Boss Me Forever: Older Man/Younger Woman Workplace Romance Read online

  Boss Me Forever

  (Boss Me Book 1)

  By Cameron Hart

  Copyright © 2019 by Cameron Hart

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Chapter 1

  Declan

  “Patrick, why did I get an email from Jung Hashimoto saying he was looking forward to our call, but since we missed it he’s decided to go with another agency?” I snap at my worthless assistant.

  “Umm…” He stutters.

  “Out with it, what did you do this time?”

  “I don’t think it’s my fault that you overslept! The call was this morning!” He all but whines. The nasally tone in his already unpleasant voice is giving me a headache. I can already tell I’ll have a migraine in an hour.

  “The call,” I grit out, “Was supposed to be for three-thirty.”

  “Right. Soooo… I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “Well, Patrick, the problem is that it’s only ten in the morning. So why on god’s green earth am I reading an email that was sent over five hours ago saying I missed an important business call?” I’m trying to rein my temper in. I swear I am.

  “Yeah… Well, if he was expecting you to call at three-thirty this morning, I could see why maybe Mr. Hashimoto went with someone else.” He looks at me with a stupid little smirk hiding behind those beady brown eyes of his.

  “Patrick,” I seethe. “When I asked you to schedule the call for three-thirty today, I didn’t think I had to specify it should be in the afternoon. Why the fuck would I schedule a call at three-thirty in the morning?”

  “You said you were an early riser.” He shrugs. “Plus, you know… Japan time?” He says as if it’s a question.

  That does it.

  “Out!” I bellow.

  Patrick’s weaselly eyes go wide, but he doesn’t move.

  “I said, OUT! Get out of here, you’re fired.”

  “But Mr. Knight, I—"

  “I’ll say it again, since apparently you have trouble understanding even the most basic of instructions. You are no longer employed at White Knight Advertising. As in, you will pack up your desk, collect your severance, and leave the building. I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to hear you, I don’t even want to fucking think about you unless it’s to tell my future assistants of your idiocy. Now, have I made myself clear?”

  I should feel bad about making a grown man cry. But I don’t. Guilt isn’t something I have time to feel.

  I watch with probably a bit too much satisfaction as Patrick stumbles out of my office and grabs up his few personal belongings. On shaky legs, he walks out of the office.

  Just in time for that migraine to hit me in full force.

  I hear a slow clap start in the hallway, the sound making its way closer to me, until it’s in my office. I don’t have to look up from my desk to know it’s my younger brother, Cooper.

  “Wow, how long did that one last? A whole two months? Is that a record or something?”

  “Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” I grumble.

  “Did you have to make him cry though? That seems a bit harsh, even for you,” he grins.

  I don’t dignify him with a response. Cooper, however, doesn’t seem to need one.

  “I mean, poor pot-bellied pat. How was he supposed to know three-thirty a.m. is an unreasonable time to have a conference call? The guy doesn’t have much going for him anyway, and you go and take his job away too? Tsk-tsk, brother.” Cooper shakes his head in mock disappointment.

  “Listen, could you give me a hard time later? I now have to find a new assistant on top of trying to win back the Hashimoto account.”

  Cooper winces at that. “Damn, that was the call you missed?”

  “Yeah,” I grunt.

  “Well, then I guess that’s probably why Asher is calling.”

  I look over at my cell phone perched precariously on the corner of my desk. Sure enough, Ash is calling.

  “You can’t avoid him forever. He flies in tomorrow night.”

  “Fuck,” I say under my breath.

  “Hey, look at it this way. If you talk to him over the phone, at least you’ll be able to hang up on him.” Cooper smirks at me. Most of the time he annoys me with his jokes and laid-back nature, but every once in a while, he pulls a smile out of me just when I need it.

  “Asher,” I say by way of greeting after putting the call on speaker.

  “Declan, what’s this about missing the call with Mr. Hashimoto?” He barks.

  “Have you been hacking into my emails again?”

  “It’s not hacking if I got CC’d on the email,” he grunts. “We really can’t afford to lose out on such a big account. You know the board is looking very closely at the way we handle the business now that dad is gone.”

  I sigh. Like I need the reminder. The board has been breathing down our necks these last six months since our father passed away and handed the company down to his three sons. On the condition that the board approves, of course, and that we increase revenue by twenty percent in the first year. True to form, dad wanted the image of the perfect family dynasty, but didn’t actually have enough confidence in us to pull it off.

  “Look, I’m going to fix it. I already started the process by firing my worthless assistant.”

  “Damnit, Declan. That doesn’t look good, either. How many is that in this past year alone? Five? Six?”

  “Seven,” I grumble.

  “We need to look stable right now, not rash and hot-headed.”

  “Hot-headed? The dumb fuck scheduled the call for three-thirty in the morning!”

  “Well, did you specify you wanted it in the afternoon?”

  Cooper snickers and I shoot him a glare.

