Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales #1)(6)

And he was. Handsome. From every angle.

Not just his feet.

He always had a slight five o’clock shadow going on, but she’d never seen his hair when it wasn’t picture perfect. The man easily could have been a GQ model, but instead he was the CEO of his family’s pharmaceutical company. He was well over six feet tall, weighed a little under two hundred pounds, was thirty-three years old, had attended Harvard for six years, and wore a size thirteen shoe.

I know way too much about him. Stalker.

She sighed.

Oh, and he was freakishly, devilishly, impossibly hot.

And single.

A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he remained otherwise motionless. “This isn’t a ‘dalliance’, Mother,” he said.

“It’s not.” Maggie tore her eyes off of him, flushing when his mother shot her a condescending look. “It’s so not.”

He shot her a narrow-eyed look.

She stared right back at him, and took a big gulp of wine.

The second he turned away, she put down her glass, swiped a napkin across her mouth, gently set her fork down, and decided to creep out while no one paid attention to her. If she had any luck—which she normally didn’t—she’d escape before whatever was about to happen here happened. World War Three, maybe.

Slowly, she stepped sideways to the left.

Mrs. Gale snapped her fingers. “Sit down. No one excused you.”

Before the sentence was even finished, Maggie slammed her butt into the soft leather chair. Mr. Gale was her boss, which made his mother her even bigger boss, so she didn’t exactly have a choice. “This really isn’t what it looks like, Mrs. Gale. I—”

“Don’t bother, Maggie.” He frowned. “She won’t believe you.”

Mrs. Gale shrugged. “You’re right. I won’t.”

He rubbed his jaw. “You can’t come in here and order my employees around. If Maggie wants to leave, she’s allowed. She’s not a prisoner in my office.”

She stood again. “Great. Thank you. I’ll be on my—”

“Your employee?” The other woman laughed, but it didn’t sound like humor at all. “Oh, that’s just rich. You have one of your workers under your table doing…doing…”

Shoot me. Shoot me now.

“As we already told you,” he said, his tone tight with exasperation. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Oh, but it was. And there are rules against such things.” Mrs. Gale focused her cold gaze on Maggie. “Get out. You’re fired.”

She exhaled a big breath of air, dread punching her in the stomach. She’d been in the city for half a year, fighting her way into this hard-to-attain position at Gale Incorporated, and now she’d been sacked over suspicion of going down on her hot boss—and she hadn’t even done it. Great. Just great.

She had to get out of here, with her head held high, and then she’d cry. But not in front of this horrible woman. She nodded. “Right.”

“Don’t even think about walking out of here.” His icy look froze her to the spot. “Sit down.”

She sat again, feeling a bit like a marionette on strings, and wishing she were anywhere but here with these two people. A funeral. Even the dentist.

Or the gynecologist, with her feet in stirrups, and an apologetic doctor holding a speculum between her thighs going, “Sorry, but this will be cold and uncomfortable.”

Literally. Anywhere else.

Mrs. Gale sniffed, crinkled her nose as if she smelled something foul, and crossed her arms. “How dare you bring one of your paramours into the company as an employee. What would your father say?”

She stiffened, every nerve within her screaming for her to tell this pompous woman exactly where she could stick her old-fashioned attitude. She stood again, nails digging into her palms. “You know what? You can take your—”

“Father would say nothing.” He smoothly stepped in front of her and cut her off, all without even glancing her way. “We were working and had a dinner break together. We were both fully clothed, and she just happened to be under the table. That’s it.”

Mrs. Gale cast a glance at the table in question. “Oh, dear me. I didn’t realize that wine at a business meal was now standard. Shall we serve that all day long at the break station, instead of coffee and tea? Perhaps throw in a few hard spirits, as well, to liven up the day? Some leftover medication that didn’t pass FDA approval?”

Maggie’s nails dug even deeper into her palms, but she miraculously managed to keep her mouth shut. She had a suspicion that this had nothing to do with her at all, and everything to do with them. Mrs. Gale was a force to be reckoned with. Word on the street was that she never stopped pushing till she got her way, no matter what stood in her path. Apparently, that ruthlessness extended to her son, so Maggie speaking up in his defense wouldn’t do anything to help diffuse the situation.

If anything, it would only rile the monster even more.

Mr. Gale crossed his arms, not even close to losing his cool over his mother’s…well, coolness. If anything, he looked mildly amused. The man was like a machine, all cold, hard logic and no irrational emotion at all. “That’s not the same thing. It’s after seven, and we’re both finishing up a twelve-hour day on a Friday. Since my original dinner meeting was canceled, I invited Maggie to join me before I go home—alone, I might add. Not that it’s any of your business.”