Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (3 page)

I laughed. “I’m so happy things are going well for you
guys.”

“Thanks. Me, too. I'm glad I stuck with it. But enough
about me, what's going on with you, Peanut? You sounded a little frazzled when
you called me earlier.”

“Oh, man, it was a crazy day, just off the charts.”

Eddie nodded as he swigged on the beer he had already
drained halfway, while I'd only managed to have a few tentative sips of mine. I
told him everything that had happened that day, while he listened attentively.

“So, this Asher guy—he's a real big shot, huh?”

“You could say that. He's the CEO and he owns the
company, so, yeah. Oh, and he's been mentioned in
Forbes Magazine
more times than I can count and-”

“Yeah, all right. I get it. He's a big deal in the
corporate world, but how does he strike you
as a person?
Leaving out all
the power and prestige and all that corporate impressive stuff—is he,
personally, someone you'd be comfortable spending a lot of time around and
interacting with on a daily basis?

“I've been all over the place, and met all kinds of
people, from millionaires to bums and everything in between, and while I can't
say I have much experience in the world of suits, boardrooms, and briefcases, I
can tell you that a person's character is absolutely the most important part of
who they are.

“So, try to forget about
what
this guy is and
think about
who
he is. Is he someone you're gonna be able to spend a lot
of time with and someone your gut says you can trust? Is he gonna inspire you,
or is he gonna be putting you down? Is he genuinely interested in who you are
and what you have to offer, or does he just want a pretty face to brighten his
day? What do your instincts tell you?”

I nursed my beer and thought about it. While it did
seem, on one level, that perhaps Asher was a bit fond of his status and
prestige, I had felt as if he had been genuinely interested in what I had said.
He seemed sincere in his opinion that I could bring something to the table. Why
else would he have offered me the position after I had all but insulted him right
to his face?

There was also that look I'd seen in his eyes that I
couldn’t stop thinking about and that mysterious something I'd noticed in his
smile which seemed to have gone beyond mere friendliness. I set those things
aside for the time being, though. I didn't need too many elements, too many
variables clouding my judgment. Especially since there was a chance I'd just
been imagining things, perhaps projecting my own, secret desires onto him.

“Well, my instincts say that he’s sincere,” I finally
admitted.

In light of everything I'd just considered, it really
did seem as if taking the position would be the best thing to do. In fact, it
seemed almost foolish
not
to accept
it, even though I wasn’t fully aware of what the position would involve. Asher
Sinclair himself had called it a promotion. I didn't know why I'd had such
doubts about it before. Maybe I'd just been too flustered after criticizing the
man and then having the true identity bomb dropped on me.

“Sincerity is good,” Eddie added. “Now, do you feel
like he’s someone you could work with? You aren’t going to want to chuck him
from the top of the building after a few days?”

I smiled as I finished off my beer. “Yeah. I think so,”
I said slowly. “I think he genuinely believes that I'll be a beneficial
addition to his team.”

Eddie smiled and finished his second beer. “Then, take
that bull right by the horns, lil' sis! When opportunity comes knockin', you
know what you need to do.”

I nodded just as my phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled
it out to check my email. As if right on cue, there was a message from Asher Sinclair
in my inbox. I opened it and began to read with more than a little nervousness
rushing through my veins.

Good evening, Lilah!

Thanks so much for the awesome presentation earlier
today. I hope you’ll accept my sincerest apologies for not revealing who I am
as soon as we started talking. It's just useful at times for a man in my
position to understand what his employees really think about him and his ideas.
People tend to be more open and honest with someone other than the boss. I hope
you understand.

Anyway, I hope you are seriously considering my offer.
I’ve attached a document that gives you a detailed view of what you can expect
if you accept it. No rush, of course. As I said, you've got a week to mull it
over. I do hope, though, that you don't need that long to make the decision. Feel
free to reply when you have made that choice.

Looking forward to hearing from you and working with
you!

Kindest regards,

Asher

I opened the attachment and did a quick scan through
the job description. It was better than I had expected. I didn't need a week to
think about it; I'd made my decision. With my heart in my throat, I typed out a
quick reply, proofed it, breathed in deeply, and then hit send.

CHAPTER 3

Asher

For the first time in years, I had to force myself not
to stray from my routine. I'd learned over the years how important discipline
is and how integral to success having a firmly-set routine is. Like everything
else I've committed to in life, I've stuck with my routine no matter how I feel
when I wake up–and it's paid off for me.

I'm in better shape now at age 32 than I was at 18,
and I feel more focused and motivated than I ever have at any point in my life.
I generally start my days at five a.m. with a green smoothie and a bowl of raw
organic fruit and vegetables. I then work out in my gym with my personal
trainer for an hour. I have a protein shake and a long shower at six, and
then
I check my email.