  “How the hell is this my fault? If the idiot—”

  “Enough. It’s a poor craftsman that blames his tools.”

  “Yeah, he was a tool alright,” Cooper chimes in.

  I smirk at him, thankful for his light-heartedness in the midst of the tense phone call.

  “Cooper is there too?”

  “Aw, shit,” Cooper mumbles under his breath. My smirk turns into a full on grin knowing I’m not the only one on the receiving end of our oldest brother’s wrath.

  “Listen, you two. I’m out here traveling the country, checking out our other offices and trying to drum up more contacts for us, so I need you both to step up and keep things running smoothly at home base.”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” Cooper says in a mocking voice.

  Asher sighs defeatedly, but I can almost hear him winding up for a fight.

  I interject before this whole conversation goes off the rails. My migraine can’t handle the inevitable shouting match my brothers would wind up in.

  “Asher, I’m going to smooth things over with Mr. Hashimoto after I hire a new assistant. Cooper will continue the good work he’s doing working in research and development, and everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

  “You gotta stick with your next assistant, Declan. I mean it. The most important part of building a solid company is—”

  “Building a solid team,” both Cooper and I finish for him.

  “We know, we know. We grew up with the same father you did, Ash,” Cooper says with as much exasperation as a p
erson could possibly muster.

  “Well then act like it!” Asher snaps.

  I’m about to tell Asher that we’re all three co-CEOs, and therefore he has no right to talk to us that way, when Cooper steps in.

  “Ash, it’s been a pleasure talking with you, as always. Declan and I feel so inspired by our little chat. Best to end on a good note. Have a safe flight, bye!” He hangs up on Asher before the guy can respond.

  “That was fun,” I say sarcastically.

  “Aw, c’mon, it wasn’t so bad. Plus, we got to hang up on him, which is always a treat.”

  I shake my head but can’t hide my grin.

  “You know, as much as it pains me to admit, Ash was right about something,” he says.

  “Oh?”

  “You have to stop firing your assistants every time they breathe too loudly or walk in two minutes late.”

  “Jared didn’t breathe loudly, he fell asleep at his desk and snored! And that woman, Susie? Scarlet? She was an hour late, and it was because her dog sneezed or something.”

  “Her dog ran away,” Cooper corrects.

  “Whatever. Late is late.”

  “You’ve gotta give people a chance, brother. Cut them a little slack.”

  “Yeah, like dad cut us slack?” I snap.

  “Dad was an asshole, yes, but that doesn’t mean we have to follow suit. He might have handed us his company with a ton of strings attached as a final fuck you to all of us, but we have a chance to make our own legacy here. Don’t you want that?”

  “When did you become so wise?” I half joke.

  “I’ve always been the wisest one, Declan. I thought you knew that,” he winks at me.

  “I… don’t think that is true.”

  “Oh sure it is. Asher is the cold, calculated one. You’re the hot-headed hardass. And I’m the self-aware wise one with the boyish good looks and charm for days.”

  I throw a pen at him, but he dashes out of my office and blocks it with the door.

  “Love you, brother!” He yells from the hallway.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mumble to myself.

  I scrub my hands down my face and pull up an email to HR with a request for a new assistant. What a fucking day.

  Chapter 2

  Luna

  “Lucas, are you up yet? I need to leave in thirty minutes if I’m going to drop you off at school and make it to my shift at the diner!”

  I don’t hear anything from my brother’s room, so I knock again.

  “Come on, I can’t be late again. Frannie already hates me and I really need her to schedule me at least sixty hours next week!” After losing my second job as a telemarketer, I really need these hours.

  Still nothing. I open the door in a huff but stop short when I see Lucas. He’s pale and sweaty, and I swear he somehow looks thinner than I remember. He’s always been skinny, but he looks like he’s twelve, not seventeen.

  Just then, he sits up and coughs. It’s deep in his chest and rattles his body so much he has to suck in air.

  “Lucas!” I rush over to him and grab the little waste basket by his bed just in time to catch his vomit. When he’s done, he looks up at me with tears in his eyes.

  “Sorry,” he coughs out.

  “It’s ok, no big deal,” I tell him, hoping to calm him down.

  Inside I’m freaking out. I’m worried about him getting sick again, about missing work, about his schooling. Even though I’m only three years older than him, I became his legal guardian last year when mom died suddenly of an aneurism. I dropped out of college and got the first job I could, waitressing at a diner by Lucas’ high school.

  A few months after mom died, Lucas was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It was a punch in the fucking gut, to say the least. Unsurprisingly, neither the waitressing job nor the telemarketing job came with any sort of health benefits, so I had to dip into the meager life-insurance money we got from mom’s passing. And then I kept dipping into it. Again and again. Turns out having cancer is fucking expensive.

  “I thought the radiation helped,” I say softly, rubbing my brother’s back. He had his last treatment a few months ago.

