#Boss (The Empire Series Book 3) (2 page)

F
inally getting to her apartment
, she slipped into her silk pajamas, poured herself a glass of wine and curled up on the couch to watch trashy TV. She placed her phone on the glass coffee table as she went to retrieve her fluffy blanket from the chest across the room.

    Without warning, her cell began to skate across the coffee table in an angry fashion. Viv rushed to her phone; it could be work. Looking at the display, she noticed a number she was not familiar with. Anyone who was important was programmed into her phone, so this person could go straight to voicemail.

    Heading to the kitchen to retrieve a fork for her takeout, she heard the familiar ping of her email going off incessantly. The cell had taken a tumble as it flew off her coffee table and on to her posh carpet.
What the hell?

    Shoving the fork in her mouth, she hauled her cartons of Thai to the coffee table. Picking up the mobile, she scrolled down her emails. There was not just one email from Luca, but
eleven
emails. Each email was a single word. Please. Open. Your. Front. Door. So. I. Can. Come. In. Please.

    Dumbstruck, she stood there with the fork still in her mouth. The confusion of if she was turned on, or freaked the fuck out, ran through her head. She was presently in her pajamas; stuffing her face with Thai food. She had Real Housewives on, ready to binge watch the mayhem of reality television. 
WTF
. The next thing she knew, she heard a slight knock on her door.

    Approaching the door, her heart hammered out of her chest, nervous to look through the peephole. Climbing to her toes, she peeked quickly to see the sexiest man standing on the other side
. Open it, no, don't open it. What if he's a serial killer, or worse? Then again, what the fuck could be worse then a serial killer. But, he's a CEO of her corporation, what could be so threatening about that?

"
V
ivienne
, I can see your shadow under the door. Are you going to let me in, or am I going to continue to have a conversation with your door?"

    "Maybe," she finally countered.

"On?" he chuckled in amusement.

    "On whether I feel that you're a bonafide serial kill or not," she detailed, as she leaned her back against the front door.

    "HA. If that is your argument, we are absolutely on the wrong page. I didn't come here to kill you, Harper."

    Not many people called her Harper, but, coming from Luca, it resonated brilliantly.

    "Why did you come here? And how did you know where I live, or my cell number for that matter?"

    "You fail to remember, I am your boss. I know everything about you down to your social security number, which is 345-52..."

    Opening her door lightening fast, she cut him off before letting her entire apartment building know her social security number. She was confident someone in her building would take advantage of the loose information.

"Keep your voice down. What makes you think you can use my personal information against me?" she questioned.

"I thought it wouldn't have to come to that. You proved me wrong. You're stubborn, that's for sure."

"You can't just barge in here and hold the superior card over my head to get me to let you in. It's unethical, wrong, and completely against company policy for that matter."

"Actually, there is no rule about showing up at another employee’s residence in the handbook." He looked at her with frustration.

"Well...there should be," she spoke up. "It's just wrong, and you know damn well. Plus, you are a superior, not someone who I work along side. There is a huge difference."

"All I asked was for dinner. How did this turn into such an intense conversation?"

"That doesn't mean you can just show up at my apartment, especially uninvited!" her voice escalated.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I shouldn't have come," he turned, looking dejected.

Mumbling under her breath, "For fuck’s sake."

"Come on. I just sat down to eat, but I can share… I guess," she huffed.

"Are you sure?"

"What is this? Reverse psychology? Of course I mind, but you’r e here, aren't you?"

Letting Luca into the apartment, she felt a little awkward that she was wearing her pajamas.

"I'm going to go change into something...a little less revealing," she cringed as she realized she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Don't change on my account," he smirked, as his eyes drifted to her chest.

"Typical," she bitched, as she walked into her bedroom.

Dashing into her closet, she rifled through her crowded racks. Heaving out an Indiana University sweatshirt and sweats, she threw them on and made her way into the living room.

"I didn't know you were a Hoosier," Luca stared at her outfit.

