Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (32 page)

Chapter
Fifteen

Emily

"
I'm
such an idiot," I groaned as
Trish and I got ready to do the flight safety presentation in first class.

"Don't beat yourself up about
it," she whispered reassuringly. "I'm sure he has women literally
throwing themselves at him all the time. You're probably a refreshing departure
from that."

"Don't joke about it, Trish!" I
pleaded in a loud whisper. "It's humiliating!"

"C'mon, Princess, let it go,"
she grinned. "I'm sure a guy who runs three arms of a major corporation
has more to worry about than a flight attendant falling on him."

"I can't believe he's the CEO,"
I said in a whisper that was louder than I intended. "He seems so
young!"

"That he is," she agreed as she
grabbed the props we used to do the flight safety presentation. "And a
hottie, too!"

"Trish!" I laughed. "You
are impossible!"

"Perhaps, I am," she shrugged.
"But despite the good looks, he seems to know what he's doing, I mean, we
still have jobs, don't we? Now, c'mon, let’s do this thing!"

I smiled through the presentation, but
underneath it all, I was burning with humiliation for having been
unprofessional with my boss. What kind of person would he think I was?
Thankfully, Trish kept reminding me that he probably wasn't thinking about me
at all.

Once we were in the air, we quickly shed
our suit jackets, changed into our in-flight uniforms, and began to circulate
through the cabin, checking on passengers and passing out blankets and pillows
before we began serving what would be the first of several meals. The flight to
Sydney would take fifteen hours and first class was light, so Trish and I
divided the twelve passengers between us and focused on ensuring that they had
everything they needed.

"You take the boss," she said as
she poured hot water into a teapot for the British couple in 3B and 3C.

"Wait, what?" I said taking a
moment to process what she'd said. "No, you take him!"

"Nope, I've already got my hands full
with Mr. Grabby Hands in 2A," she said. "I like these guys."

"Why on earth?"

"I like being able to teach them a
lesson about manners." She grinned as she set up the tea service on a
silver tray and checked to make sure that there was enough cream in the china
pitcher. "Fifteen hours is just about right for the Trish Academy."

"Is this how it always is?" I
asked.

"Pretty much." She smiled as she
lifted the tray and headed toward the British couple. "Never a dull
moment!"

I shook my head and stepped out into the
aisle. I tapped on the door of 1D and softly asked, "Is there anything I
can bring you, ma'am?"

"She's fine," came the response
from 2D. "But I am in desperate need of a hot towel and some Perrier, can
you get that for me, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied as I
turned and headed back to the galley, but not before another voice called out.

"She's always such a demanding
pain," came the voice from 1D. "I could use a cool glass of lemonade
and a cool washcloth."

"Yes, ma'am?" I replied, unsure
as to why 1D was being critical of 2D when we'd only just begun the trip.

I walked into the galley and began
gathering the requested items hoping that the two women weren't going to be
trouble. Trish had returned from serving tea and was now preparing a second
tray for the woman in 3A, rolling her eyes as she made a dry martini with
onions for the hands on executive in 2A. We knew better than to say anything
negative about passengers in the galley, but that didn't stop Trish from
silently acting out the way in which she would school the gentleman over the
next fourteen hours and thirty minutes. I laughed and stepped out into the
aisle with my first tray of items.

"Ma'am, I have your towel and
Perrier," I said as I tapped on 2D. The small door opened and an elegantly
dressed woman in her seventies smiled at me as I set the tray down on the small
table inside the door. As part of our training, we had been instructed not to
call our guests by name until they indicated that they wanted us to do so. Despite
this, I still made sure that I knew every one of my guests' names before the
flight took off, so I knew that this beautiful woman's name was Crystal Wexler
Van Horn.

"Oh, stop calling me ma'am. It makes
me feel old, dearie," she scolded.

"Yes, ma-Ms. Van Horn," I
replied.

"Oh good lord, that's even
worse," she moaned. "Mrs. Van Horn was my bitter old mother-in-law!
Call me Crystal, dearie."

"Yes, Crystal," I said
uncomfortably. It was one thing to call someone by a courtesy title, and quiet
another to be asked to call an elder by her first name. I wasn't sure I could
do it, but I knew I had to.

"Don't look so uncomfortable, I know
you think you're not supposed to call your elders by their first names."
She smiled with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes. "I just don't like
anything that reeks of rules or decorum."

"That's because you are a rude woman
with absolutely no manners," came a voice from 1D. Shocked, I turned to
see an almost exact replica of the woman sitting in front of me. I quickly
turned back to Crystal.

"It's okay, dearie," she laughed
loudly. "We're used to that reaction, you see, we're twins."

"For better or worse," said the
woman behind me dryly. "It's been quite a burden to walk through life
looking exactly like someone else."

"Oh lighten up, Cornelia. You're such
a drag sometimes," Crystal said as she waved a hand at her sister.
"Now introduce yourself properly and then come in here and sit down so
this nice young woman can bring you what you requested."

