand in his and pulled her into his office.

  What the hell was wrong with him? They hadn’t done anything questionable. Certainly nothing worthy of rushing her aside to avoid his girlfriend of a whole three weeks.

  April shook her head and bent down to pick up her oversized purse when the sound of Sam’s deep voice reached her ears.

  “Hey. I thought we were meeting downstairs,” he said.

  April cocked her head as she stared at Sam’s office. In his jumbled rush to get Oksana as far from her as possible, he’d left the door open a tiny crack. How unlike him. Sam wasn’t prone to flights of…crazy.

  Maybe there was a logical explanation and she just needed to give him a minute. Not that April could think of any possible reason he’d hide her from his girlfriend, but she owed him a chance.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” Oksana purred. “You’re all alone up in your big palace. I figured you’d want company.”

  Okay, it was time to get the hell out of Dodge. She stared intently at the flashing screens of her computer as it shut down.

  “I’m not alone,” said Sam. “There are plenty of people still here. April’s right outside.”

  Oksana laughed. “She’s a smart girl. I’m sure she knows what we’re doing.”

  April rolled her eyes. Seriously?

  “Did you talk with her about boundaries yet?”

  April’s ears perked up at that. Why would Sam need to talk to her about boundaries? He was the one making out with his girlfriend in front of her. She should leave. At this point, listening in on a private conversation between her boss and his girlfriend wouldn’t bring anything but trouble.

  “I’ve been too busy to deal with the April problem,” he muttered, irritation evident in his voice.

  Okay, now she couldn’t leave. April problem? She tiptoed over to the crack of light coming from the door, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible.

  “I know you agree.” Oksana leaned into his chest and stared up at him, wearing the exact same pout April had seen in all those swimsuit photos. “It would be best for everyone involved if April were out of your life.”

  Sam stumbled back and ran into his own desk. “I’ve made up my mind. We’re not going to talk about this anymore. Now, I think April made reservations for eight.”

  Oksana’s sensual pout turned sour. “Sam, you have to trust me. I know people, and April will thank you eventually. It might hurt her at first, but she’ll get over it.”

  Every muscle in her body stiffened at the words. Why were they talking about firing her? Why wasn’t Sam defending her?

  “We really need to go.” Sam shut his laptop. His gaze shot to the crack in the door. Right to where April peeped in on their conversation. About her. She jerked away from the crack of light and held her breath. Come on, Sam, she tried to say telepathically. Say something. Tell her she’s wrong. Tell her you need me.

  Oksana must’ve noticed the long silence. “Is everything okay, Sam?”

  This was his chance. He could tell off Oksana and let her know exactly how important April was to him. He could break up with her right then and there, never look back at the selfish, indulgent creature he’d brought back with him from Paris.

  “I’ll talk to her next week. Now, I think I left my jacket at lunch. Let’s head out and I’ll call the restaurant on the way to see if they still have it.”

  April felt all the blood drain from her face. That was it? He’d known her for six years and had dated Oksana for three weeks! Was that how little she meant to him?

  Her brow scrunched together and she struggled to catch her breath, but she wouldn’t let herself cry. Not over someone who obviously felt so little for her.

  She twisted around and fell back against the cool wood of the door as she tried to regain her composure. If she left now, she’d probably end up sharing the elevator with them. God, how embarrassing. Maybe she could hide out in the bathroom for a few minutes and once they were gone, she could leave gracefully.

  Gracefully? Screw that. Not letting herself overthink it, April pounded her hands against the wall as she pushed herself forward.

  “Damn it, April, wait,” called Sam from behind her.

  “Was she listening?” asked a shocked Oksana. What April wouldn’t give to never hear her voice again.

  April ignored them both and stomped over to her desk. She grabbed her purse from the floor next to her chair and reached for her computer. No. The computer was company property.

  Once again, her emotions threatened to bubble up and she tried to breathe her way through it. No. She wasn’t going to give Sam or Oksana or anyone else in the damn building the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  “April!” shouted Sam from behind her.

  “Go to hell,” she bit out. She needed to get as far away from him and his supermodel and this place as possible.

  “At least let me explain.”

  “Explain what?” She twisted around to look at the man she’d considered a friend up until five minutes ago. “Why she’s talking about you getting rid of me? Why the hell would you even be talking about me with her? I am none of her business and—” April broke off as she took another breath that did nothing to calm her nerves. “I’m leaving.” She turned away.

  He followed her retreat to the elevator. “You can’t leave.”

  She repeatedly jammed her finger into the down arrow and willed the damn doors to open. “I can do whatever I want. You don’t want me anymore, remember? God. After everything we’ve been through. Everything I’ve done for you!”

  Sam slid between her and the elevator bay. April turned her gaze away, not wanting to meet his eyes. She knew she’d burst into tears at the sight of his beautiful face. One more reminder of the knife stuck in her back.

  Oksana was nowhere in sight, which was probably for the best, considering April’s mood.

  “I’m not trying to get rid of you. If you’d just listen—”

  “Three weeks! You’ve known her three weeks! Why is she telling you anything about me? I have supported you—no matter what trouble you were in or what hole I had to dig you out of, I have been there. Three weeks!”

  Sam was silent as the elevator dinged behind him. He looked down at her, expression tense with everything he held back. But April didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She just wanted to go home and forget this ever happened.

  Yep. There were the tears. As they rolled down her cheeks, she pushed Sam aside. His hard muscles beneath her hand were proof of how much stronger he was, but he obediently moved aside.

  Of course her last memory of Sam would be how fit he was. She was so pathetic. Stomping out like a three-year-old and crying her eyes out. Six years of dignity f
lushed away with one temper tantrum. She threw herself against the side of the elevator as she fished through her purse for her tennis shoes. With the state she was in, she wouldn’t make it ten feet in heels.

  As the doors shut, Sam’s arm shot in and caused them to slide back open. He crossed into the elevator and once again stood in front of her, crowding her against the wall. April let out a defeated sigh. “Just go back to your girlfriend,” she breathed. “I don’t want to fight with you. I just want to go home.”

  “April,” he said softly.

  She looked up at him and held her arms up in surrender. “What? What do you want from me? You want me gone and I’m leaving.”

  The doors slid shut behind him and she was confronted with the fact she was stuck alone with Sam for a fifty-floor descent.

  Her arms fell limply to the side and she lowered her gaze. There was nowhere else to look, so she focused on the third button down on his white dress shirt.

  One floor down. Two. Just forty-eight more to go.

  The button moved closer. “I don’t want you to go.”

  Why did he still want to talk about this? “Well, you should’ve thought about that before—”

  He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. She gasped in shock, but then his mouth covered hers and everything else seemed to fade away. All of her disappointment and hurt and rage bubbled into the kiss, and instead of pushing him away, she pulled him closer.

  He angled his head for better access as her fingers curled in his collar. She wasn’t gentle or soft. She pressed her lips into his, not forgiving him even as she allowed his hands to roam over her back, her rear.

  His fingers gripped her thighs; he leaned forward, crushed her against the wall and leaned his full weight against her. His muscled body against her softer curves. She groaned at the contrast and ran her tongue over his lips.

  It was his turn to groan as his fingers found the hem of her skirt and moved up, skimmed along her bare thigh.

  Ding.

  The elevator doors opened to reveal the deserted lobby of the office building, but neither of them moved. They remained intertwined, both gasping for air. The doors closed and April finally managed to remove her hands from his collar. They slid over his shoulders to his chest. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to savor the feel of his heart pumping through his shirt. Savored the notion that his world was as off-kilter from the kiss as hers was. And then she pushed him away.