Her Billionaire Boss Read online

  “I can’t wait to check out embarrassing pictures on the mantle,” I said as I walked into my office.

  I made a few calls, arranging a flight in my jet for tomorrow night, after work. My pilot wasn’t thrilled to give up his Friday night but I offered him more money than he could refuse. I tried not to think too hard about why I was doing all this to impress Chelsea. As I finished with the plans, there was a knock at my door.

  “Come in,” I called out.

  “Hey,” Martin said, as he opened the door. “You busy?”

  “Not really,” I said, and he walked in, closing the door behind himself.

  “So, that’s the new assistant, huh?” he asked, taking a seat across from me and propping his feet up on the edge of my desk.

  “Yes. You met her at the restaurant, remember?”

  “Sure, but I haven’t seen you since then.”

  “And?”

  “And…she’s cute.”

  “Aren’t you trying to date Tracy?”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that I’m blind to other good-looking women. Does it bother you?”

  “That you think she’s cute? Not at all,” I said honestly. It would bother me if she thought he was attractive, but I kept that to myself.

  “Interesting. And what do you think of her?”

  I sighed and leaned back in my chair, folding my hands behind my head. “I think she’s more than just cute; she’s interesting. She’s a hard-working rule follower, but she’s also funny and passionate. She cares about people, but she’s also tough as nails when she needs to be. Most importantly, she’s not afraid to call me out on my crap.”

  “Wow. It sounds like you have a crush.”

  “Maybe,” I said, knowing he was absolutely right.

  “So, why not go for it? I’ve never known you not to chase after something, or someone, you want. And you have a tendency to get your way.”

  “It’s complicated. We work together.”

  “So what?”

  “You don’t think that dating my assistant would be a problem?”

  “I think it’d be fun,” he said, wagging his eyebrows. “Think of all the opportunities to slip away and have some privacy.”

  “Think of the backlash if anyone found out that the vice president of Production, Inc. was dating an employee.”

  “Then no one needs to find out. Ooh, a forbidden romance. How…tantalizing,” Martin raised one eyebrow and steepled his fingers together.

  “You joke, but I’m starting to think that’s where things are heading. The more time I spend with her, the more I want her.”

  “You guys need to spend some time together outside of work, see what happens.”

  “We have. And this weekend I’m going with her to her hometown to visit her family.”

  “What? How did that happen?”

  “I offered her use of my plane and to accompany her. We have work to do.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” he teased.

  “Why are you here anyway? Or did you just come to harass me about my love life?”

  “Actually, I need a favor, and it works out perfectly that you’ll be out of town this weekend. Can I use your house for a date Saturday night?”

  “What’s wrong with your house?”

  “I’m getting the floors redone. I thought it’d be finished in time, but I was wrong. Saturday is Tracy’s birthday, and I promised I’d make her dinner myself.”

  “You seem pretty serious about this girl.”

  “I like her.”

  “Okay then,” I said. “Use the house. Just don’t leave a catastrophe behind in the kitchen. The housekeeper only comes twice a week.”

  “It’s a deal,” he agreed. He stood and stretched his arms over his head. “Thanks, man.”

  When Martin departed, he left the door open. Sitting at my desk, I looked out and saw Chelsea. She was reading something on her computer screen, nibbling on her bottom lip and twirling her hair between her fingers.

  Martin was right; I should just go for it. The chemistry was there, and I was starting to think it was worth the risk. This weekend would be the perfect chance to make her mine.

  Chapter 13

  Chelsea

  I had never been on a plane until I left Clifton for San Jose. That was a commercial flight and definitely not first-class. I had been in the middle seat between an overweight man on the aisle and an old lady by the window that had squeezed by me to use the bathroom an incredible four times during the two-hour flight.

  It was not a comfortable ride, to say the least.

  Jay’s private jet was so different, it felt silly to even compare the two experiences. I climbed the steps of the plane, with my carry-on hanging off one shoulder, and felt my jaw drop open at the luxury inside.

  Most of the interior was an open space, containing large seats positioned against the windows, a huge flat screen TV, and even a couch. Jay was sitting in one of the seats, sipping from a glass of amber liquid and scrolling through his phone. I walked into the cabin, placing my bag on the couch. Jay looked up at the sound.

  “Well, what do you think?” he asked, stretching his arms out to indicate the space around us.

  “Luxurious,” I said, hooking my thumbs into the belt loops of my shorts.

  “I’m glad you approve. The flight plan has us leaving in ten minutes, so get comfortable. I don’t usually bother with a stewardess on short flights like this; I figure we can fend for ourselves,” he said, indicating to a wet bar that I hadn’t noticed behind his seat. “We have snacks and drinks.”

  “I’m good, but how about a bathroom?”

  “Other end of the plane,” he said.

  The bathroom was huge, with a clear glass shower stall and full-sized vanity. Even the toilet seat was heated. This really was traveling in style. As I left the bathroom, I noticed the door next to it and paused, my curiosity piqued.

  “That’s the bedroom. It’s pretty basic, just a bed and a closet,” Jay said, drawing my attention away. “You can check it out if you want.”

