Chapter 3

The next day at work, Quinn would’ve bet her perky left tit that something was wrong. She hadn’t been able to place her finger on it but there was a shift in the air.

She’d arrived to the office a few minutes before eight, just so he wouldn’t find a reason to insult her. After arranging the files on his desk and placing a copy of his schedule on his desk, she went back to her office to continue her work. It was going to be a very busy day.

By the time he’d arrived, her confidence sunk down considerably. He looked exquisite in his three-piece suit and that chin he constantly had in the air, the arrogant prick. Still, she’d stood and offered him a ‘good morning’ with the widest smile she could muster.

Then everything changed.

“Good morning, Quinn.” He gave her a smile that threw her off balance. “I can call you Quinn, can I not?”

Blinking, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

He chuckled, stretching an arm towards her. “I got you coffee. I wasn’t sure what you liked so I went out on a limb and ordered a Double Espresso.”

Flummoxed, she stared at him. He’d gotten her coffee. He was smiling at her! Something had to be wrong.

She accepted the coffee with shaky hands, searching his face for the joke. There had to be one. When he didn’t suddenly shout ‘boo!’ and laugh, she asked, “Sir, are you alright?”

“Me? I’m just fine.” He smiled. And then his eyes roamed her body. Trish and Cassie had gone all out. She was wearing an elegant white double-breasted mini dress with sleeves and a moderate plunging neckline. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever worn. Cassie had urged her to let down her hair instead of the boring—as she called it—bun she always had on.

“Is that a new dress?” He asked in a low voice.

She blinked at the husky tone. His eyes were blazed, hazy. They were almost dark.

“Uh…” She licked her lips, feeling shy. “Yeah.”

His eyes were on mouth. Quinn didn’t quite understand what was happening. Why was he being so weird?

“Sir, I kept a copy of your schedule on your desk. You have an appointment with the MD of Price Inc. in an hour and lunch with your mother at twelve. After that, you have a general meeting with the office at two.”

He shook his head quickly, like he was recollecting himself. “Yes, thank you.” He made a move past her to his office and Quinn hadn’t known she was holding her breath until he walked away.

When he got to the knob, he paused, looking over his shoulder. “You look fucking sexy, by the way. I’m glad you took my suggestion.”

He slipped into his office, shutting the door behind him. Well, technically, she thought, it hadn’t been as much a suggestion as it had been an instruction but all the same.

Quinn couldn’t help but think something weird was happening in this office. First, he’d had a naked woman on his desk and then Mrs. Davis had told her about the bets and now she found out her boss was bipolar.

God, but if she didn’t need this job…

Sexy. He hadn’t used good or beautiful. He’d used sexy.

She sipped the coffee, thankful something good came out of all this. After yesterday, he’d given her all the company sales reports to analyze so her hands were packed. Other than a few anomalies here and there, there wasn’t much to fix. The last data analyst seemed like a real dick with the way he mixed up all the figure like he didn’t have eyes.

When the telephone on her desk rang, she got up without thinking.

She knocked twice, pushing the door open. “Sir, you called?”

The office was empty. That couldn’t have been right; she hadn’t seen him leave the office. She entered fully, shutting the door behind her.

“Yes, I did.”

She let out a surprised squeal, holding one hand to her chest. “Jesus Christ, Sir. You scared the living daylight out of me.”

He’d been standing behind the door. Quinn almost hit him. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Did you want something?” She asked, then took a step back when he took one forward. “Sir?”

Mr. Rhett had a menacing look on his face. “I could think of a few things.” He said huskily, inching closer to her.

Her back hit the door and she gasped as the breath was knocked out of her. She had nowhere to run, and Mr. Rhett kept coming closer. “Sir? Ever heard of personal space?”

He ignored her, taking another step forward until they were only a hairsbreadth away. She could feel his hot breath fanning her face. Being so close to him was doing delicious things to her body.

“Tell me something, Quinn.” His breath was cool yet hot. Quinn was trying to keep up. Blood was rushing to the little nub between her legs. “Did you wear this dress for me? Did you imagine the look on my face when you slid it onto your body?”

Her own breath was coming out in little pants. Her gaze was fixed on his, so spellbinding that she couldn’t look away. His words were nothing more than a whisper yet somehow they seemed to ring out in her ears.

“Did you hope to get my blood running? Did you smile when you envisioned my sigh of appreciation?”

He didn’t want for an answer. She wasn’t even sure he’d wanted one. Her legs suddenly left the ground and by the time she realized what was happening, Mr. Rhett had her hoisted on his waist.

Jesus. The man picked her up like she was air. Everything was happening way too fast. She hadn’t been able to process anything.

“Mr. Rhett.” She protested weakly.

“Call me Michael.” He drawled, burying his face in her neck.

She squealed when she felt his tongue on her skin. He was licking her. Was this part of her job description?

“Michael,” She let out a moan, snapping a hand to her mouth when she realized what she’d done.

“Fuck,” He moaned, his tongue moving to her cleavage. “Say it again.”

When he licked the part of her breasts that was visible, she gasped. “Michael.”

“Yes,” He hummed, repeating the action. “Do you want to me to fuck you? I see the way you look at me. Do you want me to take you from behind on my desk or against the wall?”

It might have been how crude his words were or the image of that first day when she’d saw him with that woman, but something made her push against him with all her might.

“Get the fuck away from me!” She panted, planting her feet on the ground.

The look of surprise on his face only aggravated her more and it took all of her strength to keep from hitting him on the face. “What the fuck do I look like to you, huh?” She spat out that words with disdain, knowing that most of her anger came from the fact that she’d allowed herself to get carried away.

