Ruthless Boss Page 2

  “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Veronica. This is Edna, and this is Kitty.” She points to her companions. Edna looks a little older, but still stunning with chin length wavy, dark hair with a distinctive silver streak. Kitty has long chestnut hair that hangs down to her significant bosom. The women all nod their greetings.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” I reply.

  “You work for Drake Gallagher?” Veronica asks.

  “That must be nice—at least on the eyes,” Edna chimes in with a refined air.

  “Mmmhmm,” Kitty agrees with a wink.

  I blink at them, unsure how to respond.

  “Let me guess. He underestimates you,” Veronica says.

  “Yes, he does.”

  “Men.” Edna shakes her head. “They hardly ever recognize the brilliance in front of them.”

  “I don’t always mind being underestimated,” Kitty shares with a sassy smile. “It makes it so much sweeter when I win.”

  “Don’t let him keep you from reaching your potential.” Veronica gives me a sharp look that has me straightening my shoulders.

  With less than five minutes of conversation, I officially have three new crushes. These are the type of women I want to be. I find myself loving the conversation we have over the next hour. Each of them is a successful investor with a large portfolio and a history of coming out on top.

  When I leave the dinner later that night, I’m even more determined to take action toward my dreams. These women, my new role models, showed me that I can.

  Earlier in the evening, I collected a number of business cards from industry professionals. Maybe it’s time to give one of them a call and see what kind of opportunities the world has for me. And if I get to show Drake what he’s missing as a bonus, that’s fine too.

  ◆◆◆

  “Miriam, I was surprised to hear from you. I didn’t think your boss would ever let you off the leash.” Drake’s ex-business partner and long-time rival sits across from me. Michael Nelson has his dirty blonde hair slicked back, an oversized watch on his wrist, and slouches in his chair like a teenage boy trying to act cool.

  Without the crowd of the investment dinner to offer a distraction, it takes me zero-point-three seconds to recognize Michael as a certified douche.

  We’re at Grinders, a coffee shop downtown that was featured in the local magazine last week. It’s hip, expensive, and quickly becoming the place to go if you want to be seen. He chose the location.

  “When we last spoke, you mentioned a business opportunity.” I ignore his statement about a leash. Honestly, with that one statement he disqualified himself from ever working with me. But we’re here, we have drinks in front of us, and I may as well do what I came here to do—network.

  Michael takes a long sip of his drink and gives my outfit—at least I hope it’s my outfit—a once over. I’m wearing a deep purple pencil skirt with a fitted cream-colored blouse. My hair is up; I’m trying to look a little older and more professional.

  “I’ve heard about you around town, that you have some assets that someone in my position could find extremely valuable.” He strokes his chin. The man is a complete stereotypical douche in the worst way.

  “What assets are those?” I ask, hoping for something about my education or executive skills. I’ve been working hard to create a favorable reputation for myself. Some feedback from someone other than Drake, even if it’s this scumbag, could be valuable.

  “I’ve heard that you take excellent care of… your clients.”

  Ugh. I’m done. The only client I currently have is Drake, and the only services he receives from me are firmly within my job description.

  Thankful that I ordered my drink in a to-go cup, I decide to make nice for a moment. It’s important not to burn bridges in this industry. “I appreciate your feedback,” I give him an empty smile. “Thank you for meeting with me. I’ll need to think over some things. Right now, I’m exploring my options but not making any firm decisions about my future.”

  “Anytime, babe.” He smirks at me as I grab my purse and stand up. “You have my number.”

  “Thank you for your time,” I repeat. God, I am so ready to get out of here. There’s obviously a reason Drake doesn’t get along with Michael. In all my years with Drake, he has never made me feel like an object. He treats men and women with the same level of respect. It’s only with me that he breaks out of character.

  If anything, with me, he’s overly cautious. If it weren’t stunting my career growth, I might find it flattering. But I knew this path would be a challenge when I chose it. I know I’m capable. I’m not going to allow my sexy, overprotective boss keep me from achieving my dreams.