Except that a little something—or someone—seemed to
have upset my focus somewhat. My first thought when I awoke had been to check
my email. I had even reached for my phone once before I got dressed. But I
managed to refrain.

It was, however, still in the back of my mind when I
opened my messages on the projector screen of my dining room as I settled down
to sip on my protein shake. My eyes were immediately drawn to one message in
particular, and my finger went straight for the name: Lilah Maxwell.

Good evening, Asher.

Thank you so much for offering me the position on your
personal team. I appreciate your promptness in sending the job description. After
some careful consideration, I've decided to take the job. I feel there's a lot
I can learn from someone like you. I hope, in turn, I'm able to live up to the
expectations you have for me. I assure you I'll do everything in my power to do
exactly that!

Let me know how to proceed.

Sincerely,

Lilah Maxwell

I drank the last of my protein shake, skimmed over the
message one more time, and smiled.

“You've made the right decision, Ms. Maxwell,” I said
to myself. “You've definitely made the right decision.”

I dictated a quick reply, which my speech-to-text
program converted to type.

Lilah!

So glad you've decided to accept the offer. I
suspected you wouldn't actually need that week. I'll email your supervisor
regarding the situation and will personally arrange the transfer. Wrap up
whatever you need to in your current department; three days should be enough to
take care of that. If anything's left unfinished or simply can't be done in
that time, no worries. I'll have your supervisor
complete it himself or have your replacement take
it over depending on the urgency or lack thereof of the task.

I'll arrange an office for you on my floor. It will be
ready shortly. Tell me, would you prefer a city view from your window or an
ocean view? I've got vacant offices on both sides, so the choice is yours. You
should be moved into your new office by the time I return and we will then have
a chat about your new responsibilities and projects. Your primary focus for the
time being will be the Harry Winston campaign, of course, which you have
fantastic ideas for. We'll get those in motion ASAP.

I look forward to having you on my team!

See you in three days.

Asher

I stood and stretched, still feeling the burn from the
morning's workout, which had been particularly intense. It wouldn't be the only
workout for the day, though. Between board meetings, I had a private Thai
kickboxing session booked with a master instructor. If things went really well
with my sessions, I'd planned to be fighting in a ring in a month's time in a local
league—under a fake name and identity, of course. I'd always valued my privacy
immensely, just as my grandfather had taught me to do, and headlines about a
business mogul fighting in a brutal Thai Kickboxing League would not do. Marketing
was my business, and I knew that wouldn’t be an effective way to market myself
or my company.

The cuts and bruises from the ring would be easy
enough to explain away. Most people who knew anything about me already knew I
had a penchant for extreme sports, but publicity was another thing altogether.
I'd always avoided it at all costs, and I wasn't about to start getting into it
now.

As I stretched, I looked down the long dining table—at
which I was, as usual, the only person—and my gaze fixed on the painting
perched above the antique fireplace. It was a heavy, somber oil painting of my
late grandfather, founder of The Sinclair Agency. He had been the one to
purchase this home in Hong Kong. I had fond memories of having breakfast with
him at the table that was now so empty.

And, as I always did, I gave those severe eyes a
respectful nod. My granddad had been my hero, my pillar of strength growing up.
He'd been a hard man and, in addition to his success with The Sinclair Agency,
he'd been a war hero. Despite his tough exterior, he had always been a fair and
just man. Most only saw his cool, intensely-focused demeanor, but he had had a
warm and affectionate side, as well. Everything I had grown up to be was almost
entirely due to his influence, and not a day went by that I didn't miss him.

“I hope you're proud of me, Gramps,” I said to the
painting. “I really do.”

With that, I headed off to take a shower and begin
what was set to be a very busy three days in Hong Kong.

***

I stood in front of the mirror in my private bathroom,
checking my hair and straightening my tie. I wasn't sure why, but the thought
of interacting with Lilah Maxwell had me a little off balance.

“Come on, Ash,” I said to my reflection as I pushed a
hand through my hair in an attempt to calm myself. “Yes, she's pretty. Yes,
she's fiery…and yes, you do like those things, you really do. But, come on.
You're the CEO of one of the most powerful PR firms on the continent. What are
you feeling weird about? Get it together.”

I adjusted my tie and ran a finger over the deep cut
across my right cheek—a souvenir of the previous morning's sparring session
with the kickboxing master. For a fifty-five-year-old, he could still move as
fast as a teenager and I suspected his punches, kicks, knees and elbows were
just as devastatingly powerful as they had been when he'd been a younger man.

“Okay, let's do this,” I encouraged my reflection, and
with that, I turned and headed to the office three doors down from mine and
knocked on the door.

“Just a moment,” came a voice from inside: Lilah's
voice.

“Sure,” I replied.