"So you know my social, but not my educational background? I'd say your priorities are a little screwed up."

"Yeah, well, whatever ammunition works better," he laughed.

"Uh huh," she mocked. "I hope you like Thai food."

"Not my first choice, but you paid," he said smugly.

"Are you always so charming?"

"Chicks seem to dig it," he grinned.

"Is it one of those, I'll-treat-them-like-crap-so-she’ll-think-she-can-change-me-and-make-me-a-better-man, kind of lay?" Viv listed like a pro.

"See, you're catching on," he tried to convince her.

"Are you kidding me? And that shit actually works?" She took a seat on the couch next to Luca.

    "The panties just melt off. The more I treat them like shit, the more they want me. It's the damnedest thing."

    "That makes no sense what so ever." She looked at him as if he were an alien.

    "Women love a man they can fix. The shittier you are, the harder they try. It's a challenge they love to accept."

    "The unfixable." She looked at him as if a light bulb had gone off.

    "Kind of hard to fix something that isn't broken, don't you think?"

    "It's fucking genius actually," Viv stared off into space, perplexed by this reasoning and truth. "Not all women are the same though."

    "I can tell." He took a sip of his wine.

    "I like to think I'm not one of those silly little girls, falling at your feet, trying desperately to put together your shattered and broken soul," she chuckled.

    "You definitely do not come across as that type of women either," he offered.

    "I wasn't aware you were here to psychoanalyze me." She leaned in to hear his explanation.

    Vivienne couldn't wait to hear his analysis.

    "Let's see. You’re fiercely independent, but not because you are obsessed about your job. You keep to yourself for fear of hurting anyone. Someone hurt you in the past, and you can't forgive yourself long enough to move on from it. Perhaps a boyfriend ‘done treated you wrong.’ Either way, you like to seclude yourself. I bet you were even an only child due to your lack of compassion."

    "You make me sound like a heartless bitch," she interjected.

    "But, am I wrong?"

    "Yes and no."

    "What did I get wrong?" he placed his wine glass down and picked up a carton or noodles.

    "I have two sisters and a brother. I've never told anyone that." She snatched a few noodles from his plate.

    "What? You don't talk to them?" he questioned.

    "Not exactly." She ceased her chewing.

    "Can I ask why?" His voice was calmer and less intimidating than before.

    "There's an age gap and, when I went to college, we just...grew apart," her voice trailed off.

    "You don't just grow apart from your family, though," he argued.

    "Yeah, well, our family is different," she quantified, unquestionably.

    "That's a shame. I wish I had brothers and sister to care for. It's probably why I'm the bastard I am today." He chuckled to lighten the mood a little.

    "That is definitely why you are a bastard." She laughed out loud.

    "Wait, wait, wait. You don't even know me. How can you make that assumption?"

    "The same way you can assume that I am emotionally crippled from some thing or some one. We live in an assumptive world, my friend. Get used to it."

    "I like your assurance. I also like that you are just as psychologically fucked as I am," he echoed her sarcasm.

    "Duly noted comrade." Vivienne raised her glass to clink with Luca.

    "So, who was it?" He placed his glass on the coffee table.

    "Was what?" She mirrored his actions.

    "Was it a guy that wormed his way into your brain to make scrambled eggs?"

    "I guess you could say that."

    "What? No details?" he pressed.

    "Aww, is this the point where we get all warm and fuzzy? Tell each other our deepest and darkest secrets? Cry into a carton of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream?" She teased him, trying to divert the subject.

    "I don't do warm and fuzzy," he replied.

    "That makes two of us," she grinned. "Why don't we get down to brass tacks? Why the hell are you here, Luca?" Her tone changed quickly.

    "I told you. I was sent to check out your operation. Ensure my superiors that things are running smoothly. Evaluate if we can make any sort of improvements to help."

    "Help with what?" she posed.

    "We just want to make sure we have the best and brightest people working for Airlon and Empire Magazine."

