Boyfriend for Hire(54)
“I get why Ryder does it, but you— I mean, you run a successful business. Obviously, there’s a brain knocking around in that skull somewhere.” I try to smile, but my attempt at a joke doesn’t just crash and burn, it erupts into a fiery volcano threatening to take me with it.
He looks more annoyed that I made it sound like they’re drug dealers or criminals, or possibly because I implied he must be stupid. Which I don’t really believe; it just came out wrong.
“Don’t kid yourself,” he says sharply. “Fucking is what I’m good at. But tell me, why does Ryder do it?”
“Basically? To piss our parents off. He’s always been a manwhore, and this way he can get paid for what he was doing already without having to blow through his trust fund.”
Case’s easy expression falters. Maybe he didn’t know Ryder has a trust fund. I assume he knows we come from money, and I assume he now knows that I have a trust fund too. I just hope he doesn’t judge me for it. As far as I’m concerned, that’s my parents’ money, not mine. And I intend to work for what I have.
“I like to fuck. It’s really that simple, Sienna.”
The sound of my name leaving his lips makes my lungs constrict with something hot and uncomfortable.
“Nothing is that simple.” And if he actually believes that, he’s an idiot. “What’s your end game?”
“My what?” His expression is part mild irritation and part amusement at my fifty questions. He turns his big body away from the desk so he’s facing me.
“I’m just trying to put the pieces together here.” I tap my pen on my knee.
He sits back in the chair and folds his hands behind his head, which makes his biceps look huge. A slight grin tilts his full lips. “Tell me everything that’s on your mind. All at once.”
“I’m not sleeping with you.” Oh my God. Did I just say that? Out loud? Fuck!
“Never asked you to.”
I swallow the lump that’s now lodged in my throat. “I’m here to work. That’s it. I don’t want to hear about your conquests. I don’t want to know what goes on when you leave here for appointments. The only thing I’m here to do is to help you in this office.”
“Perfect. Then we’re on the same page.”
“Oh, and since I graduated at the top of my class from a top-tier university, I’d appreciate something more challenging than data entry.”
He smirks at me. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I guess I’ll get to work, then.”
Turning back to my laptop, I take a deep breath. I know I’ve completely overstepped my bounds, and I have no idea why I lost my shit on him.
I open a browser and pull up my email to fire off a quick message to my best friend, Allison.
To: Allison Garner
From: Sienna Johnson
Subject: First Day of Work
I’ve been in the “office” (more of a mansion—I’ll explain later) for all of an hour, and I think my boss already hates me. Best part? My desk is five feet away from him. Remind me why I’m doing this again?
Before I can even open a new spreadsheet to continue with my task, my email dings with a response from Allison.
To: Sienna Johnson
From: Allison Garner
Subject: Eyes on the Prize
To fill time between worrying about grad school and chasing down a summer fling. That’s why you’re doing this. Don’t lose sight of your goals, girl. Give your boss the finger for me. We’ll drink about it soon.
A giggle escapes me at the thought. Flipping off my boss my first day on the job? Talk about the fast lane to getting fired.
“What’s so funny?” Case gives me a suspicious look from behind his computer monitor.
“Oh, just an email.” I close the browser, just in case that intense stare can see through the back of my laptop. “Sorry. I’m halfway through these files now. I know you’re trying to work.”
“Great,” he says curtly, his attention returning to his screen. “Thank you.”
I hold tightly to that thank-you, making certain I don’t forget the way it sounds in his low, rumbling voice. Something tells me I’m not going to hear it a lot.
Chapter Three
Case
Normally, I’m not the kind of man who has trouble focusing. Half the reason I’ve been so successful is because when it comes down to it, I buckle down and do what needs to be done.
For the past eight years, I’ve run this business on my own, managing half a dozen hotheaded men, filing paperwork, being every woman’s fantasy in the bedroom, all while putting out client and publicity fires left and right. This business has been my life, my baby, and if there’s one thing I have trouble with, it’s control. Or rather, giving it up.
And Ryder’s goody-two-shoes, whip-smart little sister isn’t making that any easier for me. It’s only Wednesday, and she’s driving me crazy.
“I finished cleaning out your in-box, and I’ve organized it so that all incoming emails will go to their respective files. One for clients, one for press, one for employees, and one for everything else.”
Sienna barely even takes a breath as she explains it all to me, her blue eyes glued to the computer screen as she clicks from file to file.