How to Have Your Boss's Secret Baby - London Casey Page 0,3

against me. “You know I love it when you’re mad at me, darling.”

Maggie elbowed me. “I better get a big fucking tip for this.”

“That’s all you want? Just the tip?”

She looked back at me.

She smiled.

I winked.

For the record, I did not like Maggie at all. I didn’t care about her. I wasn’t going to fall for her. We were never going to get married or have kids or tell some wild romantic story of how I was a rich douchebag, she was a bartender and we fell in love.

Our respect for each other was my good looks and her orgasms.

Hate me yet?

Good.

Mr. Pickle may have had a goofy name, but nothing was goofy about his bank account. Or his sway in business mergers and acquisitions.

I was the big bad boss of a software company that my roommate started in college. I was far from some techy geek, but I knew the value of technology and what it could become. It took me years to grow the company and grow with it, finally sitting at the top.

Now my one goal was simple.

Sell the fucking thing.

Why?

Because competing in tech was a suicide mission.

It was far easier to sell off the company, cash in on more money than I could have ever dreamed of having, which would make everyone else rich in the company, including my old roommate, who lived in California and spent his days surfing and his nights hitting on single and lonely tourists.

There was one name at the top of my list to buy the company.

“Mr. Pickle,” I said. “You haven’t said much in the last few minutes.”

“Cole,” he said. “I think I’m drunk.”

I grinned.

It had been two hours since my meeting with Maggie, and she performed amazingly. She kept Mr. Pickle drinking. She flirted with him.

Mr. Pickle wasn’t the best looking man. His clothes were nicer than him. He had no problem giving off the allure of a rich asshole. He loved it. The giant, gold watch. The smell of his clothes. Or the fact that he spoke about how much money he had any chance he got.

When he got serious, his face narrowed. He had the look and appeal of a rattlesnake that had been annoyed.

None of it bothered me.

I knew the game.

I knew the dance.

And we were smack dab in the middle of it.

“I’m the same, Mr. Pickle,” I said. “I think our bartender here wants us drunk.”

I looked at Maggie as she slid another drink toward Mr. Pickle.

He looked at it. Then at her.

She shrugged her shoulders and batted her green eyes.

She was good.

Mr. Pickle laughed. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Maggie,” she said.

“Do you know how much I’m worth?”

“I think I’m more interested in something bigger than your balance sheet,” she said.

Mr. Pickle shook his head. “You’re nothing but trouble.”

Maggie put her hands out. “Arrest me.”

“If I put you in the handcuffs I have, you’re under my control,” Mr. Pickle joked. “I’m the judge, jury, and final say.”

“Do I look worried?” Maggie asked.

She winked and strutted away.

Mr. Pickle devoured her ass with his eyes.

He slowly looked at me. “I love women.”

“Agreed.”

“A bartender? Eh. That’s a little tricky. If you get someone too low on the financial level, they get clingy. I don’t need her gawking at my apartment or hotel or high rise, you know? I need her focused on my dick. I’ve had that happen. A beautiful woman, on her knees, her pouty lips on my dick… and she stops. Because she saw a chandelier.”

“Oh, that’s tough,” I said.

“It was a nice chandelier,” Mr. Pickle said. “But come on…”

“I get it,” I said. “Let’s set our sights somewhere else.”

“First, I need a little action,” he said with a wink.

Mr. Pickle reached for his phone and I touched his arm. “Allow me.”

I slipped my right hand into the inside pocket of my suit jacket and took out a small baggie with some pills in it.

Before anyone goes too crazy, welcome to the real world, darling. We’re rock stars with suits on. We know how to party. We know how to drink. We love to fuck women. And sometimes… it is what it is…

“Cole,” Mr. Pickle said. “How’d you know?”

“It’s my job to see the bigger picture of things,” I said.

“Glad I have another drink to wash it down,” Mr. Pickle said.

He smiled and his smile grew ear to ear.

Evil. Pure evil.

But the man had the money needed to buy the company.

“You know why I like you, Cole?” Mr. Pickle asked as he snuck a few pills into