Teaching The Boss Page 7

  So April kept most of her Sam confessions to Annabelle. She had some sort of calming effect about her. She’d been through so much since losing the use of her legs but still maintained such a cheery attitude when so many others would’ve retreated to a dark, pessimistic state.

  Whereas Jessica was more like a tornado that would walk into a room and stir everything up, and leave it in an even bigger mess than before she got there.

  “His being there had nothing to do with me,” April reaffirmed.

  “The entire reason he was there to yell at his d—”

  April narrowed her eyes.

  “Your new boss,” Annabelle continued, “was because of you. He misses you and wants you back. In more ways than one.”

  “We had that conversation already,” said April. “He’s still with his girlfriend. It’s not like he’s been pining all alone since I left.” She held her hands in front of her. Every time she remembered that Sam and Oksana were still together, a little fission of rage would rumble through her. It was an unnatural sensation and one she’d like to stop experiencing. “Either way, something else happened today,” she said to change the subject.

  “Did you kiss again?” Annabelle’s face lit up with the words.

  “No! Get your head out of the gutter.”

  Annabelle groaned. “Ugh. You two are so frustrating. Fine. What else happened?”

  “So I was able to convince him not to make a scene and I promised him I’d have my new boss call him. He was out of the office all day, so I had to leave him a message on his desk and I accidentally saw something I shouldn’t have.”

  “You snooped? That’s not like you.” Annabelle cocked her head as though the thought of April breaking any rule was completely foreign to her.

  “I didn’t snoop. Not on purpose. I went to leave and my purse knocked a bunch of stuff off his desk.” Ugh, she could just imagine being questioned by the police. “You accidentally looked in the confidential documents?”

  “So what did you see?”

  April glanced to the driver, who appeared to be solely focused on weaving through the jam-packed streets. Well, what weaving he could do in the crowded streets. Luckily they were leaving an hour early for what should be a ten-minute drive with no traffic. The joys of New York travel.

  “There was an entire file on the Bs.”

  Annabelle leaned forward. “It had something bad in it? What was in the file?”

  “Well, apparently they’re more than friends.”

  “Ha! That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. But it explains so much! You always said how close they were and that they did everything together.”

  “Yeah. Them and their wives! This is a massive bombshell. Why the heck would D—er, he have this?” Even though April couldn’t exactly determine Donald’s endgame, it was obvious his intentions were less than honorable. Her heart sank at the thought.

  Annabelle sat back. Her eyes roamed over the city streets as though considering possibilities. “It might not mean anything.”

  April raised a brow. “You don’t believe that.”

  She sighed. “No. This isn’t good.”

  “Tell me about it. So do you think the old boss is in trouble?” asked April.

  “It’s a complicated situation. We have no way of knowing what he’s going to do with that information.”

  Well, that wasn’t the hopeful, optimistic Annabelle she was used to. “Do I tell him? Sam deserves to know.”

  Annabelle gave her a warning glance, and April looked to the driver again. He still seemed much more focused on the road than them.

  “I think it depends on you,” said Annabelle.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I mean you left one to work for the other. Now you have to choose who you’re really loyal to.”

  April bit her bottom lip. “This is bad. This is corporate espionage bad. I don’t do this stuff.”

  “You weren’t supposed to see that file. If you just let things play their course and stay out of it, no one will hold that against you.”

  April shook her head. “Sam would. I know it. He’s put everything into his company.” She remembered how mad he’d been when he heard his father hired her. He would be pissed when she confirmed his suspicions of Donald’s intent.

  “Then tell him.”

  “If word gets out that I ratted on my employer, no one will hire me. And I don’t even know what old boss would do. Hiring a private investigator isn’t illegal, though I doubt the methods they used to get those pictures were legal. Either way, new boss’s hands are clean. What could Sam even do about it?” He would have to play in the dirt with Donald. April shuddered at the thought of what he might do to get back at his father for this.

  “As I said. No one can force you to do anything,” said Annabelle.

  April looked out the window and considered all her options, each one worse than the last. “What do you think I should do?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea.”

  “I need to tell him. I owe him,” April murmured.

  “Do you? This thing with his dad was going on long before HuntCorp even existed and you had every reason to quit. None of this is your fault. He never even told you why he hates new boss so much. But it would kill old boss if anything happened to his company.”

  “Not helping.” If the normally cool and collected Annabelle was confused by this, how the heck was April going to figure it out?

  “Well, let’s think of what could happen. What if you didn’t tell him?”

  April frowned. “Then I’d still have job security, but he could lose everything. He’d be even more pissed at me than he is now and spiral into a self-destructive warpath.”

  “And what if you call him right now and lay everything on the line?”

  “Then he at least has a chance of saving his business. But then I might be out of a job and blacklisted for blowing the whistle. And there’s a very real possibility that his company is still destroyed by whatever his dad is planning. But I don’t know what he’s planning. I’m just going off the, um, illicit nature of the photos and what he’s told me about his father in the past.”