  As my heels click on the sidewalk downtown, I do what I told Michael I would do—consider my options. Michael isn’t the only contact I made at the Annual Investment Dinner. Maybe tomorrow I’ll make a few more phone calls.

  Chapter 4

  Drake

  “I just thought it would be something you wanted to know about.” The mid level executive nearly whines into the phone. It isn’t even eight in the morning and he’s the sixth person this morning to contact me about Miriam’s coffee date with Michael. I’ve had four calls and two texts, and I haven’t even checked my email yet.

  “I’m sure your motives are purely selfless,” I say, sarcasm heavy in my voice.

  “I knew you would appreciate a call,” the idiot replies, completely missing the point. “I’ll just send you a quick email so if you have any more questions or want to set up some kind of business arrangement, I’m easy to reach.”

  “You do that.” I hang up without saying goodbye. If I don’t already have his email filtered out, I’ll need that taken care of immediately.

  With an exasperated sigh, I pinch the bridge of my nose. The entire morning has poked at my temper, and I wasn’t calm to begin with. Ever since the investment dinner, I’ve been unable to keep Miriam out of my mind. She looked like a goddess, made to tempt mere mortals. Only I hadn’t felt that out of control in ages.

  The way her dress fit should be a crime. Plump, luscious curves covered in smooth, fiery silk. Initially, I’d been surprised by the depth of my response. Miriam and I have worked together for years. She’s always been an attractive woman, but she was only twenty-three years old when she started. A brilliant mind, a gorgeous body, and nine years younger than me.

  Miriam was too young, too naive, and too earnest for me to consider that way, at least for more than a moment here and there. I may be ruthless in business, but I’ve always had some scruples, and taking advantage of young women is where I draw the line.

  But she didn’t look young and innocent the other night. She looked like a succulent peach, ripe and ready to be devoured.

  Damn if I was going to let Michael think he could pluck that fruit. I may have been a bit slow when it came to seeing Miriam’s full potential, but once I see a golden opportunity, I never let it pass me by. And with her intelligence, drive, and beauty, Miriam is finally going to see how ruthless I can get when it comes to claiming and protecting what’s mine.

  When Miriam comes in to work a few minutes later, I already have a plan in mind.

  “Good morning, Mr. Gallagher.”

  “Good morning, Miriam.” She’s wearing one of her regular work outfits, some kind of brightly colored sweater and skirt set, belted at the waist. She looks exactly the same as normal, but still somehow completely different to me. I find myself noticing her red lipstick, the same shade she wore that night. The gentle curves of her legs; I want to start at the bottom and run my mouth up them until I find her delicious heat.

  “What’s the plan for today, sir?” she asks, as she does every morning.

  “The same as usual, except for one thing.”

  “Yes?” She holds her tablet and stylus, ready to make a change to the calendar.

  “I’d like you to join me for lunch today.” With eyes like a hawk, I wait for her reaction. I’m not disappointed. />
  Miriam’s chin jerks up, her hazel eyes widen in surprise, and her cheeks flush. “Me?” she asks, eyebrows raised. “But you already have a lunch meeting scheduled.”

  “And I’d like you to be a part of it.”

  She double checks the calendar. “You want me to have lunch with you, Maximillian Hawthorne, Losev Turgenev, and Andrej Novak,” she says flatly. “Are you kidding?”

  “No, I’m not kidding. We’re considering working on a project together. We’ll be discussing it today at lunch. I think you could provide some valuable contributions. I’m aware that you’ve had a meeting with Michael Nelson. I’d like the chance to show you what kind of opportunities I can offer.”

  “Mr. Gallagher—”

  “Call me Drake,” I interrupt.

  “Drake, then.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re having lunch with the Oakwood Boys. They’re the biggest business moguls in the city. I’ve never even been introduced to them. Are you sure it’s a good idea for me to be there?”

