Bossy Temptation: Enemies to Lovers Romance Read online

  BOSSY TEMPTATION

  LOVE IN UNEXPECTED PLACES BOOK 2

  ELLA ARDEN

  Copyright © 2021 by Ella Arden

  All rights reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHLOE

  I knock softly on my boss’s door, hoping that he’s not on the phone. His scowl is always extra annoyed when I interrupt a call.

  “Come in.”

  I enter his office, relieved to see he’s just looking over some papers. But one glance tells me that he’s got a lot going on, his jacket off and shirt sleeves rolled up, his dark blonde hair a little messy, like he’s been running his hands through it. On his desk, there are two empty coffee mugs and an uneaten sandwich. All of these things are a huge red flag for my neat freak boss.

  This is where I proceed with caution.

  I tentatively approach his desk. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Decker, but I have the manuscript that Sherry sent over.” I hand it to him, then a second stack. “And here’s the first draft of the deal for Ms. Ortiz’s trilogy. Once you approve it, I’ll send a notice to her agent.”

  He sets both aside without looking at them. “It’s about time, I asked for that two days ago.”

  I’d only received it this morning but I’m not about to throw someone else under the bus. I say nothing.

  He turns back to his papers, a clear dismissal. But when I start to back out of the room, his voice stops me. “We’ll be staying late tonight. Deadlines don’t stop because of the weather.”

  On cue, the lights flicker ominously.

  Several people didn’t make it into the office today because of the huge storm sweeping through the city. There are power outages, fallen trees, even some flooding outside of the city limits. I don’t blame them for not coming in but it looks like Mr. Decker is determined to pick up their slack.

  I nod, knowing there’s nothing I can say—it wasn’t a question. I’m sure if I told him I had dinner plans with my mom, he’d laugh in my face.

  I leave the office and lean against the wall with a sigh. Now I have to call my mom and cancel dinner, and endure another rant about what a demanding, insensitive jerk my boss is. As if I’m not already aware.

  Maybe a text is a better idea than calling.

  “Everything okay?” my co-worker and friend, Brad, asks from his desk a few feet away. He’s positioned closest to me in the office and as such, decided it’s his job to look out for me while I get the hang of everything. On days like today, it's nice to feel like I have someone on my side.

  I go over to him, leaning against his desk warily. “Peachy. Apparently I’m staying late with the boss tonight, my previous plans be damned.”

  He grimaces. “I do not envy you. They really should have given you a disclaimer when you applied here—job duties include taking care of one boss with no human emotions and unreasonable expectations.”

  I laugh, knowing I still would have accepted.

  Being Mr. Decker’s secretary isn’t necessarily glamorous, but it’s a good step towards my dream of working as a literary agent for the biggest publishing company in the city. Supposedly, he’s next in line to be promoted to CEO and has a direct connection to the owner. So, I fetch his coffee and manage his paperwork, send out his emails and notices, all while making connections with everyone I can within the company. Hopefully, down the road, it won’t be too hard to move into a real position.

  My dream is to be a literary agent, but at this point, I’ll take a low level copy editor or marketer. Anything to get me out from under my grumpy boss.

  I’ve only been here two weeks and it feels like forever. Nothing I do is ever good enough for him, his constant unimpressed looks and frustrated muttering already wearing me down. Everyone in the office gives him a wide berth and tries to stay out of his direct line of sight.

  I’ll admit, I was a bit excited when I first saw him. Mr. Decker is painfully attractive—suits perfectly tailored to show off his muscular physique, thick blonde hair, dark eyes with long lashes—and most of the women in the office check him out every time he leaves his office. I naively thought I was lucky to be working so closely with such a hot boss.

  His attitude quickly proved me wrong.

  “It’s fine,” I tell Brad, trying to sound positive. “I’ll just bust ass tonight and maybe if we get a lot done, he’ll be in a better mood tomorrow.”

  The look he gives me is sympathetic, borderline pitying. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

  “Not helping.”

  He grins. “Sorry, I’m just glad it’s not me. I’m not half as pretty as you so I doubt he’d be as nice to me.”

  I snort in amusement. “Nice? I don’t even know what that is anymore.”

  Brad opens his mouth then glances over my shoulder and snaps it shut, eyes going wide. I turn around and find Mr. Decker watching us from his open door and he does not look pleased.

  “Shit,” I mutter under my breath. I give Brad an apologetic look before walking over to my boss.

  “I didn’t realize it was your break already,” he says and I flush. It’s not and he knows it.

  “I apologize,” I tell him stiffly, hoping my face isn’t as red as it feels. “I was just—”

  He hands me a stack of papers, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Send this over to the marketing team and tell them I want revisions first thing in the morning. And then remind Mr. Smith that I’m not paying him to chat all day and he’s already behind on his latest report.”

  We both know Brad can hear him and there’s no need for me to pass along any message.

  “Of course.” I take the papers and make myself smile. I’m a professional, damn it, and I’ll act like it even if I want to kick my boss in the leg. “Anything else?”