  “Can’t you go halfway?” asked Annabelle.

  April’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

  “Just let your old boss know that something might be up. A little warning, but no details. That way he’s not completely blindsided. Maybe nothing specific enough that new boss can trace it back to you.”

  The possibilities buzzed through her mind. “Like send an obscure text?”

  “Or email or candygram or anything,”

  April chuckled at the idea of sending a candygram. Your dad is screwing you over, but here’s some chocolate to make you feel better! Text it was… She dug in her purse for her phone.

  “How much are you going to tell him?” asked Annabelle.

  “I don’t know. Short and simple would be best.” April rubbed her now throbbing temples. “Should I do it from another phone? Isn’t there an app or something that blocks my number from showing up?”

  Annabelle snorted. “I don’t know a thing about apps. You can use my phone.”

  “No. With the contacts he has, he’ll trace your number back to you and know I was using your phone. He’ll just have to respect me when I say this is all I’m telling him.”

  “Will that work?”

  “I have no idea. But I don’t want to sit back and watch everything we’ve worked for crumble because of some damn family feud.”

  Her fingers skimmed over the screen. Your father is planning on something. He has dirt on the Bs. I can’t get involved. Be careful.

  She hit the Send button and dropped the phone onto the cracked leather of the cab’s backseat. “There. I’m officially a corporate spy. Let’s go get our business degrees.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sam threw the phone onto the desk. The clacking of plastic on wood echoed through the quiet office. He climbed out of his chair a
nd paced around the room, weaving between his desk and the furniture.

  Of course Donald was planning something. It was just like him to fuck with Sam as much as possible. He should be surprised Donald hadn’t made his move sooner. He’d probably expected Sam to fail. Just like Donald to wait in the wings for Sam to trip up, and if that didn’t happen, he’d kick a leg out to make sure Sam landed flat on his face.

  Well, not this time. HuntCorp had over two hundred million in revenue in the last year alone, and those figures were only growing. It would take a lot more than a few high-placed industry contacts to mess that up.

  What did April say exactly? Sam snatched up the (luckily still working) phone and re-read her cryptic text. Donald was going after the Bs. Each of them owned thirty percent. Together they could technically control HuntCorp, but they’d always let Sam take the reins, happy to stay in the background and cash their dividend checks.

  Sam had never been happy about the arrangement, but they demanded it, and it had gotten him the extra capital he needed to start the business off right.

  He couldn’t go in blind on this. Desperate for more information, he called April, but he wasn’t too surprised when the call went straight to voicemail. She said she didn’t want to get involved and he knew he should respect that. Hell, he wanted to respect it. Wanted to let her get the recognition she deserved for being her awesome self instead of dragging her into all of his shit.

  He ended the call before he left a message. This was his hole he was in. April had already warned him, and that was more than she probably should’ve done.

  With a calming breath, Sam set the phone back down and lowered himself back into his chair. He could get out of this. He wasn’t the same kid right out of school who Donald had messed with before.

  He could handle his father by now. Besides, he thought, as a smirk formed, it would be nice to be on the winning side of Donald’s games for once.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Please come into my office.”

  The deep, confident voice coming through the phone receiver sent chills down April’s spine. “Um, what is this about, Mr. Hunt?”

  “I’ve told you to call me Donald. And I’d prefer to discuss this in person.”

  First-name basis was harder when she knew she’d given insider information to a competitor. Not that Donald and Sam were in the same business per se, but they were definitely in some sort of competition. “I’ll be right up, si—Donald.”

  Without a word, he hung up, and April was left to stare at the receiver as though it had just grown three heads. It probably wasn’t anything. She’d sent the cryptic text to Sam just over a week ago and hadn’t heard a thing from either of them.

  Then again, she could count on one hand how many times Donald Hunt had called her into his office. Besides the wildly inappropriate visit to her apartment when she’d first met the real estate mogul, he’d kept his distance, not having much time to deal with an entry-level hire.

  After the much too short for April’s nerves elevator ride, she moved closer and closer to the ominous, massive office. Her heart beat faster, and she did her best to keep any sign of fear from playing across her face.

  She crossed over the threshold and let out a breath. At least there were no police surrounding Donald. He looked up from his computer and smiled up at her.

  The smile did a bit to calm her nerves, but she was far from relaxed. “You called?”

  “Thanks for coming up so quick, April.”

  That was fast? Maybe she should’ve stalled longer…

  “Shut the door, if you don’t mind. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  Oh shit. Obediently, April pushed the heavy wood door shut and turned back to Donald. “Should I be worried, sir?”

  “We’re back to ‘sir’ again?”

  “Instinct. Sorry, Donald.” Yeah, “Donald” just didn’t sound natural coming out of her lips. Did he really think they were on a first-name basis? Well, he could call her whatever the hell he wanted, but when it came to her, she’d feel more comfortable with “sir” or “Your Majesty” or “Your Richness.”