  “Uh, no. That’s okay.”

  I was too busy checking something else out. Now that Jay was standing, I could see that he was wearing casual clothes. It was the first time I had seen him dressed like this, in a tight black t-shirt and jeans that clung to his hips and legs. His chest was broad, and I could make out the thick muscles of his thighs.

  I realized I was staring and the smirk on Jay’s face told me that he had noticed. Heat flooded my cheeks and I ducked my head as I made my way past him to the wet bar. Selecting a sweet red wine from the small refrigerator under the counter, I poured myself a glass, hoping that the cold liquid would somehow cool my heated blood.

  As the plane took off, we strapped ourselves into our seats until we were fully airborne. I watched out the window as the ground fell away and we were immersed in the clouds. The sky was blue around us and the sun bright.

  We both unbuckled our seatbelts but stayed seated, side-by-side.

  “How’s the wine?” he asked, as I took a drink.

  “Good. Sweet red is my favorite.”

  “That reminds me, I was thinking about your champagne story, the one where you stole a sip from your mom at the wedding?”

  “Yeah?”

  “So, where is your mom these days? You specifically said we were going to visit your dad this weekend. Will she be there?”

  I took another drink of wine before answering, trying to stave off my response for a brief moment as a familiar pain surged within me.

  “No, she passed away about eight years ago,” I answered, my eyes trained on my lap. There was a moment of silence before Jay reached over and laid his hand upon my free one.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks,” I said, my throat thick.

  “Can I ask what happened?”

  “She had a brain aneurysm. She was at the store one day, doing the grocery shopping, and she just collapsed. It was instant.”

  “You wer
en’t with her, were you?” Jay asked, and I shook my head.

  “No, but my sister was. She’s two years older than me, so I guess that she would’ve been eighteen at the time. It was hard on her, and she had nightmares for weeks. I think she even saw a therapist for a while. But I have to admit that I’m glad mom wasn’t alone when it happened.”

  “I understand that. My mom passed away when I was little, too young to remember her. I’ve never quite been able to decide if that’s a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, I never really missed her, just longed for the concept of her, if you know what I mean. But now that I’m a grown man, I do wish that I had known her in real life, not just through my dad’s stories.”

  I squeezed his hand that was still holding my own, offering comfort without words.

  “Did your dad ever remarry?” I asked.

  “No, he’s dated a few women over the years, but nothing seems to stick for him.”

  “So, you’ve never had a maternal figure in your life?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had my grandmother. My dad’s mom. She moved in with us after my mom died, so I grew up with her keeping me in line.”

  “Ah, that poor woman,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Right?” he chuckled. “I have to admit that I’m responsible for quite a few of her gray hairs. But she’s also my biggest fan. I’ll have to introduce her to you sometime.”

  I couldn’t help but smile widely at that. I’d love to meet the woman that could reign in a trouble-maker like Jay.

  “It’s great that you had her in your life,” I said. “I can also see now why you have such a strong bond with your dad.”

  “Yeah, he’s always been there for me. That’s why I took the VP job. Yeah, the perks are nice, the pay, the corner office, but I really just want to make him proud.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I said. I had seen the way that Mr. Keller looked at his son. His was thrilled to have Jay working at the company.

  “I hope so. The man casts a long shadow.”

  “I’m positive you’re more than up to the task of filling his shoes someday.”

  We lapsed into silence after that, sipping our drinks and enjoying each other’s company. We pulled our hands apart at the same time, the coordination of the movement helping to eliminate any vexing feelings about the contact.

  Despite the close quarters, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. There was no need to fill the time with forced small talk. In fact, I felt bonded to Jay by our shared loss, as if losing our mothers had formed a tether between the two of us. It was a connection forged in tragedy.

  Surrounded by all this extravagance, in a private jet, for goodness sake, the differences between us were highlighted. Money was the big one. He had it. I didn’t. But that seemed small after our conversation.

  He was also a bit of an arrogant party boy, but that could be connected to the money as well. Would I be more carefree about my responsibilities if I’d grown up rich?

  Probably.

  It turned out that there was much more to Jay than all that. He was a good man. Flawed, but trying to be better. And I was falling for him fast.

  Chapter 14

  Jay

  I had traveled a lot in my life. I had seen the Rome Colosseum and walked on the Great Wall of China. I had vacationed in the Bahamas and accompanied my dad on business trips to most major U.S. cities. I had seen a lot.

  The town of Clifton wasn’t a center of cultural influence or the home of a great wonder of the world. It didn’t even have a shopping mall, the closest one being in a city thirty minutes away. But the place was charming.

  I couldn’t think of a better word to describe it as we drove into town, using its only rental car. Not the only available one: the only one to exist at all. It was an old Ford Focus, and the passenger seat was stuck in its position way too close to the dashboard. My knees were jammed against the plastic uncomfortably.

  Main Street was lined with lovely restored buildings that Chelsea informed me had been originally been built in the mid- to late-1800s. Brick walls and glass storefronts combined with wide sidewalks and wrought-iron streetlamps to give the area a classic, old-time feeling.