  “Of course it’s a good idea. It’s my idea, isn’t it?” I can’t hold back my grin any longer. The way she’s huffing in her sweater makes me want to rip it off her and see how many ways I can make her pant.

  “Miriam. This is primarily a brainstorming session. Just getting the ideas out,” I interrupt. “You are smart, ambitious, and creative. Of course you deserve to be there.”

  She takes a deep breath, shoulders straightening. “Thank you, Mr. Gall—”

  “Drake.”

  “Thank you, Drake. What time should I be ready?”

  “I’ll come by your office at eleven thirty.”

  ◆◆◆

  Walking into Le Clocher with Miriam at my side feels as right as any investment I’ve ever made. She’s classy, beautiful, and I’m looking forward to showing her off to my friends.

  The restaurant is dark but warm, with twinkling lights lining the walls and windows, and a lot of hanging plants creating the illusion of an outdoor space. The host leads us to a private booth near a window. My friends are already seated, but they stand up when they see that I’ve brought a guest.

  “Gentlemen, this is Miriam Delgado. I hope you don’t mind, I invited her to join us. Miriam, this is Losev, Max, and Andrej.”

  We finish the introductions and exchange pleasantries, then sit down. My friends chat amongst themselves for a moment while Miriam peruses the menu.

  “Would you like me to order for you?” I lean over and whisper in her ear. The poor girl probably doesn’t understand what she’s reading. The entire menu is in French.

  “Oh. No, thank you,” she says as her gaze skims over the entrees. When the server comes to take our orders a few minutes later, I’m ready to jump in to help.

  “Madam,” he addresses Miriam first.

  “She’ll have the—”

  “Ahem,” she interrupts, drawing the attention of my friends. “Je voudrais le bouchée à la reine, s'il vous plaît,” she orders in perfect French.

  When the server turns to me, it takes me a moment to collect myself. My friends chuckle as I place my order with my terrible French. Here, I thought I would impress her, and instead I’m the one being schooled.

  “I didn’t know you spoke French,” I say quietly.

  “You should,” she replies tartly. “It was on my resume.”

  Hiding a grin, I lean back into my seat. Little does she know, her intelligence is a huge turn on. Every time I see a new side of Miriam, I want her a little more.

  Once everyone has placed their order, we begin the discussion on our project, a new skyscraper going up downtown called Center City. It will be the biggest, most ambitious project any of us have taken on yet.

  “We can be ready to break ground in a few months,” Andrej says, “assuming all the permits and finances come through.” Max assures everyone that his contacts at City Hall are ready to push everything through, while Losev—the biggest investor in the project—looks to me for the financials.

  Initially, Miriam observes quietly, hazel eyes sharp with interest. By the time we’re served, she’s offering small but clever contributions.

  My chest swells with pride, watching the men respond to her. They take her seriously. With each minute that passes, her confidence grows.

  “You’ve made some interesting points, Miriam,” Max states. “I’d like to discuss some of them in further detail at a later date.” He holds out his business card. She takes it, her hand visibly trembling.

  “Take mine as well.” Andrej does the same, and Losev follows suit. These are three of the city’s hardest men to impress, and Miriam has swept them all off their feet.

  “Thank you. I’ll give you a call.” Her voice comes out a little breathier than usual. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.” She stands a little shakily, takes a breath, and walks to the back of the restaurant.

  My friends turn to me, eyes sharp. “What’s your game, Gallagher?” Andrej asks.

  “What game?”

  “She’s smart. She’s quick. But what is she doing here?” he follows up.

  “She’s been wanting to get some more experience in the industry, and I thought this would be a good way for her to dip her toes in the water.” I shrug nonchalantly.

  “I, for one, applaud your strategy,” Maximilian drawls, eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. “I think it’s a genius idea to bring your brilliant assistant to lunch. It is so much easier to poach once one has an introduction.”

