Tied Up by the Boss (Office Kink #2)(3)

Chapter Two





Parker





I. Am. Fucked.

One moment I was riding high, CyGen hanging on my every word, the next Chris and his team had nearly trampled us as they took off like a raging stampede.

Soon followed by Morgan. I’d never seen him so angry. He wouldn’t even glance in my direction when he returned from running after Chris.

I knew I pushed. It’s always been my strategy to show potential clients I’m not afraid. I go in with the highest degree of confidence, and I refuse to be bullied or bulldozed by anyone. But when Chris balked at the last questions of my pitch, I snapped. I suddenly remembered what my ex told me about Chris’s corrupt business ethics, not to mention how he came onto him, then blackmailed him into keeping quiet about it. I attacked, symbolically swinging.

Chris obviously didn’t appreciate it. He may have hedged during the pitch, but he sure didn’t hesitate after that to call me every name in the book. Twice. How could I blame him? I went for the jugular. He reacted. And honestly, what did I expect to get from it? Vindication? Or did I really believe he’d stop and say, “You know, you’re right, Parker. Now let’s do business.”

I messed up. I may be arrogant and cocky, but I’m not stupid. Or so I thought.

And I’m so fired.

I’d been on Morgan’s shit list from day one, when I first heard his pretentious English accent ripping me a new one for rolling my eyes. He was just waiting for a royal fuck-up like this to finally get rid of me.

Hell. I couldn’t lose this job. NetSmash was a great firm and would be able to take me places. I’d only been here a year, and I wanted at least three in order to get promoted to VP one day.

What could I possibly do to convince Morgan not to fire me?

My mind went in a devious direction, but no, I didn’t want to fuck my way to the top. Nor did I want to fuck my way out of getting canned. Some may call me an asshole, but I have standards and a healthy work ethic. Not that Morgan was horrible to look at with those searing hazel eyes and salt-and-pepper hair that screamed DILF. It was the condescending and smug expression on his face that made me want to sock him. Every goddamn day.

I looked at the clock on the computer. I had to do something quick before Morgan called me up. Time was ticking.

I threw on my suit jacket and tossed a mint in my mouth, then primped my hair in the mirror near my bookcase.

Upon opening the door, some rando seated nearby waved. Oookay. I waved back and headed to the elevators to take me up to the penthouse floor.

Karla sat at her desk in front of Morgan’s office. “Is he available?”

“Oh, Parker,” she said as her eyes widened. “Hold on, let me check.”

She picked up the phone. “Mr. Brant, you have Mr. Greenhill here to see you.”

I heard his voice but couldn’t make out his words.

“No,” she answered. I wondered if he asked if I was carrying any weapons. They probably thought I was ready to rampage. I raised my hands, palms out, to show her they were empty. She glanced up at me and smiled nervously.

His muffled voice replied.

“Yes, sir.” She hung up. “Go ahead.”

I straightened my tie and opened the door.

Oranges and reds filled the room as the sun was setting over the bay through his massive windows. I forgot how amazing the view from the executive offices was, and it strengthened my resolve.

Morgan sat at his desk facing his computer. He turned toward me as I walked in, clasping his hands in front of him.

I hadn’t practiced what I wanted to say. I figured I’d lose my nerve if I thought about it for too long. But now, as he steadied those hazel eyes directly at me, I froze.

I had nothing.

Mind completely blank.

The silence seemed to go on forever as I stood there without any clue of what to do.

He quirked a brow and finally spoke. “What, Parker? The cat finally got your tongue?” He shook his head. “Where was that miserable pussy during our meeting this morning!?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Don’t fire me, Morgan.”

He pushed himself up to stand, his six-foot-two frame heaving with angry breaths. “Give me one good reason why what you did today was in any way acceptable. Why should I even allow you here in my office?”

I swallowed, gathering my thoughts. “Because it was a mistake. And I’m sorry. I made a bad decision and let my emotions get the better of me. I won’t let it happen again.”

Morgan crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I’m finding that hard to believe. This type of behavior doesn’t seem like much of a stretch for you. Of course, in this particular instance, you blew any preconceived notions I had about you completely out of the water. I don’t see you changing how you conduct yourself due to one catastrophe. It’s too deeply ingrained. In other words, it’s just you. And I don’t like . . . you.” He said it without blinking, the amber flecks in his eyes like slivers of pure fire.

I put my shoulders back to compensate for the metaphorical gut punch. Morgan had always been honest with me, even if his opinions could be considered abrasive. And inexplicably, that one hurt more than I anticipated.

“I’ve done a lot of good things for NetSmash,” I began. “Look at my past accomplishments in just a year’s time??—AltMecca, ProseBank, and CrystalEdge. I worked really hard to get those clients, and they love us.”