“I thought—”

“You thought wrong!” She cut in. “Whatever idea it is you have in your head about me, I suggest you stab it with a knife and let it bleed dry because you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m here because unlike the rest of you rich fucks, I don’t have the privilege to get distracted. I have to work and earn every single penny that comes my way. My life is not a fucking bed of roses and I refuse to add your spoilt ass to my problems. I don’t give a fuck if you fire me, to be honest. If this is what working for the high and mighty Michael Rhett entails, then I don’t want any part of it. But I swear if you fucking touch me again, I will cut off your favorite appendage and feed it to you.”

His eyes were as wide as saucers; they almost popped out. She didn’t care. This was probably what he did to the other secretaries that made them quit. He was obviously in the habit of chasing any skirt he saw. Well, not hers. Hell would freeze over before she would let him touch her.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I must’ve read the entire situation wrong.”

She didn’t bother to ask what he meant by that. “I don’t care for your apology. Are you going to fire me?”

He stared at her for a short moment, and she feared he would fire her. When he shook his head, she let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding. “No. Of course not.”

“Good. I’ll be in my office then.”

What she would’ve liked, she thought as she left the office, would have been to go home but she didn’t want to push her luck. Though she was still reeling from the incident, this job still meant a lot to her.

What had he meant by ‘reading the entire situation wrong’? Had she somehow given off the impression that she was sexually attracted to him? Well, she was but she didn’t think she’d made it that obvious. And what the fuck had he been talking about her dressing for him? God, the man was infuriating. He’d been the one to instruct her on wearing more flattering clothes and now he turned around to say she was dolling up for him?

The nerve.

He was lucky he’d gotten off with more than a push. If it had been back in those days when she used to beat up boys for being too touchy, she’d have knocked him out for at least two days.

She was still reeling when a sharp rush of air shot past her.

“Uncle Michael!”

Quinn blinked, wondering why the sharp rush of air had the voice of a little girl.

“Oh, God. I swear she’s out to kill me.”

This voice belonged to an older woman, she was sure.

“Oh, hi. Are you the new secretary?”

When Quinn lifted her eyes, she was blinded by the beauty that hit her in the gut. The face she was looking at was an older version of her boss’s, only feminine. The wrinkles that formed at the corners of her eyes when she smiled did nothing to diminish the beautiful force of it. Her eyes were warm and the exact shade as his. Her hair was a dark blond, yet it shone to perfection. She had to ask her what product she was using on them now that she would soon have enough money to buy whatever she wanted. Something told her—and it was not the graceful poise with which the woman held herself upright—that she was someone very important. Maybe his older sister, given how young she looked.

Catching herself, she smiled back. “Yes, I am.”

The woman chuckled. “How long have you been working here, love?”

She was almost scared to answer. “Three days, ma’am.”

The woman raised a brow. “And you haven’t quit yet?”

Quinn couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped her. “Not at all, ma’am.”

“You don’t plan to?”

She shook her head. “No, ma’am.”

Suddenly, she let out a laugh. “I like you. What’s your name, sweetie?”

Quinn felt herself blush. “Quinn Faye, ma’am.”

“Oh, please,” She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “None of that ma’am nonsense. Call me Cindy.”

“She will do no such thing.”

Mr. Rhett suddenly appeared and stood in front of his office, a snarl on his face. On his arms was a little girl of about four years old and she had her arms locked around his neck. Unlike him, there was a wide smile plastered on her face.

“Mom, please. This is my employee, and I won’t have you talking to her like she’s your playmate. She has work to do.”

“Well, it’s my company too, isn’t it? I think we can both agree that I have the power to decide who I speak to and who I don’t.”

His mom? Jesus, she was so young. Quinn’s eyes travelled from mother and son and then to the kid in his arms. Wait. Was that his child or something?

“Absolutely not.”

Cindy—yes, Quinn had decided to call her that, fuck him—scoffed, flipping her hair. “I came to take you to lunch. Are you free now?”

Mr. Rhett rolled his eyes. “Like that has ever stopped you. Let’s go. And you need to stop showing up here unannounced, mom. It’s annoying.”

“Shut up and walk. It’s my company. I’ll show up whenever I feel like it.” She huffed, then looked to Quinn. “Sweetie, have you had lunch?”

Quinn shook her head; reluctantly meeting Mr. Rhett’s blazing eyes. She wanted to remind him how minutes ago, he’d disrespected her. There was absolutely no reason he should be staring at her like she’d stolen the last cookie in the plate. If anything, she was the one who deserved to be angry.

“Come on, then. Let’s go.”

“What?” She and Mr. Rhett echoed their surprised at the same time.

“You heard me.”

“Did you not hear when I said she had work to do?”

“And she’s also a human being who needs to eat to have the strength to do that work. God knows you’ll have her sitting her and staring at a screen until closing time. Now, Quinn, let’s go.”

She hoped to God she wasn’t going to lose her job. The look on his face wasn’t encouraging in the least and he was her boss.

“Ma’am—I mean, Cindy,” She let out. “It’s really not a bother. I can just order something here.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Cindy smiled widely, and Quinn thought she saw her eyes twinkle.

She couldn’t help but return the smile. She nodded, standing up and gathering her small bag. She was wondering how someone so playful and cheerful could have mothered such a gloomy idiot when he spoke up.

“Fine, but don’t think for one second that we’re family friends or some shit. You’re still my secretary.”

And data analyst, she added silently.

“Oh, don’t be such a grumpy old man, Michael. And mind your language, there’s a child present.” She tapped him at the back of his head.

“Sorry, mom.” He muttered, rubbing his head.