Crazy for the Boss (Crazy in Love Book 1) (2 page)

J
ames Matthew Thornhill II
sat through the next hour of the meeting as the attorneys on both sides hammered out the settlement details. He took a moment to stare at the young brunette hiding behind glasses that were far too big for her face.

Quinn Taylor.

She had impressed him. Even before he’d stepped into the room today, he’d already been familiar with her work having seen her name on a couple of the legal briefs. Then there was her performance—that’s all he could liken it to—during the depositions of several of his company’s key managers, in which she’d skewered them with her astute and calculated questions. He’d nearly highlighted a few of her wittier one-liners when he’d read the deposition transcripts over the weekend.

Had he known the small mouse of a woman who’d leveled a glare at him and Candace this morning was one and the same as Quinn Taylor, the labor and employment attorney killing them in this lawsuit, he might have handled things differently. Or maybe not, as he thought about the look of annoyance she’d leveled on him when he’d held the door for Candace. She’d clearly wanted to say something but had tightened her grip on her coffee instead.

When she’d whispered into the other attorney’s ear, who might have his name on the letterhead but clearly didn’t know beans about this lawsuit, James could have sworn he’d seen her mouth the words Blossom Brew. Not that it was a major secret that he was determined that his first coup as the new CEO would be to add that franchise to the company’s growing portfolio of restaurants it managed across the Western United States. But you really had to follow business news to know that one, which Quinn Taylor clearly had. She was a worthy opponent.

Even now she was leaning over Dennis’s shoulder, despite the unhappy glare the general counsel was giving her as they argued over some detail while her co-counsel was on the phone with their clients.

“This is not negotiable,” Quinn insisted and stood up to her full height that was maybe five six at the most. “Annual training for your employees and managers on issues such as disability harassment and reasonable accommodation.”

“Fine,” James interjected, earning both of their frustrated looks.

Dennis was just going to have to deal with it. Just as he was going to have to deal with the fact he no longer answered to Neil, James’s arrogant, hot-tempered cousin. Over the past decade, the former CEO had led the company down its current path that had eroded their employees’ trust and goodwill. The bottom line was always money with him, and he couldn’t see past giving a little now for rewards in the future.

Something that James was going to do his best to reverse. And in the process, hopefully earn a little respect from his grandfather. Cyrus Thornhill was a man of vision and morals and who never seemed to think that James was reaching his potential…and yet—for whatever reason—had suggested his name to the board for consideration as CEO despite a few other members’ reservations. Members who were clearly still team Neil but could see that the writing was on the wall.

James was well aware that if he screwed this up, even the old man couldn’t save him, and the board could just as likely kick him to the curb as they had Neil if he didn’t get the job done.

Something James would never let happen.

However, to pull this company from the Middle Ages, to make the changes that needed to be made, he needed someone he could trust. A person who might share the same values and vision he had. Someone of strong resolve who wouldn’t back down from a fight. Someone…not Dennis.

“You’re also going to need to overhaul your entire employee handbook,” the brunette continued, tucking away a wisp of her dark hair that had loosened from her rather severe hairstyle.

The idea was forming as he watched her and Dennis battle again.

Yes. Quinn Taylor was exactly the kind of person he needed on his team.

James waited until the meeting ended and his attorneys and Rooney headed out with the draft of the settlement before he spoke to her.

“Ms. Taylor. Could I have a minute of your time?” he asked and shut the door as she was gathering her things.

Immediately, her shoulders tensed as her guard went up. James could see her trying to come up with an excuse. “I don’t think it’s appropriate that we’re in communication outside the presence of your attorney. If you have questions for me, you should direct those through him.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary. What I want to speak to you about has nothing to do with the case. Rather…I wanted to discuss a possible offer of employment.”

Her brows furrowed as she pushed her glasses farther up on her nose. “For whom?”

“Why don’t you take a seat? This won’t take long.”

“I prefer to stand.”

Yep. Hardheaded. “I wanted to offer you a job. Working with me. With Thornhill Management.”

Whereas before she’d been carefully returning everything in an organized manner back into her bag, she now tossed it all in and slung it over her shoulder before making her way to the door. “I have a job, thank you very much.”

But James wasn’t backing down. He opened the door, letting her pass before walking alongside her. “Yes, and you appear to be doing a spectacular job. You definitely speak and write with passion, and it’s exactly that kind of passion that I want to bring on board to the company.”

She reached the elevator and pushed the button. “Sorry. Like I said, I have a job, one that I enjoy immensely. I’m sure you could find someone equally competent if you give it some time. Someone without a conflict of interest as I would have.”

