Brazen Bossman: A Hero Club Novel

for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.” I shift my bag on my shoulder. She’s right, by the way. He is, without a doubt, one of the most attractive men I’ve ever laid eyes on in person. The tall, dark, handsome, panties evaporate at the sight of him type of hot. It’s unfortunate he’s a fucking fuckface.
“I guess I’ll go brave The Asshole. If I die in there, just know you were always my best friend, I love you, and I don’t regret our experimentation phase in college.” I give her a smile.
She places her hand over her heart. “Swoon. Me neither.” With a shake of the head, she waves me on. “Get out of here.”
We confirm that we will grab lunch together before I make my way down the hallway toward the main offices in the back. I pass by the small row of cubicles and offices with their doors open, delivering coffees, making small talk and pleasantries. I stop by my desk angled just off to the side at the end of the hall. I have a little window and a lovely view, and it makes me happy. I strip out of my jacket, adjusting my pencil skirt and white top that is tucked in.
I still when I hear a deep voice shouting from the other side of the wall that I share with The Asshole. He’s really letting someone have it, which can only mean wonderful things for me. Note the sarcasm.
Did I mention I’m his secretary? It’s a joy, really. And yes, that was also sarcasm.
After seriously contemplating spitting in his coffee, I snatch it out of the carrier and stand in front of the frosted glass door with his name—Nathanial Lennox—emblazoned across in a black, strong font. I take a breath and pray to whichever higher being exists that I don’t snap on this fucker today.
“I need this job. I need this job. I need this job,” I whisper to myself as I knock on his door.
I hear him slam his phone back onto the receiver. “Come in.”
I twist the sleek, silver handle and push the door open.
He’s seated behind his desk, looking exactly like the rich, sexy, powerful asshole he is.
It pains me every time I see him because he is truly beautiful, with his stunningly dark eyes and broad shoulders. Too bad his personality makes him about as appealing as a slide down a fire ant hill into a pool of rubbing alcohol, all while wearing a skirt and no panties.
He’s already lost his tie and the top buttons of his shirt are undone. His hair is mussed up like he’s been running his hands through it. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about sliding my hands through it in the throes of ecstasy, but the fantasy quickly changes to me gripping hard on the strands and tossing him into a wall.
“Drip coffee with oat milk.” I hold up the cup before placing it on his desk.
“You’re late,” he gruffs before taking a drink of his coffee.
“I don’t believe I am, actually.” I nod toward the clock on his wall. “That clock has been five minutes fast for years.”
He checks the watch on his wrist then gives me a nod before his eyes come to rest on my face.
Then, I swear, his eyes drop down to my body so briefly I think I may have even imagined it.
Heat spreads over my skin and my cheeks flush red.
Christ’s sake, Piper. It’s not been that long since you’ve had sex. This is a human response to imagined physical appreciation from a fucking stunning asshole of a man. Get it together.
“Can I get you anything else before I begin my day?” I ask him with a forced smile.
“A hot coffee. This one,” he holds up his cup, “is cold.”
My fingertips tingle with the urge to snatch the coffee away and tell him exactly where he can shove it.
“Actually,” he continues before I can say anything. “Forget the coffee. I have a meeting across town in fifteen minutes.”
“Better get moving then.” I clear my throat. “I’ll call the car for you.”
“And tell them to move quickly and if they can’t, I’ll find someone who can. I don’t feel like waiting around today.”
“Yes, sir,” I sneer, before turning around and leaving his office, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
I need this job. I need this job. I need this job.
***
Five o’clock can’t come any faster. I have even taken to clock-watching the last fifteen minutes, because with Sir Asshole in and out of meetings all day, there hasn’t been much for me to do, other than field calls and work on his schedule.
I am tapping my pen against my desk, to the beat of the ticking clock in my brain, when my name sliding through the air on a voice with a timbre so deep and velvety it sends shivers up my back.
“Piper.”
I look up into the stormy eyes of my boss.
He is standing across from me at my desk and from my position; he’s positively towering over me.
His shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows now, and he still hasn’t put the tie back on. He oozes deliciousness.
“I don’t pay you to daydream.”
And there is it. The Asshole.
“I wasn’t daydreaming. I was counting. I have a lot to do this evening, and the last five minutes seem to be moving at a snail’s pace.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Well, sorry to put a damper on the evening, but I need you to stay a little later tonight.”
I have to fight the actual urge to chuck a stapler at him.
“I’m sorry. I have plans this evening and…”
“It isn’t voluntary, Piper.” He pulls out his cell phone and slides his thumb across the screen. “I need the spreadsheets and handouts for the meeting tomorrow prepped and ready to go. It was moved up to the morning.”
“Mr. Lennox, I can do those things from my laptop at home or I can be here bright