"Cornelia Wexler Rothschild," said
the woman as she held out a hand for me to shake. I lightly grasped it and
quickly let go as I ushered her into the pod where her sister now sat holding
the warm towel up to her face as she sighed happily.

"I'll be right back, Ms.
Rothschild," I said as I quickly walked back to the galley to get her
items. But not before I heard her mutter, "Oh good lord, are we going to
have to put up with that baloney the whole flight?"

When I returned the sisters seemed to be
engaged in a deep discussion about which reef they would be diving at first, so
I set the tray in front of Cornelia and backed out of the pod, softly closing
the door behind me.

I then turned my attention to the occupant
of 3D.

"Sir, is there anything I can get
you?" I said as I softly tapped on the pod door.

"Yes, please," he called as I
opened the door and peeked in. I inhaled sharply as he looked up at me from the
laptop he had balanced on the table in front of him. His dark eyes held mine
for a moment before the sound of mail arriving diverted his attention. His wavy
dark hair showed signs of having had his hand run through it numerous times and
as a result was rather messy, and the shadow on his face told me that he
probably needed to shave several times a day in order to keep his face smooth.

When he looked back up and smiled, my
heart dropped to my stomach. This was literally the most handsome man I'd ever
met in my entire life. I looked away for a moment and then brought my eyes up
to meet his again. He was still wearing a warm smile, although now it was
somewhat amused.

"So, this is your maiden voyage in
first class, is it?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," I replied as my eyes
widened briefly wondering if I was giving off a signal that let him know this.

"Don't look too surprised, Ms.
Warner," he chuckled. "After all, I do own the company, so I have
access to all kinds of records and things."

"Oh!" I exclaimed and then felt
the blush rising in my cheeks. I was embarrassed that I hadn't thought of this
first, after all, it was my job to know everything necessary to make guests
feel comfortable.

"We don't expect you to know
everything, you know," he said as if reading my thoughts. I blushed harder
and simply nodded as I tried to think of what to say next. "Now, you asked
if I needed anything, and I said yes."

"Yes, sir," I managed to squeak
out, relieved that he was helping me, but ashamed that I couldn't pull myself
together and act like the professional I was being paid to be.

"I'd like a warm towel, a Perrier,
and some cheese and fruit, please," he said. "Maybe an apple and some
Brie?"

"Yes, sir!" I quickly replied
and turned to exit the pod.

"Oh, and I would prefer it if you
called me Austin, rather than sir," he said to my back.

"Yes, sir-Austin," I obediently
replied as I spun back around and found him looking at me with the same warm
smile. "I'll do that from now on."

"Good, I'd like that," he
smiled.

Chapter
Sixteen

Austin

I
chuckled softly as Emily exited the pod and went to find the things I'd asked
for. There was a sweetness about her that I didn't normally associate with
flight attendants who worked for Marks Air. Most of the attendants had a
mixture of the best qualities of food servers, teachers, and therapists with a
tinge of drill sergeant mixed in for good measure. I liked a little toughness
in flight attendants because it meant that passengers could relax and feel
safely cared for on any given flight, but it also meant that I also deflected
the overtures of beautiful attendants – most of the time.

Emily Warner seemed different than the
average attendant and I wondered how she had made it through the hiring process
given the fact that she was rather young. I looked up her personnel record and
found that she lived in Las Vegas, had graduated from a north side high school,
and claimed one exemption on her W-4 form. She'd gotten stellar reviews for the
past two years and had a long list of customer compliments attached to each
review, and she'd been promoted to first class crew only days before this
flight took off. I searched the database looking for more information, but got
nothing.

When she returned a few minutes later, I
smiled as she looked me in the eye and then blushed before looking down at the
table where my laptop sat.

"Oh, sorry," I said as I quickly
shifted the computer to the shelf next to my seat.

"It's no problem, sir-Austin,"
she said quickly correcting herself. "Would you like me to set up the
table or just leave the tray?"

"Go ahead and set it up," I said
as I gestured at the table. "I want to see how well you've learned what
you were taught."

"Yes...Austin," she choked a
little as she swallowed her inclination to say sir. I watched as she moved the
tray to the ottoman that was on the opposite side of the pod and then quickly
fluffed a cloth before laying it over the table and moving everything on the
tray onto it. The set up, complete with a small vase with a single iris in it,
was perfect.

"Very nice, you've learned
well," I smiled.

"Thank you," she replied as she
turned to pick up the tray and moved toward the door. "Will there be
anything else?"

I held her gaze for a long moment, she had
soft eyes and there was a gentleness about her that made me want to stand up
and pull her into my arms.

"Austin?" she said quietly
breaking through the beginning of my daydream.

"Yes? Oh, sorry, I was thinking
about...something," I quickly covered as I looked down at the table.

"Can I bring you anything else?"
she repeated her question.

"No, I think I'm good," I
replied before I looked back up at her and added, "For now."