“Only there is no conflict of interest. Not anymore. The case is settled; it’s just a matter of getting the judge to sign off. And I don’t want anyone else. I want you. You’ve said it yourself, the company is in dire need of training, of updates to our company policy and employee handbooks. We have well over five thousand employees who could benefit from having someone who would understand the legal nuances of things like disability accommodation, sexual harassment, age discrimination.” He paused, as if waiting to throw the best in for last. “I’d start you off at two hundred grand a year, plus there’s a nice holiday bonus, profit-sharing opportunities after your first year, a generous healthcare package, and several more perks we could discuss if you’re interested.”

Her lips—fuller and poutier than he’d previously appreciated—parted, and her eyes widened, as if she was processing what he’d said. Having seen her financial straits this morning at the coffee cart, he’d been pretty certain that this sum would be something she couldn’t just reject outright.

The elevator opened and they stepped into the already crowded car. But he didn’t budge from her side. “You would join our legal department, but you would be in charge of matters related to legal investigations, harassment complaints, accommodations requests. And I can’t think of anyone better to make sure we’re in compliance with today’s agreement than you. You would be able to make a direct impact on the lives of all those employees you’re so keen to protect.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” she said.

“Why not?”

She met his eyes, her own dark ones looking at him still in suspicion from behind her owl-like glasses. “Because I don’t work for the devil, for one. And because I enjoy my current job, for another. I already make a difference.”

He stifled a laugh at her frankness. The devil, huh? That was something he was going to have to improve upon. “Ah, but do you? Make a difference, I mean. Sure, you might swoop in
after
a person has been fired or demoted, maybe earn them a little something for their trouble. But how is that really helping them? I’m giving you an opportunity to help John or Jane Doe
before
they’re fired, before they’re turned away from a job they need to put food on the table. Not sitting behind some desk trying to put a Band-Aid over a five-inch gash.”

“I hardly think a third-of-a-million-dollar settlement constitutes a Band-Aid.”

“But what if those people had managers who’d been properly trained, who had someone to call before they lost everything?”

The door to the first floor opened and she paused to let a few people out before following.

“Look. Why don’t you take a day or two to consider my offer?”

He took a card out of his breast pocket and handed it to her. Before she could throw it in his face, James stepped back into the elevator, enjoying the moment as she stared at the card in her hand like it was made from human skin just as the doors shut.

He’d take that as a victory. For now.

Because now that he’d decided that he needed Quinn Taylor on his team, he wouldn’t accept anything else.

“
Y
ou can’t possibly be thinking
about saying no, Quinn,” Tessa said and refilled their three wineglasses with the rest of the Pinot Noir before picking up her own glass and taking a drink. It was later that night, and Quinn was sitting with her two roommates—and best friends—debating her options. Tess shook her head, sending her bouncy brown curls bobbing around her shoulders. “Two hundred grand a year? I can’t imagine what I’d do with all of— Scratch that. I can think of a dozen different things I could do with all of that money.”

“And the guy does make a point,” Anna chimed in. “As the head of this employment subdivision, you could stop any discrimination before it gets too far. You could make sure that pregnant and disabled employees get the accommodations they need, that the female employees have a safe place to work, that qualified and experienced employees don’t get pushed out just because they’re older. Did you know that Thornhill Management is one of the largest private employers in the state?”

Anna was a feature writer and aspiring political writer for the
Daily Rundown
, a growing popular online news magazine based out of the Bay Area, and she seemed to know everything about everybody—including James Thornhill and his recent coup as CEO.

Anna took a drink of her wine and scrolled through the pages of stories that a quick Google search had found on the company. “So to get this straight, Cyrus is the grandfather who started the company almost fifty years ago when he purchased a small mom-and-pop hamburger joint based out of Sausalito and eventually grew it into a massive chain of restaurants along the West Coast, picking up a few other restaurant franchises along the way.” This Quinn already knew, having educated herself about the company back when she was first assigned, but she let Anna continue. “They now have a total of four different restaurant chains they operate and three hundred different restaurants, and the rumor is they’re aiming to pick up Blossom Brew.”

“I love their coffee,” Tessa said. “I wonder if there’ll be one around here. But who is this James and why is he now the CEO?”

“Cyrus stepped down as the CEO almost ten years ago,” Quinn interjected, “but he’s still a major player at the company as the acting chairman of the company’s board of directors. James is his grandson. Can we say nepotism?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

Anna turned the laptop around, and on the screen was a picture of James Thornhill frolicking in the surf with three buxom beach bunnies.

“Oh my God. That’s him?” Tessa asked, lunging forward, her eyes wide as she stared ravenously at the muscular figure. “This is the guy who wants to hire you?”

Not that Quinn could quite blame her. With rock-solid abs that would make anyone want to run their hands over them and thick gorgeous golden-brown hair that probably never saw a bad day, James Thornhill was fairly impressive. From a purely physical standpoint.