  There were mom-and-pop shops, kept authentic by the faded signs over the doorways, providing the best evidence that the business had been around just about forever; restaurants that were in the middle of their dinner rush; and even an old dive bar on the corner with a marquee sign on the sidewalk in front advertising a local band starting at eight. The most modern building I saw looked to be a bowling alley with bright neon letters casting the sidewalk in shades of blue and pink. Chelsea explained that the place had been built ten years ago when the old bait shop had burned down.

  “How many people live in this town?” I asked, curiously. There seemed to be a lot of people on the street, walking along and often greeting each other. Many of them had dogs on leashes or babies in strollers.

  “Almost five thousand. It’s a small community.”

  “I’ll say.”

  Chelsea turned left, leaving Main Street, and parked along the street two blocks away. “Well, this is it. Home sweet home.”

  I stepped out of the small car and stretched, the blood rushing back into my legs with a stinging pins-and-needles feeling. I looked up to see the house in front of us was a two-story home with white siding and a big bay window front and center that was opened to let in the cool air. There were neatly trimmed bushes in a row along the side of the porch, which was made of poured concrete and metal pillars. There was a white wooden swing hanging on it.

  Chelsea came around the car to join me, and we walked to the house side-by-side. She didn’t bother knocking when we reached the front door, just grabbed the doorknob and twisted. The door hinges squeaked as she pushed it open and we stepped over the threshold.

  We were in a small foyer as we entered, with stone flooring and a piano against the wall. The ceiling was high, and the walls were wood-paneled. The room would’ve been dark, but sheer white curtains hung on the windows, allowing lots of sunlight to filter in. There was a staircase to my right and, beyond it, I could see the living room. Ahead, the foyer opened to a dining room. I heard a wet-sounding cough and Chelsea led the way toward it, with me trailing behind.

  We passed through the living room, with its thick gray carpeting and black, faux-leather couch and loveseat combo. The open bay window was here, and the breeze combined with a ceiling fan to make the room nice and cool.

  Chelsea had gotten ahead of me as I slowed down to observe my surroundings, so I hurried ahead to catch up to her. The kitchen was just off the living room, and I could see the dining room once again to the left. So, it appeared these four rooms were all connected.

  The kitchen was small but it had a warm feeling. The floor matched the foyer and dining room, and the cabinets were a bright and spotless white. The source of the coughing was an older man that had to be Chelsea’s dad.

  He was standing at the narrow kitchen island, preparing himself a cup of hot tea by pouring steaming water from a kettle into a mug with a teabag. He looked up as we entered, looking mildly surprised.

  “Hey there, princess. Why didn’t you call when you got in? I could’ve picked you guys up,” he said to Chelsea.

  “Don’t worry about that, Dad,” she answered, hurrying forward to pull him into a hug. “We rented the car.”

  “That little Focus? They still renting out that old thing?”

  “Well, it gets the job done,” she replied, shrugging. Then, she returned to my side. I saw her biting her lip, her telltale sign of nerves. “Dad, this is my boss, Jay.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir.” I held my hand out, and he gripped it tightly

  “Please, call me Elliott. So, you’re the man that’s been keeping my little girl on her toes.”

  “It’s more like the other way around,” I replied. “I swear she times my lunch breaks.”

  Elliott laughed, coughed, and took a long sip of his tea. “That sounds abo
ut right,” he said. “Since she moved out, I’ve been late to work for the first time in years. She used to practically push me out the door in the morning, whether I was ready or not.”

  “Well, someone has to keep the two of you going,” she said testily. I smiled at the sour look on her face. I supposed we should stop ganging up on her.

  “Aw, I’m sorry. I always appreciated you,” Elliott said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “And I’m sure Jay does too.”

  I nodded vehemently while Elliott sneezed violently.

  “Have you seen a doctor like I told you to?” Chelsea asked him, concern printed on her face. He nodded.

  “I went to Dr. Kettleman this morning. He says I have pneumonia.”

  “That’s serious,” she fretted. “Why are you out of bed? You need to rest.”

  “I wanted my tea,” he said, shrugging.

  “Thank goodness I came. Go ahead and lay down, get as much sleep as you can. Did the doctor give you any medicine?”

  “Some antibiotics and cough medicine, but I already took both.”

  “Okay, good. I’ll come check on you in a bit but let me know if you need anything before then,” Chelsea instructed, following him through the living room and to the base of the stairs. I wandered out into the living room, taking the opportunity to check out the framed pictures that hung on the wall.

  There were several photos of Chelsea, showcasing various phases of her life. She was often pictured with an older girl that she bore a striking resemblance to. That must be her sister. I saw her mother too, and it was clear that Chelsea’s freckles were inherited from her.

  There were pictures of the four family members at birthday parties and Christmases, Elliott teaching his girls to change a tire, and both sisters dressed as princesses for Halloween. I was looking at a collection of various school photos when I heard Chelsea come up behind me. I could feel the warmth of her body as she got close enough to look over my shoulder.

  “Tell me,” I said, turning to look at her over my shoulder. “What’s the deal with this haircut?”

  “Oh no, I can’t believe he has that one framed! What is he thinking?”