I’m sharing the second scene from the first chapter of Fighting For My Billionaire Boss today.
Gretchen is his woman of the week: a tall, gorgeous, blonde actress sporting surgically enhanced breasts bigger than my head. They’re perfect, a thing of beauty, defying gravity and all other laws of science. I can’t help but stare at them every time she visits.
Gretchen doesn’t mind the gawking. Brick’s latest woman is, unfortunately, a drama whore, appearing in the tabloids at least once a week. I suspect that is the reason she’s considered for as many parts as she is. The studios know she’ll bring attention to any movie release she’s attached to.
Although Brick acts like he shuns the spotlight, he’s always drawn to this type of woman. And they’re drawn to him because he’s handsome, young, and a billionaire, the combination ensuring constant media buzz.
This is the first time I’ve heard of him indulging in sex games, though. The idea of my usually dominant boss being the submissive in a relationship, however short-lived, disturbs me. I thought I knew him. “I didn’t realize you were into that.”
“I’m not.” His lips twist. “I won’t be seeing Gretchen again.”
Yes, I inwardly cheer, keeping my expression as blank as I can manage. “Too bad. It would have been eight days today. She could have tied Trinity for the record.”
“Ha.” He doesn’t see the humor in this that I do. “What did you bring us for breakfast?”
“Scones.” I return to my side of the desk, take one out of the bag. “They’re blueberry.” The hope is that addition will make them more edible. I find a paper napkin, place the baked good on it, slide it toward him.
Brick’s permafrown deepens. He opens his mouth.
“Eat it,” I cut off his protests. “The Queen has scones every day.”
“She’s British. It’s expected.”
“You speak English. That’s almost British.” I ignore his eye-rolling. “Here is your coffee—black.” I push the disposable cup toward him.
He reaches for it, curling his long fingers around the cup. I want those fingers on me but that won’t ever happen, will it? I glower at the tray.
“Are you continuing the self-torture today, Miss Henderson?” Brick misinterprets the source of my unhappiness.
“If you’re asking if I ordered tea, I did,” I reply primly. “It’s an acquired taste and I plan to acquire it.” This is part of my continued quest to become more feminine, to make him see me as a woman. Once I’m successful, he’ll want me.
“You hate tea.”
“I’ll learn to love it.” I sit in one of the guest chairs. “I’ll also learn to love scones.” I extract my baked good from its brown paper wrapper and nibble on a corner of it. The blueberries don’t help with the taste. It’s still as dry and tasteless as cardboard.
“If you insist on drinking tea, you should drink it the right way.” Brick turns, retrieves a blue box from the shelf behind him, and sets it on the desk. “This is for you.”
“For me?” I wiggle with excitement. “But it isn’t even my birthday.”
“Not for another seven months and twenty-one days.”
I don’t ask why my boss is counting the days until my birthday. I’m too intrigued by the box before me. “I’m opening it.”
He dips his head.
I remove the lid. A dainty little teacup, white with pink carnations, is nestled inside. “How beautiful.”
“It’s beautiful and durable.” Brick’s eyes gleam. “It looks like fine china yet it won’t easily chip or break.”
Does he believe I’m too rough, too manlike to handle real fine china? Some of my joy dims. “It’s gorgeous.” I lift the teacup out of the box. “And there’s a matching saucer.” I look under it. “And a plate.”
“For your scone.” He sounds pleased with himself.
“For our scones.” I place both of them on the plate. “Did you buy a set for yourself?”
“I’m drinking coffee.”
“You can drink coffee out of a teacup.” I transfer my beverage. “We’ll start every day with a tea party.” Ladies have tea parties. I’m having a tea party. Therefore, I must be a lady. He’s intelligent. He’ll make that connection.
“We’re not having tea parties.” His grip on his ugly brown disposable cup tightens. “I’m your boss, your CEO.”
I gaze at him blankly, not knowing what that has to do with tea parties.
“A man,” Brick adds.
“Men can take part in tea parties.”
“Not straight men,” he mutters.
“Don’t worry.” I pat his arm. Joy zings through my body at that mere contact. “We’ll find you a masculine set, no flowers.” I retreat, clasping my cup, slumping back in my chair. “It’ll be wonderful.”
“Wonderful isn’t the word I’d use.” Brick’s gaze flicks to my sprawled bare legs. I sit straighter and primly close my knees. His lips twitch. “Why are you wearing multiple skirts?”
“They’re petticoats.” I fluff my full thigh-length skirt. “They’re very feminine.”
He grunts and drinks his coffee.
Okay. My skirt might be a little too frou-frou for the office. But the fitted blazer helps to offset it, giving my outfit more of a stuffy insurance company feel.
Brick breaks off a piece of his scone and pops it into his mouth. I do the same and cough. The damn thing is sucking the moisture from my mouth. I sip on my tea and wince. It’s flavored hot water.
“Why you torture yourself, I don’t know.” He shakes his head and devours more of the nasty baked good I inflicted upon him. My billionaire might grumble but he tolerates my culinary abuse.
We eat and drink in companionable silence. This is nice. It would be nicer if we were both naked and I was sitting on his lap, but he doesn’t see me that way. Not yet. I’ll take what I can get right now.
“You need a date for tonight’s gala,” I remind him.
Gretchen will want to be his date. The St. James Charity Gala is one of Toronto’s most important social events. Arriving on the arm of a dashing billionaire will ensure she gets the media attention she craves.
Before she returns, offering an insincere apology and making false promises, I have to make my move.
“If you’re stuck, I could accompany you,” I not-so-flippantly suggest.
Brick’s gaze flicks upward, meeting mine.
Say yes. Say yes. Say yes, I silently coax.
Read the next scene (available April 6th): http://tasteofcyn.com/2016/04/06/fighting-for-my-billionaire-boss-third-excerpt/
Subscribe To My Release Day Newsletter: http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/
Love is worth the fight.
My boss, Brick Armitage, is one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. He’s handsome, young, and the billionaire CEO of an online company. Brick dates stunning supermodels and famous actresses, the most beautiful women on the planet.
I’m determined to be the next woman he kisses, touches, pleases. To land the man I love, I’ll become the delicate lady he seems to prefer. No cussing. No sprawling over the furniture. No punching the pretty out of Brick’s trash-talking ex.
But when I fail at this and the footage of my brawling goes viral, will I lose my sophisticated billionaire forever, or will he realize a scrapper is exactly who he needs?
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