  He stares at me for a long second, his dark eyes unreadable. The full force of his attention makes my heart race.

  “No.” He closes the door without another word.

  I give Brad another apologetic look and go to sit down at my desk.

  Great. Just great.

  Now that I’m dreading staying late with Mr. Decker even more, the rest of the evening flies by. I’m careful to focus on my work and the next time I look at the clock, it’s five and the office is clearing out.

  “Good luck,” Brad murmurs at me as he leaves.

  Yeah, I’m going to need it.

  When everyone else leaves, I go and knock on Mr. Decker’s office door, opening it when he says, “Yes?”

  “Everyone’s gone home for the evening and I just wrapped up the emails to marketing. What can I help you with?”

  He gestures for me to sit in the chair across from him and once I do, he sets a huge stack of papers in front of me. “These need to be sorted by date. Oldest at the bottom.”

  I nod and get started. We work in silence, an awkward sort of tension in the air. I can’t help but sneak peeks at him as I work, at his clenched jaw and the muscles of his forearms where his sleeves are rolled up. He has the type of hands that women imagine dancing across their naked skin, and I’m, sadly, no exception.

&nb
sp; There’s no world where I would ever put the moves on my boss, but I wish that he at least wasn’t such a grump so I don’t have to feel bad thinking about it. Not seriously, of course, but my mind can’t help but wander when I’m around him.

  He clears his throat and for a split second, I’m terrified that he’s caught me staring.

  “While you’re here, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you,” he says. “I’d like to remind you of the company’s complete ban on workplace relationships. This, of course, does include relationships between co-workers.”

  I’m beyond confused. “I’m well aware, I was given all of the policies to go over when I was hired.” And I read them all very carefully. Once an overachiever, always an overachiever.

  His eyes meet mine, dark and serious. “Perhaps then, Mr. Smith is the one who needs a reminder.”

  What is he—?

  My face gets hot as I put two and two together. “Mr. Decker, I’m not sure why you think that Brad—sorry, Mr. Smith—and I are in a relationship, but I can promise you, that is not the case. We are co-workers and friends, nothing more. I would never risk my job in that way.”

  He considers me for a long second. “I apologize then. You spend so much time at his desk that I thought there might be something more going on.”

  Really? He’s doing this to me because of earlier? Talk about petty.

  Now I’m mad.

  “On occasion,” I say, struggling to keep my tone even, “I will have a conversation with Mr. Smith about work. Nothing more.”

  “And you often spend your lunch breaks with him.”

  I nearly choke in surprise. “Excuse me? Are you…are you watching me?” Sure, I eat lunch with Brad most days, but also with half of the others in the office. We all go on break at the same time and it’s been a good way to get to know everyone here. “Last I checked, there’s no policy against having lunch with your co-workers.”

  I can’t believe him. The balls on him, to accuse me of something so stupid and unprofessional, all because I had a two second chat with someone instead of marching right back to my desk like a robot employee. And with Brad, of all people. I couldn’t be less interested in him.

  “You know what,” I continue, “if you’re so determined for there to be an issue, file a report. I’ll be more than happy to dispute it and speak with HR about the completely professional relationship I have with a co-worker. I have nothing to hide.”

  There’s a sharp edge to my voice that I really should pull back but I’m pissed. How dare he. I’m two seconds away from throwing my paperwork in his face and stomping out of here.

  There’s a long second of silence and I refuse to look at him.

  “Chloe—”

  “That’s Ms. Johnson,” I interrupt him. “Only my friends call me Chloe.”

  Oh my God, what am I saying? If I had even thought about talking like this to my boss before now, I would have passed out. But, damn him, he has no right to talk to me like he is. My mom would be proud of me.

  My curt correction makes him smile and I’m so surprised, I forget that I’m pissed. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile before. It makes his whole face different; still handsome but younger, more boyish. My heart starts to pound in my chest.

  “Ms. Johnson,” he corrects himself, still smiling slightly. “I’m sorry for my assumptions. I believe you and I won’t be filing a report. The truth is, I enjoy having you as my secretary. You’re the best one I’ve had in years and I hate the thought of losing you over a company policy.”

  I blink in surprise. This is the first nice thing he’s said about my work and it leaves me flustered. “I, uh, I’m glad to hear it. That you think I’m a good secretary, I mean.” I smooth my hands over my skirt, suddenly nervous to look at him. “I meant what I said, I would never risk this job like that. Mr. Smith is honestly just a friend.”

  He nods and turns back to his paperwork, apparently done with the conversation. Just like that.

  I left out a quiet breath, dizzy from what just happened. In shock that he didn’t fire me after how I spoke to him. Maybe miracles do exist.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HOLDEN

  I hate how relieved I am that Chloe denied having a relationship with that idiot, Brad Smith. He’s lucky he’s fairly competent at his job most days or I’d find an excuse to get rid of him first thing tomorrow.

