Millionaire Boss (Freeman Brothers 1)

What also wasn’t any help was I couldn’t get my eyes off her. She wasn’t just unfamiliar, she was gorgeous. Dark hair hung like mahogany in a loose knot at the back of her neck, her skin was smooth and creamy, and when she stood up, her sundress clung to lush, unapologetic curves. When she glanced up and noticed I was standing there, huge almond eyes and a bright smile completed the package of essentially my ideal woman. Never in my career had I had any difficulty keeping things professional, but this woman might just be enough to attempt me.

She took a step toward me and reached out her hand.

“Hi,” she said. “You must be Mr. Freeman. I’m Merry. I’m here to make you social.”

I shook her hand, but I wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about. Social? My mind was starting to traipse down the ridiculous path of wondering if one of my parents had hired an actress from a local community theater to pretend to be my girlfriend and desensitize me to the concept when I remembered. Mom had talked about hiring a social media consultant to get me on my game. Nodding, I released her hand and walked around to sit across from her.

“Right. The social media consultant,” I said.

“Yes,” she answered, settling back into the chair. “It’s a pleasure to finally get to meet you, Mr. Freeman.”

She was probably ten years younger than me, which made me sound even older when she called me “Mr. Freeman.” I’d been lying if I said it didn’t turn me on at least a little, but I needed to bring it back down to the usual level of my office.

“Call me Quentin,” I instructed. “What do you need from me, Merry?”

I folded my hands on the desk in front of me and stared at her, waiting for her to explain why I got to work that morning to find her already waiting in my office. People getting a jump on me when it came to starting my day wasn’t something I was a big fan of in any circumstances, but when that person was a young, sexy woman who I could see proving a distraction, I was particularly not a fan.

“As you probably already know, your mother hired me last week. I got here early this morning so I could hit the ground running. She showed me my office and has given me access to the accounts so I can start working on them. I don’t know how much she told you about our interview and the plans I’ve already laid out…”

“None,” I said, cutting her off. “I was on vacation last week, and she hasn’t told me anything about you other than that she was looking into hiring a social media consultant.”

A stung expression flickered briefly over Merry’s eyes, but she quickly rebounded.

“No problem. I brought along the plans I put together if you want to look over them,” she said.

I nodded and she pulled a file out of a messenger bag at her feet. Glancing over the pages, I listened as she rattled off essentially what I was reading. She threw around terms like ‘scheduled posting’ and ‘click-through,’ while making the fans of my company sound like a bunch of tokens she was trying to collect. I would be the first to admit social media was not my thing, and I probably didn’t understand everything she was trying to get across to me just because it wasn’t something I much cared about. So, I let her talk right until she mentioned going around the complex taking pictures.

Merry stopped short when she saw me hold up my hand and shake my head.

“No,” I told her.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“No,” I repeated. “I’m not going to grant you free access to the complex so you can go around taking pictures for who knows what use.”

She gave me a slightly condescending look.

“The use is to post on your various platforms to give followers a glimpse into the company. You want to seem like more than just a facade. Letting them see more behind the scenes, people who work here, the pond, the test tracks… it makes them feel more like they are a part of something rather than just drooling fans,” she told me. “The more invested they feel, the more money they’ll spend.”

Her tongue ran briefly over her nude-painted lips, and I had to force myself not to stare at them, to keep my attention on the conversation at hand.

“You need to understand there is proprietary information you can’t share. There are things throughout this complex that aren’t just openly offered up for the public, and can’t be shared with my competitors,” I told her.

Merry shifted in her seat, and the look on her face melted into a smile that said she thought I was an idiot.