    "You're here to scoop me out, aren't you? Am I being replaced," She started to freak out, as she sat up straighter.

    "Hell, no. You are one of our top publishers throughout the market. We would be idiots to release you. You need to stop tormenting yourself about that," he reassured her, as he placed a hand on her knee.

    Looking down at his hand on her knee, he might as well been stroking her clit the way the sensations coursed through her body. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in quite some time. Oh, how she missed the touch of a man.

    "Why did you come here, Luca?" she questioned, as she glanced at her knee and then back at his gorgeous brown eyes.

    "I told you..." he began.

    "No. Tonight. Why did you come to my apartment tonight?" She stared at him, waiting for a valid response.

    "I...I wanted to talk about a few employees, plus I was hoping we could get something to eat," he acknowledged, as he removed his hand from her knee.

    "But I already said no at the office, and couldn't this conversation wait till tomorrow? What do you take me for, a moron?"

    "I've never had to work this hard for a woman," he finally admitted the truth.

    "And you thought, by coming here, I would welcome you with open legs?" She looked at him with a straight face. Although she would have gladly done just that, she did have some morals about herself. Besides, Luca's cockiness about the situation annoyed her.

    "No. Not at all. I felt something..."

    "What on earth gave you that impression? I have given you no reason to believe I wanted to sleep with you. Why would you assume I was that type of woman anyway? In fact, I've been pretty much a bitch to you since we met."

    "I see I completely misjudged the situation. I should probably go." He stood to leave.

    "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

    She didn't want him to leave, though. She wanted to strip him down and lick every inch of his body, but she would never give him the satisfaction of being correct. Somehow, she felt that he was the one who needed to beg for once in his life. It wasn't going to come easy either.

    Opening the door for Luca, he turned her way. "Thank you for dinner and the chat. Not many women want to just sit and talk. It was nice. I'm sorry I offended you."

    "Goodnight, boss," she smirked, as she shut the door in his face.

    He was not going to make her feel bad for doing the right thing. Hell no. So, why did she feel like she had just kicked an already wounded animal?
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

    Reaching for the handle, she twisted and marched into the hallway. Looking around, there was no one in sight.
Great. Just fucking great.

T
he next morning
, Vivienne skated into her office at six am, hoping to get some work done, but mostly to dodge Luca. Their awkward departure from the night before was mortifying.

    She spent a majority of the night lying in bed, and contemplating whether she should have thrown caution to the wind and fucked his brains out. Then again, just like impulse purchases, snap decisions in the heat of the moment were never a good idea. She supposed this was exactly the reason the dildo was created – to ward off the bad decisions of horny, single women in need of a good lay.

    Seven approached, and then eight, as her staff began to filter in one by one. There was still no sign of Luca. Had she embarrassed him that much? God, she hoped not. Shooting a guy in his ego g-spot was the worst sort of insult. They harbored that shit for days, months and years.

    Realizing she needed an office to conduct business, she could only think of one person who would have the hardest time saying no to her - Ariel Summers.

    "Ari, I need your office until further notice. Can you make do in the "pit" for a while?"

    "What happened to your office? Renovating again?"

    "Hardly, we seem to have corporate company."

    "That was awfully nice of you to offer your office."

    "More like he took it, but that's neither here nor there," she grunted at Ariel.

    "Man, I haven't sat in the sales executive’s ‘pit’ since I was an intern."

    "Yeah, I'm sorry about this. I'll make it up to you," she offered, much nicer than she had been to anyone in a long time.

    "No worries. Oh, by the way. Did you get the staff meeting invite from Luca this AM? I don't even know why I'm asking. Of course you did."

    Vivienne hadn't the slightest clue what she was talking about. She stalked both her phone and email, and this was news to her. Did he purposely forget her?
What a schmuck.

    "Of course," she brushed it off.

    "See you at ten."

