Beauty and the Boss - MINK Page 0,6
to lunch with my assistant? I stab the plate so hard I knock the flower off the tray.
Snagging it off my desk, I frown at the white rose. Georgia. It has her all over it. The thought to place it with my lunch, the smile on her face as she delivered it. I intend to make that smile disappear soon enough. This Friday, in fact, she’ll be on my arm for the charity gala thrown by her father every year at the opera house. That’s where I’ll show him his pride and joy now turned into my underling.
I lick my lips. Maybe I could do more with her than simply employ her. Not because I want her, of course, but because I want Duncan Lavine to suffer. If he knew I was putting it to his daughter, that might make my coup even more thorough.
Too bad Georgia’s not my type. Her smiling cuteness isn’t the sort of thing a man like me chases after. I sniff the air, catching her scent again, then breathe it in more deeply. Sweet and tantalizing. That’s what she is. And no, of course I don’t want her on her knees right now sucking me off as she looks up at me with her big, sparkling eyes. That’s ridiculous.
No, having her in my employ is enough. I don’t have to take this any further. No need. I spear another vegetable when my phone begins to ring.
And ring.
And ring.
Georgia didn’t forward my calls. I pull my napkin from my lap, dab my lips, and fold the fabric into a neat rectangle.
I know what needs to be done. It’s crystal clear. It’s perfectly professional and not at all tawdry or born of desire. No, this is discipline, and I’ll mete it out shortly.
She’s back. I can hear her just outside my office doors. She walks with a sassy gait, her hips swinging, her backside perfect in her almost-too-tight skirt. I’ve already memorized her footsteps.
I press my finger to her button on my phone. “Ms. Lavine, come to my office.” Rising from my chair, I straighten my tie and walk around my desk.
She opens the door and hurries in. No knock.
“Yes, Mr. Baxter?” She’s breathless, as if she ran down the hall to make it back to her desk before the hour for lunch had elapsed. She made it, though, with a minute and some change.
“Did you read the instructions on how my office is run?” I walk toward her, enjoying the view as her nipples harden.
“Yes. Three times.” She puts a hand to her cheek as I approach.
I step around her and turn the lock on my door. “Three times?”
“Yes.” She looks at me over her shoulder. “Why? Was something wrong with your lunch?”
Innocence flows from her, the wide-eyed way she watches me, the faint pink on her cheeks, the way she stands in her demure heels. How did my enemy create such a pure beauty? Surely, it’s a trick.
“My lunch was fine. It was the phone that was wrong, Ms. Lavine.”
She gasps. “Oh, no! I didn’t forward the calls. I’m so sorry. I won’t let that happen ag--”
“Shh.” I walk past her, anticipation throbbing in my veins. “It was a mistake.”
“Yes.” She nods and follows me toward my desk.
“An error.” I rub my palms together.
“Yes,” she readily agrees. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I turn to her and pat the top of my desk. “No need for it.”
“Really?” She looks at my hand, her angelic face twisting a bit in confusion. “You aren’t mad?”
“No. Not mad. But this does call for discipline.”
“Oh, no.” She hangs her head. “A note in my file. It’s my first day, and I already have a mark on my record.” Her chin trembles.
“I thought that might be too harsh for this infraction.” I try to sound concerned, though I doubt I pull it off.
“Yes, please don’t do that.” She steps back. “I mean, if you have to, I understand. But I really wish you wouldn’t. This is my first job, and I really want to do good work for you.”
“I’ve come up with another solution.” I point to the desk. “Hands here.”
She looks at my desk. “What?”
“Hands here.” I step back to give her room.
“Put my hands on your desk?” She cocks her head as if she misheard me. She didn’t.
“Yes.” I cross my arms. “But if you’d prefer a note in your file, I can always--”
“No.” She steps forward and puts her hands on my desk.
So naïve. Does she truly