Seduced By My Billionaire Boss

“China.”

I paused, one foot still in the air. The entire merger was with China.

“What...does that mean?”

“Harks, I hate to do this to you. Lord knows you had enough on your plate with this being your first week and all, but we need this. You just spent the last night learning all of this by heart, and you certainly proved you knew your stuff at the presentation yesterday.”

Proved I knew how to be a human piñata was more like it.

“Ms. Macer, I just don’t think I can—”

“I’m not asking you to do the whole thing. PR is handling human relations, legal will be refining the language, Jamie’s writing the section on all future contingencies, and me and the rest of the team are mapping out past and present risk assessment. All I need you to do is figure out where we start with both companies now. The actual merger, part of the merger.”

So...write the merger.

My automatic whirlwind of refusals and denials caught in my throat with a single word.

Larchwood.

This was what it took.

All at once, my priorities shifted. The limits and capabilities of what I could do suddenly stretched beyond the horizon. That confident girl was back. And she’d come just in time.

“I’m going to need copies of all the latest stock reports sent to my fax immediately—the home number is on file. And I’m going to need constant access with whatever regional director has been assigned to this part of the project. I don’t want to be emailing back and forth trying to get approval for each new section—I need someone on the ground.”

I found myself throwing out commands like a seasoned general, and what was even more surprising was that Macer didn’t bat an eye.

“Of course—whatever you need. The papers are already coming through.”

I heard my fax machine buzzing from the living room, followed by the sound of a hundred papers falling to the floor.

“And as for the regional director—this is technically Michael’s territory. He’ll be your liaison for the day.”

An image of a glistening, mouthwatering Michael grinning up at me from beneath the weights flashed through my mind, and I faltered.

“Um, actually... Not that there’s a problem, but if anyone else was available—”

She completely ignored this. “I’m texting you his number. Call his cell and arrange a time to meet. I suggest you make it sooner rather than later.”

My mouth went dry, but I shook my head and made a spur of the moment decision to just make the best of it. Michael was capable, after all. No matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“Alright—I’ll get on it right away.”

I was about to hang up when I heard her voice echoing again through the phone—as uncertain and anxious as I’d ever heard it.

“Harks?”

I froze in place, caught off guard by her hesitation. “Yes?”

“I appreciate it.”

Then the line clicked off.

I stared at it for a moment before Rose’s sleepy voice broke through my reverie. “Jen? Do you know that there’s a mountain of papers piling up in the living room?” I heard her start the coffee maker and said a silent prayer of relief. “I think someone’s trying to send you a book.”

“I’ll be there in a minute!” I called, still rooting around in my closet.

I had pulled out my normal work attire, thinking it to be appropriate, but after hearing that I was going to be working with Michael, I was rethinking it. After a moment, I decided that he would appreciate a more casual take on the day, and went from my closet to my dresser—pulling out a pair of black jeans and a simple, stylish shirt. He wore jeans to the office, maybe this was how he liked to work. And I needed him focused today, damnit. There was no time for his usual games.

I yanked on the clothes and tried unsuccessfully to run a brush through my tousled bed hair. In the end, I decided that ‘grunge chic’ would have to be acceptable and whipped out my cell phone again as I pulled on my shoes. I dialed the number Patti had sent over and waited on pins and needles for him to pick up.

After three languid rings, there was finally a noise on the other end.

“Who is this?” came a sleepy voice, half muffled by a pillow. “How did you get this number?”