  “I have good days and bad days,” he shrugs. “I don’t want to go back to the hospital.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “But we have to get ahead of this thing, right? The doctors said if radiation doesn’t work, we have to try out some other treatments.”

  “I’m sick of it! I hate watching everyone else play sports and go to prom and have normal fucking lives! I just want—”

  His rant is cut short by another round of coughing. It breaks my heart, seeing him like this. His whole life has been upended, and try as I might, whatever I do never seems to be enough.

  “Please don’t fight me on this, Lucas,” I beg.

  He glares at me, but then his face softens. “What about work? You said you can’t be late?”

  “Nice try, buddy. You’re not delaying this. Your health is important. I can’t lose you too.”

  Lucas looks stricken at my last statement. I should feel bad playing the guilt card, but I don’t. If it gets him to the hospital, I’ll play that card all day long.

  He sighs and pulls the covers back, standing on shaky legs.

  I clean out the waste basket and call into work. Frannie is even less understanding than I thought she would be. In fact, she fires me. Which is just perfect. On top of figuring out medical bills and worrying about my sick brother, I have to find a new job. ASAP.

  ✽✽✽

  Six hours later, we’re back home. Lucas is resting, while I’m frantically looking through job sites. I can’t go back to service industry jobs with no health insurance. Not after the news we got today. Originally, they thought the tumors were slow-growing, which is why they suggested radiation as a minimally invasive course of action. After a CT scan and an x-ray confirmed new growth in his tumors, one in particular that is close to his lungs, we all decided to move ahead with chemotherapy.

  I expected Lucas to put up a fight, but he just sat silently in the chair next to me, the absolute picture of defeat. He didn’t say anything on the way back to the apartment. He didn’t even look at me.

  At least he’s resting now. The first chemo appointment is next week. He’ll have one every day for five days, and then rest for three weeks. Along with applying for jobs, I’ve also filled out a few applications for financial assistance with the new round of treatments. I cross my fingers and hope for some sort of break. I could really use a win right now.

  I spend the better part of the afternoon skimming over job descriptions and salaries. There’s not much in the way of well-paying jobs with regular hours and benefits for someone with only two years of college. Surprise, surprise.

  One listing in particular catches my eye. For one, it has a crazy high salary, at least for me, and benefits. The best part is, they are looking to fill the position as soon as possible, which hopefully means they are willing to give someone like me a chance. Plus, the office isn’t too incredibly far away, so I can drive. Yeah, my brother and I are native New Yorkers, but our mom was a southerner through and through. She didn’t like depending on taxis to get her where she needed to be. Mom would rather wait in traffic and pay for parking than jump in a car with a stranger, so she said. She made sure Lucas and I knew how to drive too.

  I click into the job posting and see that it requires a four-year degree. My hope deflates a little, but I continue reading through the description. It’s for an executive assistant at some advertising agency. The duties listed don’t seem particularly difficult. Certainly, they don’t require a college education, which is infuriating. I have excellent communication skills. I can manage time with the best of them. Try working two jobs while taking care of a teenager who has cancer! I’ll manage the shit right out of this executive’s time! Proficient in Microsoft Office products? This is 2019, who the hell doesn’t know how to use Word and Excel? As for organizational and prioritization skills, let’s just say m
y extensive book collection is in alphabetical order by last name of author, and my closet is arranged by color. And that’s saying something. I love colorful clothing. And patterns. Why be boring when you can be fabulous?

  I take another look at the requirements and qualifications. There’s no doubt in my mind that I can do this job, even though I’m not technically qualified. But fuck it, I need to step up and do something about my current situation.

  So, I skim over my resumé and make a few… tweaks.

  Write down customer’s orders and take them back to the kitchen? More like, communicated the needs of the consumer to the business. Work twelve-hour shifts around taking my brother to all of his doctor appointments? More like, demonstrated the ability to manage time efficiently under pressure.

  With a few more “adjustments” to my resumé, and one outright lie about graduating a year early with my business degree, I hit “send.”

  Imagine my shock when my phone lights up an hour later with an email from the HR department of White Knight Advertising. I read it three times just to make sure. Yes, it definitely says they want to schedule an interview as soon as possible. It lists three times for me to choose from. I shoot an email right back taking the slot for tomorrow at four.

  My tummy is full of butterflies. Yes, I’m anxious about my slightly less than honest application, but I’m also… hopeful. For the first time in a really, really long time. Maybe this will be the start of a new chapter in our lives.

  I rummage through my closet to find something remotely professional looking, but I come up empty. I don’t own dress slacks and all the skirts I have are either pink, teal, green, or covered in sequins. Yeah, I own clothes with sequins on them, so sue me.

  I make a quick call to Sarah, my old college roommate.

  “Luna!” She says excitedly. “Girl, what is up?”

  Her greeting makes me smile. It’s nice to have someone excited to hear from you.

  “Sarah, have a big job interview tomorrow, and I was wondering…”

  “If you could borrow something that the rainbow didn’t explode all over?”