  He chuckled a bit. “I don’t know when I became so scary to everyone around here.”

  You became scarier the second I betrayed you to your son. But only because you were maybe/possibly going to betray him. So you totally deserved that betrayal.

  “The price of success, I suppose,” she muttered. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

  “Jack Mason is having a big shindig to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of his business opening doors. Do you know what Jack does?”

  April searched her memory. Why did that name sound so familiar? Then she remembered. “He makes appliances. Ovens, refrigerators, microwaves. That kind of stuff, right?”

  “Exactly. Sam has done business with him for a number of years.”

  At the mention of Sam, April felt the blood rush from her face. “I don’t want to get in the middle—”

  “Just hear me out,” said Donald. “This is one of those few society events where Sam and I will be in the same room together for an extended period of time, and I have some very important news to discuss with him.”

  She took a deep gulp. “News?”

  “The exact nature of it is confidential, but he’s not going to be happy.”

  “And what does this have to do with me?”

  “You have a calming effect on him. I think you should come with me to the party just in case he needs a shoulder to lean on.”

  April crossed her arms over her chest. “You mean in case he tries to make a scene?” Besides, if he thought she had a calming effect on Sam, he was getting faulty intel.

  He grimaced. “At this point, I feel a scene is unavoidable.”

  “If you know you’re going to hurt him and don’t care, why even bother asking me to pick up the pieces?”

  “On the contrary,” he said. “Everything I do is because I care. Sam and I have a very complex and sordid history. I don’t expect you to understand all the intricacies involved.”

  April scoffed.

  “That’s not an insult to your intelligence. Merely a nod to your ignorance of the situation at hand. Nonetheless, this event is black tie, floor-length dress formal attire. I’ve booked you a room for a night of the party. Rest assured it’s far away from mine.”

  “Don’t want people getting the wrong idea?”

  “That…and my room is much, much nicer. Don’t worry. You still have a suite.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable with this, Donald.”

  “I never expected it to make you comfortable. However, according to my sources, you haven’t hesitated to make yourself uncomfortable for Sam in the past.”

  Her eyes widened for a moment, before she realized he wasn’t talking about the kiss she’d shared with his son. He referenced all the late nights and frantic phone calls she’d made on behalf of some important meeting or reservation Sam needed. Even so, she still wasn’t happy about this. “You’re using me. I know it and you don’t even care that I know. I won’t forget this.” She turned away. She couldn’t listen to any more of his confusing justifications. He could take his evil plot and shove it up his ass.

  “April,” he called as she reached the door.

  She didn’t turn, but she did stop.

  “He’s going to need you.”

  She bit back the insults she wanted to hurl at the most powerful man in New York City. Sam had been right when he’d warned her off, and she’d brushed him off like nothing more than a bug.

  Now they were both going to pay.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jessica sat back against April’s bed. “That’s perfect,” she said, a smile widening on her face.

  “I feel like a five-year-old playing dress up in her mother’s clothes,” muttered April.

  Jessica chuckled and pushed herself off the mattress to stand next to April. “Don’t say that. You look like a million bucks.”

&nbs
p; “I don’t look like a million bucks. I’m wearing a million bucks.”

  “It wasn’t that expensive. I told you some designers owed me a favor.”

  April turned around again and glanced at the mostly open back of the daring dress. Well, nothing was too daring, per se, but she still felt much too bared to the world. The soft, dark blue silk was draped over her shoulders, fell gracefully over her breasts, left a deep V neckline and caught at her hips, making her waist look even smaller.

  “I can understand them giving you a size two for you to wear around the city. Not a size twelve.”

  Jessica caught April’s shoulders and flipped her around to face herself in the mirror. “When you walk out in this, that’s a better advertisement than I could ever give them.”

  April bit her bottom lip before she remembered the lipstick she was messing up. Even she had to admit that she looked good. The dress was amazingly flattering, and Jessica was a master with makeup. The charcoal gray eyeliner had looked drab in the palette, but somehow Jessica applied it in just the right way to make April’s dark eyes compete with the vibrant hue of the gown.

  Jessica adjusted how the tiny cap sleeves rested against April’s shoulders. “Just try not to spill wine on the dress. And make sure that when cameras start going off, you’re there.”

  “This designer knows it’s not a red carpet thing, right?”

  “Please,” Jessica said. “If Donald Hunt is going to be there with some new twenty-something on his arm, there are going to be cameras.”

  April’s eyes widened and she saw her reflection pale. “You don’t think—”

  “I don’t think—I know. But don’t worry about that. Blogs and gossip rags love to speculate about that crap, but none of it affects you. Unless you make outings with the richest man in the city a normal thing, no one is going to dwell on this one night for too long.”

  The words comforted April a bit, but the possibilities zoomed through her mind. “Even if I do look better than normal, I hardly look like the type to be dating billionaires. Maybe they’ll think I’m a relative.”