The New Boss: An Office Romance

I’m not an idiot. I know I’m attractive. I work hard to keep myself that way. People underestimate the value of looking good in business. If you’re attractive, people trust you more and your work is just a little easier. But I’ve never slept with any of my secretaries; I’ve never wanted to until now.

It’s just a physical reaction. Chemistry. I’ll get over it. I can be professional.

But as I work throughout the day, my thoughts keep straying to the curvy brunette. I keep wondering what she’s doing and where she is in her orientation. I’ve been keeping an eye on my outer office, but I’ve only seen a couple glimpses of her.

I’m so distracted that I don’t get nearly enough done. And I’m still thinking about her long after the sun is set. Finally, I give in, and I pull up the email that I got from HR with her résumé.

Pretty standard. A handful of office jobs here and there. All good recommendations, and good grades in college. But she doesn’t have a business degree like so many of my employees and former assistants have had. She has a degree in acting.

Brooke Stewart is certainly beautiful enough to be an actress. That’s for sure.

I shouldn’t google her, but I do. She’s the first result, and the website I click on has her gorgeous eyes staring out at me from the screen. Even the photo feels like her eyes are punching me in the gut. In a good way. In a dangerous way.

She has a bunch of headshots and a bio that sums up what was on her résumé. It’s not a super complicated website, just somewhere for casting directors to touch base if they see her and want to find out a little more. Smart.

The last thing I click on is a link her reels. In L.A., you see a lot of them. You have friends who are actors, and they ask you to watch them. So I’ve seen my share. There are a few videos on the page.

And the minute that I click play, I’m sucked in. She has an honesty and a vibrancy that pours through the screen. The first reel is her smiling and laughing. Some kind of party scene. I’m not really paying attention to the words—just to her. She’s so fucking beautiful that I can’t look away.

The second reel is more dramatic. She’s emotional and tears stream out of her eyes. I tune into her voice then. A rich alto that’s talking about heartbreak and how she can’t do this anymore. I have no context for the words that she’s saying, but I want to make her feel better. Pull her into my arms and fix it.

One thing is for sure, Brooke Stewart is a damn good actress.

The final reel is a little different. Brooke is wearing darker make-up and a silky red shirt that clings to her curves and shows everything. It drops low and reveals enough cleavage that I want to see more.

This scene is clearly a seduction. She’s looking at the camera and flirting. Smiling and looking away and back again, glancing up from under her lashes. I have a flash of her on her knees, looking up at me with those same eyes, and I can hardly breathe.

Fuck.

I’m going to have to get myself under control before tomorrow when she’s here and I have to see her. Heat is building in my skin, and my cock is rock fucking hard. What is it about her? I’ve never encountered a woman that’s gotten under my skin so quickly before.

The video ends, and I stare at the frozen image of her for long seconds before I shove myself up out of my chair. I need a drink. A cold fucking drink.

A cold shower would be better, but I shouldn’t go home yet. I really should keep working. Thinking about Brooke won’t help, and neither will the drink, probably, but I’ll give it a go.

I pour myself a finger of whiskey and look out over the city. It’s bright and alive. This is one of my favorite views, looking out over the sprawling, glittering wasteland.

There’s a bump and a soft curse from the outer office. It startles me for a moment. Everyone should have gone home by now, and I thought I was alone. At least I hope I am, because I don’t love the idea of someone hearing me watch the acting reels of my new secretary.

Setting the glass on my desk, I head to the doorway and freeze.

The very woman that’s stuck in my thoughts is in front of me, organizing some papers at the desk. She doesn’t know that I’m here. Yet. She picks up the stack of papers, and in seconds, she’ll see me.

“Working late?”

Brooke lets out a little shriek, and the papers go flying, followed by her. It makes me smile. So far, I’ve had two encounters with this woman and both times she’s somehow ended up on the floor.