1
Bunny Carson licked her lips, moaning at the taste of the milk chocolate. The candy bar was so good, but the unusual heat meant it melted with way too much ease. Staring at her computer screen, she nodded her head at the tune that had been going around her mind since that morning. She couldn’t even remember the song and it was driving her crazy, just the tempo.
“Do I pay you to hum?”
She turned toward her door and stared at her boss. At six foot three, Brice Chambers was absolute smoking sin.
With her finger in her mouth, she could imagine dribbling chocolate syrup all over his body and licking it up for herself.
“You pay me to be your awesome PA, and I’ve already got that letter ready.” She clicked print for the letter she’d been typing up for him. She had to stop to lick up her chocolate. Removing her finger from her mouth, she tried not to think about the fact she’d spoken to her boss with a finger in her mouth. “All perfect.” She cleaned off her fingers before grabbing the letter and handing it to him. “You just need to sign it.”
She knew Brice didn’t like her.
Well, she wasn’t sure if he liked her or not. When she’d first arrived at his company, she’d overheard him take out a bet with a couple of his buddies that she wouldn’t last six months. Two years in, and she was the best damn PA he’d ever experienced and she wasn’t blowing her own horn either.
She knew his office had never run so well. She’d been complimented on her efficiency many times. Not by Brice, of course.
He also liked to give her tasks that were not in her resume, but again, she didn’t mind. He wasn’t the first guy to demand she make coffee or run his dry-cleaning errands.
She’d had it all thrown at her. There was no way she could have gotten to thirty without having to deal with some asshole bosses.
Pushing her hair off her shoulder, she stood up and waited.
He looked over the letter. “Very good. In my office now, Bunny.”
When she first told him her name, he’d laughed. Her parents had to have been high when they named her and well, she had seen no reason to get it changed. She rather liked that her name was different and it meant she was always remembered. Not necessarily for all the right reasons, but nothing she could do about that.
Stepping around her desk, she walked into his office. Again, she was the one to clean it because he didn’t trust anyone else.
She sat down on the seat opposite his desk, watching him as he walked around it.
The long strands of her hair tickled her cheeks as the breeze picked up from his movements. Bunny knew she should put the long blond locks into a ponytail, but she liked having it free and unrestrained.
Crossing one leg over the other, she rested her fingers against her knee, waiting for him to tell her whatever he had to say.
“So, how long have you been with me now, Bunny?”
“Nearly two years, give or take.” She shrugged. What a strange question to ask. “Do you have a problem with my work?”
“No, I don’t.”
He took a seat behind his desk, and it was hard for her to look elsewhere. No one should look that good in a suit.
She’d never seen Brice in anything but his work attire, and he always had everything impeccably in place. Not a piece of hair out of order.
Brice didn’t seem interested in speeding this meeting along. She couldn’t help but glance down at her watch though.
“I hate to rush this, sir, but I would advise you that you have a meeting in ten minutes with Mr. Philips. You asked me to set it up three weeks ago.”
“Yes, I remember.” He stared at her. “Do you own something more than your work clothes?”
She glanced down at her outfit, feeling her brows knit in confusion. “Excuse me?” She glanced back up at him. “Of course.”
“How about something to wear to an evening dinner? A charity auction event.”
This made her pause.
She knew what gathering he was talking about. The charity auction was one she’d helped schedule for him. It was of particular interest to Brice, and he always donated heavily, and pushed for others to do so.
Licking her dry lips, she nodded. “Of course I have evening wear.”
Other than scheduling and fine-tuning some details, she’d never been asked to actually attend.
Don’t get ahead of yourself now.
“Good, I want you to attend the evening with me. I expect you to be in the perfect evening gown. I don’t want you to be the main headline the next morning.” He pulled out a credit card. “Take as long as you need, and don’t worry about expense. Get accessories as well.”