The door opened, and there she was, dressed in a pale-blue
business suit that more than complemented her striking eyes. Her hair was
pulled back, but in a softer style than the day I’d met her. She beamed a warm
smile at me and extended a hand, which I shook firmly, but pulled away the
moment I was sure I felt a tingle pass between us.

“Good morning, Mr...Asher,” she corrected herself as
our eyes met briefly. “How was your trip to Hong Kong?” she asked politely.

“Good morning, Lilah. It was productive. Thank you for
asking. So, how do you like the new office?” I asked, stepping inside.

“Oh, it's beautiful!” she exclaimed. “I wouldn't have
imagined that I'd be in an office this amazing so quickly. I was prepared for
it to take me a few years to work my way to an office view like this.”

“When you've got talent and drive, sometimes things
happen faster than you think they will. But, of course, you will need to prove
yourself in order to maintain the view.”

My grandfather always said you had to keep a decent
amount of pressure on your staff to keep them on their toes; nothing excessive,
but enough to remind them that nothing was set in stone. Complacency doesn’t
move a company forward. Hard work and ambition does. I could not–and would
not–tolerate complacency in my firm. Lilah, like every member of my staff,
needed to realize this.

“I understand completely,” she replied, “and I intend
to do just that. My goal is to see to it that you have no doubt
you
made the right decision by offering
me this position. But more than that, I want to prove to
myself
that I
can not only do this job, but that I can do it
brilliantly.”

I smiled. “Excellent. Ultimately, the only person you
should ever need to prove anything to or compete with is yourself. As long as
you're bettering yourself every day, you're winning the race. That's my
philosophy, at least.”

“It's a good philosophy.”

I walked over to her desk and immediately noticed a
picture of her with a handsome, rugged-looking man staring at me from next to
her computer. It was completely irrational, but a sudden stab of jealousy shot sharply
through me.

“Is this your boyfriend?” I regretted the words as
soon as they came out of my mouth. It was a stupid thing to ask, but what could
I do? It had already been said.

“No, no,” she answered hastily, and I couldn’t help
feel a sliver or relief at her quick insistence. “He's my oldest brother, Eddie,”
she added. “He's also my best friend.”

I stared at the man in the picture, and it began to make
sense. Once I looked closer, the physical resemblance between the two was
undeniable.

“I see it now. You two favor quite a bit.”

 
“Yeah. We get
that all the time. He and I both have our mother's looks, while my other
brothers all look like my dad.”

“How come you don't have pictures of the rest of them
on your desk?” I asked and immediately could tell that I probably shouldn't
have. She looked noticeably uncomfortable. There were obviously some family
issues there.

“It's just that I'm closer to Eddie than my other
brothers,” she replied softly.

“Oh, I see,” I responded, not wishing to press the
issue. “Well, tell me a bit more about Eddie then; he looks like an interesting
guy.”

She smiled, seeming relieved to have gotten away from the
topic of her other brothers.

“Eddie’s great. He's a rather unconventional guy–he
was a college dropout, but despite that, he's worked hard and is quite a
success in his field.”

“And, what field might that be?”

“He's a musician–the lead guitarist for The Razor's
Edge.”

“What? No way. He's seriously in The Razor's Edge?”

She looked surprised that I'd heard of them.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “He's one of the two founding
members still in the band.”

“That’s crazy. I've been a fan of theirs for years.” It
was true. While I'd been raised on jazz and classical music and, thanks to my
mother, had played the piano since age six, my rebellious side had always had a
soft spot for punk music.

“I discovered The Razor's Edge in my teens when I'd
heard one of their tracks on a snowboarding video,” I continued. “That song
Bullet
.
Man, that tune used to get me amped before my snowboarding sessions.”

“Wait. You were into snowboarding…and punk music?” she
said with a laugh that was half amusement, half disbelief.

I smiled. “All work and no play makes Asher a dull
boy,” I countered. “And with all the hard work and focus I've poured into my
life, I needed some outlets, some escapes. In my teens, that took the form of
punk music, snowboarding, motocross, and a few other extreme sports I could
sneak in without my mom finding out.”

“Wow,” she said with another laugh and bright smile
that was just as stunning as her eyes. “I never would have thought it.”

“There's a lot most people don't know about me,” I offered
softly. “A lot.” Suddenly, I no longer felt like talking about myself. Things
were getting a little too personal, and so I changed the topic abruptly.

“Anyway, we're wasting precious time here. I have a
lot of things on my plate today, so we should get to work. Have a seat and
let's chat about this Harry Winston project.”

We sat down in the meeting area off in one corner of
her office and started discussing the campaign while I did my utmost to focus
on the conversation and ignore her striking eyes and the curvaceous legs
revealed so casually from beneath her skirt. This was going to be an
interesting working relationship. Interesting indeed.