    Sitting down in her chair, the deception stewed in her gut. Clearly someone didn't like rejection. The minutes and seconds counted down until the meeting, as she grabbed her notepad and pen and headed to the conference room five minutes early.

    Sitting in the room alone, she waiting for dipshit to appear. Minutes later, he strolled in with a surprised look on his face. Instead of making a sound, the two positioned their chairs at either end of the table. Just like Mr. And Mrs. Standoff, the two glared at one another without saying a word.

    The staff members rolled in just in time to see the two drawn pistols in their showdown.

"So glad everyone got my memo this morning. I'm sorry for the late notice." He smirked as he glared at Vivienne from across the table.

"For those of you that do not know, my name is Luca Manning. I'm the CEO at our parent company, The Airlon Company."

One of her staff members raised their hands after his introduction.

"Should we be worried you're here?" she asked hesitantly.

"Not at all. This is strictly a routine check. I replaced Frank, who I'm sure you’re used to see around from time to time. I'm just here to observe and get to know your publication. Nothing more, nothing less."

"So, I shouldn't update my resume?" the girl joked.

"Far from it. Vivienne Harper, your Editor in Chief, has made Empire one of the more lucrative publications Airlon owns. That is a huge accomplishment, and everyone should be very proud."

"Does that mean we're getting giant bonuses?" A gentleman now spoke up with a smile.

"Keep dreaming, Alberto. Your bonus is my keeping your ass for making that comment," Viv joked. She wasn't used to interacting with her staff. She had grown accustomed to barking orders and sending them away. It was quite cruel, really.

"I wish I could say yes, Alberto. Perhaps in the future we can work on that. Keep kicking ass in the graphics department and we'll talk. Sound good?"

"I like you already, man." He nodded his head in approval.

"Listen, guys and gals. I would encourage you to mirror Ms. Harper's actions and continue your daily routines as if I weren't here. She knows what she's doing. You're in good hands. Thank you for your time and, if you need me, here are my business cards. Feel free to call, text, email, whatever, if you have a question or concern. I'm available any time."

Vivienne was strangely attracted to this subdued businessman in front of her. This was a far cry from the man she met yesterday. She wanted to believe this was the man she met last night, but
that
man was far more aggressive. She like knowing he could conduct himself like a CEO should during business hours. However, she knew better than to assume when it came to Luca.

Standing to leave the conference room, she was quickly approached by Luca.

"Can I speak with you?" he insisted.

"I don't think we have anything to speak of unless you want to explain to me why you purposely left me off of the email regarding this meeting. Did I crush that ego a little too hard last night? If so, get the fuck over it. I have a business to run."

"I honestly didn't mean to exclude you from the email. Trust me, you were on my mind when I sent it out," he babbled.

"I take a lot of bullshit from my staff at times, I can smell the shit from here, Luca," she stated angrily.

Turning to leave the room, Luca clutched her elbow.

"Vivienne Harper, you will not walk away from me when I am speaking with you," he affirmed, while asserting himself in an oddly authoritative voice she wasn't prepared for.

She was immediately taken off guard by his command. She didn't expect for her body to have the kind of reaction it did. She swore he could hear her heart beating from within her chest. Her panties seemed to melt away, and her gut reaction to backtalk ceased to exist.
What was wrong with her?

As she stopped mid stride, she turned to look him in the eyes –those beautiful brown eyes. Luca released her elbow, as his demeanor began to shift in an unusual way. This was certainly not the man that was just addressing the entire staff. This was strict, corporate, no bullshit, Luca Manning. A Luca Manning she desperately wanted to see more of, but needed to push far down into her subconscious.

"I'm sorry, but you are the most stubborn woman I've ever met. It does something inside of me..." he trailed off.

"If you don't mind, Mr. Manning, I have work to do." She began to walk out of the room again, a little less agitated and a little more intrigued than before.

"I know you are mad at me, and I know I can't make up for that, but please give me a chance. A chance to prove to you that I'm a decent guy."