As to his moral integrity and values, that was another story entirely. She would know, considering, as soon as the conference room cleared back at the her firm and she was in front of a computer, she’d looked him up. He certainly liked to have a good time, if the lurid stories and descriptions were any indication. However, despite that, he’d somehow managed to turn a small start-up capital venture firm into a multimillion-dollar success.

But then again, he
knew
people, people with money, so how hard could it have been?

Quinn took a big drink of wine, shaking her head. “I didn’t work my butt off at Berkeley Law to get into bed with the very wolves I’ve vowed to fight against,” Quinn said, trying to hold steadfast to her crumbling resolve.

“You don’t think you’re being a touch melodramatic?” Anna asked, pulling her long, wavy blonde hair up and wrapping a hairband from her wrist around the thick, enviable tresses before she pulled the laptop back.

“Hey, do either of you want the last slice of pizza?” Tessa asked, and when they shook their heads, she bit into the cheesy piece.

As she had so many times before, Quinn thanked the skyrocket-high San Francisco housing market for forcing her to find such incredible friends and roommates. She and Anna had met as undergrads when Anna had placed an ad for a roommate to cut down on the high cost of moving out of student housing. Three years later, when Anna was accepted into the graduate program, earning her Masters in Journalism, and Quinn had started law school, they’d added Tessa—who Quinn had met her first day of torts—to their little group.

Since Quinn and Tessa had graduated from law school two years ago, the cost of living hadn’t improved, and with student loan debt hanging over their heads, the women decided to continue to live together. They’d pooled their limited resources from working entry-level positions in their respective fields to move to a three-bedroom, three-bathroom duplex a short walk from Alamo Square Park in the northwestern area of the city.

The place was perfect. It had been recently restored, which gave them higher-end appliances, but it still retained its century-old identity and charm with the old wooden floors and a few distinctive architectural pieces. More importantly, since they were still only a couple of years out of school, by splitting the rent three ways, they were able to stay well within their budgets. Especially since, as an online journalist, an associate labor and employment attorney, and a newbie real estate attorney, they didn’t exactly rake in the big money.

Tessa finished chewing her pizza and eyed Quinn with a smile. “Okay, now that you’ve given us all the reasons you can’t work there, I think it’s time for you to own up and admit how intriguing this offer actually is.”

Quinn took a more measured drink of wine, savoring the fruity flavor of the Pinot grapes. Something that, up until she’d met Tessa, she hadn’t given a second thought. But Tessa had grown up with a family of wine lovers thanks to the family-owned winery located farther north in the Sonoma Valley, and she had taught Anna and Quinn how to appreciate a wine’s natural bouquet. “I’ll admit that the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of all those employees does have some appeal. Not the least is training some of those knuckleheads to know that it isn’t going to substantially burden anyone if a pregnant woman needs to have a stool at the register,” Quinn added, remembering one of the many complaints that had been leveled against the company.

“Hear, hear,” Anna said and took a drink. “You can fire all of their male chauvinist asses.”

Tessa and Quinn caught each other’s gazes and bit their lips to stop their laughter. Ever since Anna had been left devastated and brokenhearted a few years ago by a guy who’d been deranged enough not to appreciate how awesome she was, she’d been a little on edge when it came to the opposite sex.

Quinn glanced down at the scribbles she’d written that estimated how long, with the amount of money James was offering, it would take her to pay off the medical bills—one of which was already past due—and make a dent in her student loans.

It had always been disheartening that, for more than a year, she’d been forking out close to half of her salary on those bills and didn’t even have at least a nice car or a dream vacation to remember fondly. Instead, it went to cover medical debt she and her sister had taken over when their mom got sick, not to mention some crippling medical debt of her own when Quinn had found herself struggling in the same murky deep waters.

Depression could kiss her ass.

Quinn studied the figure. Six months. At that salary, in six months she’d have the medical bills paid in full and almost twenty percent of her student loan paid off. In a year…even better. If she could hold out that long.

“I suppose, even if I don’t like it, I can tough it out a year, bank the money, and with the experience under my belt, I could find a job at any number of larger employment law firms,” Quinn said in a thoughtful tone. “Or, worst case, even go back to work at Meiers and Rooney.”

“Exactly,” Tessa said, Miss Glass Half-Full, her exuberance contagious. “I don’t see that you really have that much to lose. You’ve said yourself that you only saw yourself at that law firm a couple of years as you gained experience. This opportunity looks almost too good to be true.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Quinn said, nodding slowly in agreement. “I suppose that since he’s wooing me to come to the company, maybe I could make a couple of demands of my own…” She bit her lip, thinking of one such demand immediately.

“I say go for it. Then you can treat us all to a fancy dinner with your first check.” Anna hopped to her feet. “I’m going to go for a run. Anyone care to join me?”

The other two women didn’t respond, nor did they have to based on the looks of derision on their faces. Exercise at nine o’clock at night? With bellies full of wine and pizza? Fat chance.