  Andrej and Losev chuckle. My jaw clenches, possessiveness racing through me. “You will not poach her.”

  “Oh?” Max questions, one eyebrow raised.

  “She’s mine.” I’m almost growling, but I don’t care.

  With a satisfied smile, Max relaxes into his seat. “That’s what I thought.”

  Awareness of his verbal trap trickles through my fury. “Very funny, Max.” I take a drink of water to cool myself down. “She already had coffee with Michael a few days ago.”

  “Michael Nelson?” Losev asks.

  “Yes,” I confirm. “I don’t know what they discussed, but I’m not letting him get his hands on her.”

  Back in the office that afternoon, I sit behind my wide, mahogany desk with dozens of emails competing for my attention, but I find myself instead staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the busy city streets as I reflect on the success of the day. Miriam legitimately glowed as she recapped the entire meal while we drove back to the office.

  “And then Max said, ‘That’s a good idea,’” she gushes. “The Maximillian Hawthorne thought I had a good idea.”

  “I’m the one who invited you,” I grumble, but without any real ire. She killed it today. I just want to get a tiny bit of the credit. The Maximillian Hawthorne isn’t her boss, after all.

  While we waited for the elevator in the parking garage, she turned to me without any artifice and gave me a hug. “Thank you for today.”

  It didn’t take more than a second to realize she felt like heaven in my arms. Or maybe not heaven, but a fallen angel—all the innocence and purity, but with hidden depths of sensuousness and passion. A woman who chooses to work in this industry, to work with me, has a fire and drive that I want in my life and in my bed.

  My computer dings, notifying me of a new email and drawing my focus away from lascivious daydreams and back to work.

  It’s an email from Michael. The subject line says, “Got Miriam?”

  Bastard. I click and start reading, my fury growing with every line.

  “Hello old friend, Did you hear about my date with your assistant? You certainly know how to pick them. I’d like her assistance with any number of things. You’d better keep an eye on her. You never know who might be waiting to pounce.”

  Son of a bitch. If Michael thinks he can talk about my woman that way, he’s got another thing coming. The next time I see him, I’m going to kick his ass. And if he tries to hurt Miriam in any way, he’ll find out exactly why people call me ruthless
.

  Chapter 5

  Miriam

  That night, with cosmopolitan in hand, I settle into my sofa. As soon as I relax, my cat Dixon joins me. He’s my constant companion. He always greets me at the door when I get home and will follow me from room to room when I'm home.

  I adopted Dixon from a local humane society. They told me he'd been found locked in an empty house with no food or water. Apparently, his family had moved, leaving him there alone. Thankfully the realtor went to the home to check it out earlier than expected, otherwise he may have starved before he was found.

  My phone rings and Amara’s name pops up. I’d called her after Drake invited me to lunch—I’d needed someone to process the news with—and I’m sure she’s calling now to see how everything went.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  There’s some talking in the background; it sounds like she’s getting her son, Josiah, settled, so I wait until she comes back on the line. “Miriam, hey! I wanted to see how lunch went.”

  “It was amazing,” I gush, running my hand along Dixon’s back. I tell her about how they included me in their conversation and were receptive to my input.

  Lunch with the Oakwood Boys was just a tiny taste of what my life could be like when I achieve the success I’ve been dreaming of. Eating at fancy restaurants, working together on projects that have the potential to change lives, finally being taken seriously. I’m already addicted and I want more.

  “And how are things with Drake?” she asks.

  I try to put my feelings into words. “Drake is still himself.” I sigh. “He’s ridiculously attractive. Did I tell you I saw him only halfway dressed the other day? I almost drooled all over his abs.”

  “Girl,” Amara laughs.

  “He’s got this streak of honor that is so damn sexy. He can be ruthless about getting what he wants, but he never crosses the line. Sometimes I wish he would turn that attention my way.”