She smiled as she blushed again and then
backed out of the pod saying, "If you need anything, just press the call
button and I'll be right here to get it for you."

"Oh, don't worry, Emily," I
said. "I won't hesitate."

Chapter
Seventeen

Emily

"
I
think
he's flirting with me," I hissed at Trish as she walked back into the
galley with an irritated look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing that a little knee to
the groin won't fix," Trish whispered as she rolled her eyes. "Mr.
Grabby Hands is getting drunk and telling me his life story while he tries to
make a play for me. Ugh."

"Oh ugh," I sympathized. Drunk
passengers were always a nightmare to have to deal with on a flight, but at
least in first class, we could keep them isolated from the other, non-drunk
passengers and keep the damage to a minimum. The downside was that flight
attendants often had to deal with the drunks on their own in the privacy of the
pods. "Do you want me to come with you next time you go over?"

"Nah, he's going to learn really
quickly that I don't put up with drunken little boys who try and sell sob
stories about their miserable marriages," she smiled.

Trish was an expert at dealing with these
guys. She was one of the few women I knew who could tell a man to go to hell
and have him actually thanking her for the opportunity. I called her a
magician, but she said it was just the result of growing up in a household full
of drunk men who were always grabbing at the women. Self preservation was high
on her list of priorities and she didn't have a lot of patience for the gospel
of female self-sacrifice or solicitousness. She did understand, though, that
good customer service was the basis for her continued employment, so she
learned to give them the rope with which they'd eventually hang themselves. I,
for one, enjoyed watching.

"Now, what were you saying when I
came in with my tale of woe?" she asked as she mixed another martini and
rinsed out the teapot the Brits had finished with.

"I think he's flirting with me,"
I whispered.

"Who, boss man?" she whispered
back.

"Yes, him," I said as I tipped
my head toward his seat.

"So? Go for it!" she urged me.

"Trish, get serious, I'm
married," I said as I held up the hand on which I wore my wedding ring.
"Oh crap."

"What?" she looked genuinely
confused.

"I'm not wearing it!" I hissed.
I'd forgotten to put my rings on before I'd left the house. I knew Tommy would
be pissed as hell if he noticed them sitting on the dresser – or worse, the
kitchen windowsill where I'd set them when I'd done dishes the night before.

"Smooth move, Princess," Trish
grinned.

"It wasn't on purpose!" I
protested. "And second, Ms. Smarty Pants, he's my boss."

"So? Lots of women have passionate
affairs with their bosses," she shrugged. "Why not you? I mean, it's
not like you're happy being married to a drunken idiot who fails to hold up his
end of the deal, are you?"

"Trish, that's not fair," I
said. "Tommy is depressed because he lost his shot to play pro ball. I'm
not going to abandon him just because he's having a rough time."

"Oh God, you should hear yourself,"
she said rolling her eyes. "Seriously, how long are you going to tell
yourself that lovely little lie? Tom was injured, yes, but he's had two years
to pick his sorry ass up of the ground and do something else. Why not join the
league as a pitching coach? Or get a teaching degree and coach high school?
Hell, why not do anything other than work a 40-hour job as ground crew and then
go home and get stinking drunk every night?"

"That's unfair," I mumbled.

"No, it's not unfair, Princess,"
Trish was stubborn when she felt strongly about something. "Life is not
fair, but you know what? You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start
over again. You don't sit down in the corner and wait for your wife to kiss
your boo-boo and make it all better. What a jackass."

I turned and looked at her. Her eyes were
flashing and there were red spots on each of her cheeks. I'd never seen her
quite this worked up before and with a worried look on my face, I backed up a
bit to give her some room. She saw my fear and immediately turned soft, placing
a hand on my shoulder as she spoke.

"Look, Princess," she began.
"I'm not saying that you need to kick him to the curb simply because
things got tough. I'm just saying that for as long as I've known you, things
have not been good between you two. And now that you're moving up in the world,
you might need to reconsider whether you want to be married to your high school
boyfriend who seems locked into the role of fifteen-year-old child."

I nodded as I felt the tears begin to well
up for the second time that morning.

"I'm just saying that there's nothing
wrong with moving on," she smiled sympathetically. "You don't have to
be the Emily you were at fifteen just because Tom is. You deserve happiness,
Princess."

"I know, I know," I nodded.

"And if you have the chance to hop on
the boss," she whispered suggestively as she cheerfully cuffed my
shoulder. "Then, I think you should go for it!"

"You're impossible," I laughed,
grateful for her honesty, but also frightened by what it meant. For the last
six months, I'd thought about leaving Tommy on a regular basis. He wasn't the
guy I'd married four years ago, and he didn't seem to be incredibly concerned
about that, either. I wanted more out of my life than settling down in a north
Vegas house and having children, and at this point, I couldn't imagine having
children with Tommy acting like one himself.

Just then, Crystal in 2D pressed the call
button. I forced a friendly smile and left the galley to see what she neede