"We'll see." She left with little remorse for her curt departure.

Making her way into Ariel's office, she tossed herself on the couch. She needed time to think where no one could interrupt her from her thoughts.

"Knock, knock," Sam tapped on the door, expecting to see Ariel. "Viv, where's Ariel? Why are you on her couch?"

"Super schmuck took my office," she declared, as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Which super schmuck? We have several in the office, if I'm not mistaken." She giggled.

"Luca Manning." Viv joined her in laughing.

"Did I miss something because super schmuck seemed like a pretty outstanding guy?"

"I'm sorry. It's inappropriate to talk about him like that. Forget I said anything," Viv turned her head to see a sideways Sam.

"Hey, Harper...," Luca's face came creeping through the door as he drummed his fingers across the wood. "My apologies, I didn't realize you had company. I'll come back."

"Nonsense, Luca, come in," Sam offered. Viv needed to remember to reprimand her for that.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?" he asked, as Vivienne sat up on the couch. Trying to adjust herself, she stood to push down her already short skirt. She had worn it to drive Luca crazy.

   "What did you need, Luca?" Viv asked, a little annoyed.

    "I was hoping we could talk in private." He eyed Sam.

    "I'll leave you to it," she began to make her way out of the room.

    "You'll do no such thing, Samantha. Stay," Viv barked. "What you have to say to me, you can say it to Sam. And be very careful of what your next words are going to be."

    Sam stood stiff as a board as the altercation ensued.

    "I'm going over a few spreadsheets, and wanted to see if you wanted to go over them with me. Perhaps at dinner?" He tried to avoid looking Sam's way.

    "I can't," she shaft immediately. "I'm going out with the girls tonight. Isn't that right, Sam?" Seems Sam needed to make up for her earlier actions. It felt like a comparable solution.

    "Yep. That's exactly right. Good ol' girls night alright." She stared at Vivienne, wide eyed, shaking her head in agreement with Viv.

    "I suppose you'll have to email me those docs. You do have my email address, don't you?" she asked, disdain dripping off her perfect lips.

    "Another time, then," he grimaced as he turned to leave. "Samantha. Harper."

    Clearing the door, Vivienne crashed into the couch. Sam gazed at her, just as confused as to when he walked into the office.

    "Um, should I even ask?" Sam looked at her with a perplexed expression on her face.

    "Not now," Viv avowed as she lay back on the couch, pinching the bridge on her nose again.

    "Fair enough."

    "Thank you for covering for me back there. You don't need to make good on the offer." She slouched in the couch.

    "No. It'll be fun. Let's go out," Sam offered apprehensively.

    "Are you sure?" she asked, slightly excited she didn't have to spend her night with a bottle of red and McSteamy.

    "Sure. I'll round up Quinn and Ariel. It'll be fun."

    "Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate this." She cracked a smile.

    "How about nine thirty, ten o'clock at Club Star?" Sam offered.

    "Do you have a more specific time? That seems a little vague."

    "Let's say nine-thirty. Sound good?" Sam grinned.

    "Deal. Nine-thirty. I'll be there," she quantified somewhat awkwardly.

    "See you then, Viv," Sam turned to walk out.

    Stopping before she crossed the threshold, "What does one wear to a club now-a-days?"

    "You came to the right person," Sam stated, as she grabbed a hold of Vivienne's arm.

    "Where are we going, Samantha?" Viv squawked as her tip-toe run skirted across the floor.

    "Tell me you've raided the designer closest before," Sam questioned with perked eyebrows.

    "Not really. I broke a heel one time, and had to borrow a pair of heels, but nothing more," she affirmed, somewhat ashamed, especially coming from the Editor in Chief of a fashion magazine.

    "Well, you're in for a treat. This is my sanctuary when I need to get away..." She trailed off, grimacing at Viv.

    "...From me?" she frowned. "It's okay, I get it. I can be a little belligerent at times."

    "That's putting it nicely."