I’m sharing the third scene from the first chapter of Fighting For My Billionaire Boss today.
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Henderson.” He tosses the last piece of scone into his mouth and chews. “I’ll find a date. Someone will want the exposure.”
“Someone does.” I’m that someone. I gaze at him, trying to drive that thought into his thick head.
“Hmmm…” He picks up his tablet, signaling the end of the tea party and our conversation.
Shit. I place the faux china on a side table for the cleaning staff to take care of. “Back to work, I go, your faithful assistant.” Destined to never be more than that.
He doesn’t look up. I slink toward the door, dejected.
“Miss Henderson?”
Joy bursts within me. He’s changed his mind, has decided to ask me.
“Yes?” I turn.
Brick continues to gaze at his screen. “Update your media training.”
“I take media training every six months.” And he never allows me to use it, forbidding me to speak to the press.
“Increase that to every three months.”
Fuck. I stomp out of the office. He’ll never ask me to be his date.
A vase of pink carnations is set on a corner of my desk. My top lip curls. Brick gives them to me every week, which would be sweet, except he gives his ladies of the week roses and orchids and other superbly feminine flowers.
I receive sturdy, long-lasting carnations. Because that’s how he sees me—sturdy, long-lasting, durable. I jut out my jaw, even more resolute to figure out the girl world, to become a woman he’d desire.
The morning creeps along. I reply to messages, monitor the flow of people in and out of Brick’s office, supply him with the information he needs for these meetings.
Gossip flies around the floor after that first meeting. Everyone speculates on how our boss got the scratches on his face. Chanelle’s comments are extra loud and directed my way.
I don’t rise to the bait, refusing to contribute to the talk, even though that’s exactly what Gretchen or Trinity or any of Brick’s exes would have done. My boss trusts me to remain silent, to keep our conversations confidential. I would never betray him.
At 11:15 a.m., Tammy at reception calls me, warning that Gretchen is on her way to see Brick, relaying that she’s in a foul mood.
The actress will be even more pissed off when she sees me. Brick has a meeting in his office until noon. She’ll have to wait to talk with him.
I message my boss, keeping him informed.
He won’t be disturbed if she does make a fuss. Requiring a space for his extremely confidential meetings and phone calls, my favorite CEO had his office soundproofed.
A ripple of excitement flows through the cubicles, announcing the actress’s arrival. She glides between the gray fabric-covered walls, each step placed directly in front of the other. I gaze at her, open with my admiration.
That walk is more difficult than it looks. I know. I’ve practiced for hours at home in front of the mirror and I still have too much bounce in my gait.
Gretchen is not only graceful. She’s damn beautiful, her hard, green eyes glittering with self-righteous fury. There isn’t a freckle or blemish on her tanned skin. Her golden-blonde hair fans her high cheekbones and defined chin. The bright-red lipstick on her full, pouty lips matches her skintight dress.
She’s womanly perfection. I can’t blame Brick for lusting after the actress. If I were a man, I’d fuck her.
Gretchen isn’t alone. Her publicist, a narrow-eyed weasel of a man, trails behind her. The woman rarely goes anywhere without him.
Today, he’s her designated bag holder, the actress’s camel-colored tote clutched in his spindly fingers.
I suppress my snide remarks and stand, feeling even more unfeminine than I usually do. “He’s in a meeting, Miss Gretchen.” The woman has no last name.
“I’m not here to see Brick Armitage.” She braces her feet apart, showing off her long, tanned legs. Her publicist scurries around her. Gretchen glances at him and then back at me. “I’m here to see you.”
She wants to see me. A warm glow of happiness fills my soul. “I—”
“I thought you were my friend.” Lines appear between her eyebrows.
I blink. She considers me to be her friend? We haven’t spoken more than a dozen sentences to each other.
“You know how I feel about him.” She waves her beautifully manicured hands at Brick’s office door. “You know I love him, have loved him desperately, crazily, since the first day I saw him.”
My forehead furrows. Is she referring to my boss? Because the first day she saw him wasn’t very long ago.
“He’s in my heart.” She slaps her chest with her right palm. “In my soul.” Gretchen glances at her publicist. He nods. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
A crowd gathers around us, everyone as captivated as I am by the passion in the actress’s voice. I never knew she cared so much for my boss.
This won’t stop me from wanting him but it is good information to have.
“That you betrayed me…” She gazes at me, accusations in her green eyes.
“I didn’t betray you.” I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“How can you say that?” she asks.
The publicist turns his entire body, facing me.
“Because I haven’t.” Hurting her would hurt Brick and I’d never do that.
The publicist swings his body back toward Gretchen. I frown. He’s acting even more strangely than she is.
“How can you look me in the eyes and continue to lie?” Gretchen splays her fingers across her magnificent breasts. “You know what you’ve done to me, to Brick, to the family we’ll now never have.”
The family they’ll now never have? They dated for little over a week.
The publicist is positioned toward me again.
What is he doing?
Read the next scene (available April 13th): http://tasteofcyn.com/2016/04/13/fighting-for-my-billionaire-boss-fourth-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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