The Boss hole (An Enemies To Lovers Romance)

I checked the time on my phone. “I’m sorry. I really can’t afford to be late.” I was trying my best to keep my cool. This was my one shot to prove everybody wrong. Maxi for thinking she could fire me on some bullshit trick. My father for thinking my only value was to marry me off and get some favor with a friend. And now my chance was in danger because some asshole from the editorial team was throwing a tantrum in there?

Martha blew out a breath, eyes shifting toward the closed doors again. “You’re sure you want to go in right now?”

“I have to,” I said.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

I noticed a handy little map of the offices by the door with everything neatly labeled. I ran my finger down the directory on the side, then found where the number matching “Mr. White” was. “Yes. I think I can find my way.”

Martha nodded, then held the door open. I noticed she didn’t take a single step into the room, and I grinned a little. I thought maybe she was playing up her fear for comedic effect. Nobody could really be that scared of a little office drama, right?

She pulled the door closed behind me as soon as I was inside. I was in a relatively large office with various desks and computers scattered around. All of the ten or so people in the room were hunched over at their computer like they were pretending not to hear the tirade going on.

The only man standing had his palms on someone’s desk.

I ignored the fact that he was clearly lecturing someone and very much pissed. My brain shut all that down as soon as I saw the absolute specimen of a man doing the yelling.

He was dressed in a tie and slacks with his sleeves buttoned to the wrist and a diamond-checkered vest across his muscular torso. He was leaning over the desk and every muscle in his long arms stood against the white fabric. I couldn’t quite see his face from where I stood, but I didn’t even need to. I could’ve looked at this guy’s ear and known he wasn’t born a mortal human. He was delivered to earth via a lightning bolt from some angry god’s ass. And, yes, that method of delivery almost definitely resulted in a face fit for Greek sculptures.

“Gather your things,” the man said. He had a deep voice that cut through the room like a steel whip. “I want your desk cleared out within the hour.”

“I could try to-”

“I won’t allow you to fuck this up any further than you already have. You have an hour,” he said.

I wasn’t sure if it was the train wreck of a day I’d been having or maybe temporary amnesia caused by the blinding hotness of Mr. Ass Lightning over there, but something came over me… I was marching straight toward them with pure rage on my mind.

“Do you have to talk to him like that?” I demanded.

The man’s face whipped toward me. He stood up straighter, giving me a full, belly clenching view of everything he was working with. From the looks of it, he wasn’t just working with the full kitchen. He’d taken over an industrial kitchen supply store and had more inventory than he knew what to do with. And those cheekbones.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. You, though? You’re an insecure, egotistical asshole. I just thought you should know that.”

“Next time you want to play hero, wear a cape.”

I opened my mouth in disbelief. “You’re-”

Thunderbolt Cheeks stuck his forefinger out faster than I could react, pressing it against my lips. If I’d been less worked up, I might’ve bit him to teach him what happens when you assume you can put your hands on a stranger. Instead, I just stood there dumbfounded as I stared into those blazing blue pits of dream juice he called eyes.

“This is my world,” he said with a voice that probably could slice stones in two. “Make something of yourself if you want that opinion of yours to mean anything.”

I realized the entire room was staring at us with slack jaws. Even the guy who had been getting verbally reamed looked like he wished I would just stop talking. Why did they put up with this?

“You know what?” I asked, trying not to take a deep rapturous breath of whatever scent he was wearing. Sex God? Naked on a horse? Black and white lumberjack? Whatever it was, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I needed to create distance while I still could. “I don’t have time for this. I have a meeting with him.” I pointed to the door to Mr. White’s office, where I saw the silhouette of someone moving around inside. “I bet he’ll love to hear how you’re treating people out here.”