  I don’t like the way she looks at him, the way he makes her laugh and relax around him. Then again, he doesn’t have to be her boss.

  I try to focus on my paperwork, knowing it’s getting later and later. But Chloe keeps distracting me, brushing her auburn hair over her shoulder, letting out a soft hum of consideration, tapping her pen against her full lips. Having her stay late with me is proving to be more detrimental than helpful to my looming deadline.

  “Here you go,” she says, passing over the stack of papers I gave her. “All sorted, oldest on the bottom.”

  A light fragrance wafts up from her wrist—something sweet and floral, freesia maybe—making my cock twitch in my pants. She smells divine.

  “Thank you.” I take the paperwork, resisting the urge to brush her fingers with mine.

  These last two weeks have been a personal hell for me. I was told a new secretary had been hired and when I walked in to find her bent over her desk in a tight black pencil skirt, setting out a potted plant and a picture of her dog, I’d stopped dead in my tracks. Things only got worse when she noticed me and hurried over to shake my hand, her gorgeous red-brown hair in soft waves and cheeks pink.

  It feels like a cruel joke. Chloe Johnson is the sort of woman I would stop my car in the middle of the street for and get out to ask on a date if I saw her on the sidewalk—and that’s before I knew how smart and competent and kind she was. And here she is, bringing me coffee and reports, strutting around the office with her enticing laugh and big brown eyes.

  “Mr. Decker?” she says in that way that never fails to get me hard. “I asked if there’s anything else you’d like me to do?”

  I can think of a million things.

  “No, thank you.” Outside, the wind is howling and the rain is still coming down in a torrent. The lights have been flickering on and off with increasing frequency for the last hour and I don’t like the idea of keeping her much longer so she’ll have to drive home in the dark. “I think we’ll call it a night.”

  I feel a pang of guilt when she looks relieved. She’s made it clear that she’s not the type to complain but working these long hours would start to wear on anyone.

  We take a few minutes to file away the finished paperwork and she jots down a few notes for the morning. I meet her out at her desk, watching as she gathers her bag and jacket, then bends over to shut a drawer.

  That has to be the most perfectly heart-shaped ass on any woman.

  “After you.” I gesture her into the elevator and follow, punching the button for the first floor. The doors slide shut and I feel the slightest shift as we start to descend. “Are you comfortable driving in this weather? I can call you a ride or take you home if you’re worried.”

  There’s no mistaking the surprise in her eyes. “Oh, thank you, I’d—”

  The elevator goes black and lurches to a halt. Chloe stumbles but I catch her before she can fall, the heat of her body against mine for a brief second.

  “What—” The emergency light panels along the top of the elevator come on, bathing us in a dim yellow glow.

  “The power must have gone out.” I let go of her to push at the buttons but they’re unresponsive. The emergency phone is below it and when I press the call button, the light goes red.

  “Hello?” an uncertain voice answers a few seconds later. I recognize it as Dan, the security guard downstairs.

  “This is Holden Decker,” I say into the speaker. “The elevator seems to have shut down with us in it. Did we lose power?”

  “Yes sir, and it looks like everyone around us did too,” he answers. “The whole street is
black, maybe this whole side of the city. I’ll call it in but you’re going to be stuck until the fire department gets here.”

  Beside me, Chloe takes a shaking breath.

  I know there’s nothing we can do. “Thank you, Dan, let us know if you have an ETA.”

  “Will do,” he crackles, then goes silent.

  Chloe’s eyes are wide, her mouth pressed into a tight line.

  “It’s okay,” I reassure her. “This happened once a few years ago and the fire department didn’t take long to get here. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  She stands up straighter. “I’m not worried.”

  Of course not. She’s tough, something I admire about her.

  I sigh and shrug out of my jacket, folding it neatly before sitting on the floor. “You might as well get comfortable, we’ll be here for a bit.”

  She eyes the floor then joins me, folding her legs awkwardly beneath her in her tight skirt. Her jacket and purse join mine and with a groan, she leans her head back to rest against the wall of the elevator. She mutters something under her breath too quietly for me to make out.

  “What’s that?”

  She waves me away. “Nothing. I’m just not surprised my already awful day ended this way. Figures.” She sounds upset. Tired.

  I nod. “Most days, working here isn’t easy. This isn’t a job for everyone.”

  Her eyes narrow from across the small space. “No offense, but we have completely different jobs. I highly doubt your struggles are the same as mine.”

  She has a point. “True, I suppose I don’t know what it’s like to be a secretary and have to work directly underneath someone all day. Frustrating, I’d imagine.”

  “You have no idea,” she says, then bites her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine. I’ve worked here long enough to know what my employees think of me.”

  And I do. It’s not like I enjoy having to be a hardass but this company and the responsibilities that come with it are more than most realize. Especially for me, having such a large role in the family business where I’m expected to put every bit of my time and energy into it. It’s exhausting, it's lonely, and some days, I’m tempted to call it quits. I never wanted my life to be all about work but here I am.