Tessa waited until Anna had slipped on her running shoes and bounded outside to turn her green eyes to Quinn. “Okay, so we’ve seen the photos and know he’s a fine specimen. But what is he like in person?”

Quinn leaned back on the couch and undid her hair before pulling it back into a simple ponytail. “Overbearing. Entitled. And thinks he knows more than he does. For all I know, he might be just as bad as his cousin. People like that assume everyone’s had the same opportunities as they have and don’t understand the day-to-day struggles of everyday people.”

“But that’s why you’ll be there. Helping people who struggled just like your mom…” Tessa hesitated. “But whatever happens, you have to remember to talk to us.”

Quinn stared at her friend, her gratefulness choking her up. “I promise.”

After what had happened to Quinn’s mom, and the responsibility she and her sister had taken on themselves to stop her parents from going into bankruptcy to pay the exorbitant medical bills, Quinn had found herself spiraling into previously undiagnosed depression and anxiety. Depression that had made her feel alone and hopeless and left with an overwhelming sense of defeat. But with her friends’ intervention, not to mention the help of a qualified therapist and medication, she’d come a long way.

“In that case, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t pick up that phone right now and accept that offer before he changes his mind.”

“The guy probably already forgot who I was,” Quinn said, half joking. But Tessa made a good point. What if he assumed from their conversation she wasn’t interested before she’d even had a chance to see if he’d accept her counter offer?

Begrudgingly, she uncrossed her legs and came to her feet. “Fine. I suppose it doesn’t hurt to give him a call before he forgets our entire conversation.”

With her glass of wine in one hand and her cell phone in the other, Quinn headed to her room. Shutting the door, she climbed onto her bed and sat there for a minute staring at his card.

James Thornhill II. Seriously? Could he be more pompous?

Heaving a sigh, she pushed the numbers in and waited for the dial tone.

He answered almost immediately. “James Thornhill.”

She rolled her eyes. Really? Who answered like that? “Yes, Mr. Thornhill. It’s Quinn Taylor. I was calling to talk to you about your job offer.”

“Ah, Ms. Taylor. Glad to hear you’ve been giving my offer some consideration.” There was definitely an edge of humor in his voice. “Did you call to see what the profit-sharing plan entailed?”

“That’s not what I’m interested in hearing about right now, no. I actually have a counter offer for you.”

“Of course you do.”

“I understand that, technically, the settlement terms have already been agreed to, and as Dennis Monson and your cousin were adamant that Lauralee Bishop would not be rehired, this item wasn’t discussed today. However, Lauralee was a loyal and dedicated manager for six years, with only glowing reports and positive annual evaluations up until the time she was fired.”

“I remember her. She was fired for absenteeism. She’d missed seventy-five percent of her shifts in the last month of her employment if I recall correctly.”

Quinn’s grip on the phone tightened. She was still angry as she remembered Dennis’s smug recital of the same information. “Yes, that’s never been denied. However, if you’ve read our briefs and the medical documentation, you also probably now know that two months before that, Lauralee’s ex-husband sexually assaulted her and then beat the crap out of her so badly that she had to be hospitalized. Yes,” she added before he might make Dennis’s same old argument, “at the time she returned to work at the restaurant, she’d been physically cleared for work. But unbeknownst to her, Lauralee was suffering from PTSD, something that, had she been properly diagnosed and treated for, would have entitled her to some accommodations to her schedule, and her job would have been protected.”

Facts that had drawn Quinn to the case in the first place, based on her own familiarity with mental health and accommodations in the workplace.

“I agree with you,” James said. “Which is part of why I authorized the settlement today.”

Now or never. “Then I’d like you to give her a second chance.”

Silence.

“You’re asking me to give Lauralee her job back?”

“I am.”

There was a long pause. “I think I could probably swing that. I can call HR tomorrow and have them get started on the paperwork. Along with your own employment contract?” he added, his tone hopeful.

“There’s one more thing. I’d like the company to offer an employee-assistance plan to all employees. It’s an insurance program of sorts, a short-term counseling service for your employees who might be struggling with dependency and mental health issues. It’s a simple plan that, had it been available to managers like Lauralee, would have helped her in finding the right medical provider and obtaining the right diagnosis and counseling that might have prevented the excessive absenteeism that led to her termination.”

“That’s a tall order. But…I think we could probably make it work.”

Wow. That was easy. Too easy. “What kind of assurance do I have that you’ll honor this agreement?” she asked skeptically.

He chuckled. “You’ll just have to take me at my word. However, although I’m open to offering this employee reemployment—that is, if she’s still interested—if for some reason she isn’t able to perform her duties, the company still reserves the right, after your counsel, of course, to terminate her employment. Will that be acceptable?”