Authors: Elena Black
He’d heard her voice – her gentle, lilting voice – say that at least six times since yesterday
. Every time Laney was in his presence, it seemed she caused some sort of disaster – stacks of papers decorating the floors, sudden hot liquid spills, accidently mowing clients and staff down in the hallway. It was baffling to Michael how one woman could cause so much chaos, yet still deliver such high quality work. There had been a piping hot cup of perfect coffee on his desk when he got there that morning – and he got there earlier than everyone else; everyone but Laney, who was making it her job to exceed his expectations in the personal assistant field. When he asked for a file, she produced it, as if she had magically known he would be requesting it. She had already informed him she wouldn’t mind staying late, should the need ever arise. And obviously she had no problem coming in early.
If only she could stop injuring people in the halls…
“Michael. We need to talk.”
Great. Price. Just what the day needed.
Warren Price was driven, which Michael had always admired about him, but he was also ruthless, more so than most situations necessarily demanded. He and Jonah Waters had founded this firm twenty years ago, along with their elder partner, Phil Hayes. Phil had learned the hard way exactly how ruthless his junior partners could be when they’d forced him out of the firm the year Michael had started working there. It was something Michael had never forgotten and he made sure to guard his back around them.
“What can I do for you, Warren?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, arms outstretched, posture casual. It was important to project effortless power in this business, particularly around snakes like Price.
“When is the agency sending a new temp over?” Price asked, taking a seat in one of the plush gray chairs Beverly had ordered for the office. He was a good twenty years Michael’s senior, but he took very good care of himself and would probably have been able to pass for forty if it weren’t for his rapidly receding hairline.
“A new temp?” Michael asked carefully.
“To replace the one out there,” Price continued. “The one wreaking havoc on the office?”
“She’s not that bad,” Michael argued lightly.
“Not that…” Price shook himself. “Are you kidding? What do the kids say – am I being punk’d?”
“No, Warren, you’re not being punk’d,” Michael assured him. “I realize Laney is a little clumsy--”
“Fitzsimmons had to go to the emergency room,” Price said flatly. “Apparently your girl tripped him as everyone was heading out for lunch.”
“That was my fault,” Michael said. “I distracted her.”
“From walking in a straight line?” Price pressed. “No, you just can’t be serious. Have them send another girl over, one that can walk and chew gum at the same time.”
“She’s doing well,” Michael said firmly. “This is only her second day and she’s already impressed me.”
“Are you sure it’s her… performance… you’re so impressed by?” Price asked, an insinuating eyebrow arched skyward.
“It’s her coffee, actually,” Michael said easily. Denying his attraction to Laney outright would be a mistake. Price was a gifted attorney; he had a sixth sense about when people were lying to him. Plus, Michael had nothing to be ashamed of. He hadn’t acted on his attraction – yet – and therefore Price had no reason to infer anything untoward.
“No one’s coffee is that good,” Price insisted. “I’ve only seen the girl twice and both times she was a mess.”
Before Michael could respond there was another knock on his door. Jonah Waters poked his slick black head in. “Has he agreed?” he asked Price.
“He is being obnoxiously, remarkably thick headed about it,” Price said with a sigh.
“Look,” Michael said, holding his hands out in a placating manner, “Just give her the rest of the week. If she can clean up her act, she stays. If not,
I’ll call the agency for a replacement.”
Michael had absolutely no intention of calling the agency for
a replacement. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t have to find a way around it. Laney was competent, more so than she gave herself credit for. He would just have to figure out a way to neutralize her nervousness around him so she could stop being a threat to herself and those around her.
“The rest of the week,” Price agreed, holding out his hand for a shake. Michael grasped his partner’s hand firmly.
“You won’t regret it,” he assured both Price and Waters. “You’ll wonder how you ever doubted her.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Waters muttered. “We’ve got a conference call at 4. I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”
“What else is new,” Price muttered as he followed Waters out. Michael grinned. They were total bastards, but they certainly kept things interesting. Price, almost skeletally thin, was a lifelong vegan who detested exercise. Waters had never met a cut of meat he didn’t devour and was a gym rat with a stocky build that was not as exclusively made of muscle as he liked people to believe.
Michael ran a hand through his hair wondering how he would start the conversation he needed to have with Laney. The
last thing he wanted to do was make the situation worse and he was afraid letting her know the partners had her on probation would only succeed at making her more nervous. And he wasn’t certain the staff could handle it if she got any clumsier.
No, Michael needed to put her at ease, or at the very least refocus her attention so she wasn’t so nervous around him. His grin turned rakish. He had just the idea.
##
“I’m so sorry,” Laney muttered, clutching the file she’d just retrieved from the basement even tighter to her chest. The
last thing she needed to do was send another batch of papers fluttering to the floor, totally out of order. It had taken her almost an hour to put the last file back together again and this one was twice as thick.
"Laney."
Her spine straightened and her nipples hardened. She covered them with the folder and spun to face her boss.
"Could you please come to my office when you're finished with whatever you're doing?" he asked politely.
Michael was always polite. It would have been easy to think of him as a gentleman, but Laney had heard the gossip around the office and she had seen the looks Michael gave her when he didn't think she could see him. Honestly, it was a wonder she hadn't set fire to the kitchenette with the way those overtly sexual pheromones he gave off made her nerves feel raw and exposed.
"Of course," she muttered, spinning around again to continue down to the file room. Naturally, she didn't watch where she was going and plowed right into the old bat from accounting who had given her the stink eye at least three times today.
The papers fluttered to the ground, their gentle descent mocking Laney as she muttered an apology and sank to her knees. She could still feel Michael's gaze on her and she flushed. He was probably calling her into his office to fire her. She wouldn't blame him for it, either. He'd bore witness to every single one of her clumsy little mistakes because he'd been the cause of them all. Some women got pregnancy brain; Laney suffered from sexual tension brain. As long as the object of her lust was removed from the equation, she was an intelligent, somewhat graceful woman who was entirely capable around the office.
Add a dash of Michael to the recipe, however, and she was specializing in pratfalls.
"Pay attention," the old bat hissed as she stomped around Laney, mangling one of the rogue papers beneath her short gray heel.
Sighing, Laney added it to the pile, already figuring a how she could repair the damage with some tricky copy machine work. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Michael had gone back into his office. Obviously that was why her brain had started functioning again.
"I'm in so much trouble," she muttered, gathering the last of the pages up and messily stuffing them back into their folder.
The copy room was blissfully empty and Laney took the opportunity to fix the contents of the file, as well as run a backup in case some other catastrophe befell her before she could re-arrange the documents as Michael had requested. She stopped into the kitchen and brewed Michael's third cup of coffee for the day. At least, if she was going down, she'd go down fighting. His euphoric response to the coffee stash she'd brought from home had not gone unnoticed; nothing Michael did went unnoticed by Laney.
Which is exactly why you're in so much trouble.
"Stupid inner voice," she muttered, adding a few Oreos on the saucer next to the coffee. She paused for a moment to check her hair in the small mirror above the sink, then frowned at herself.
"Stop being a coward," she instructed her mirror image, then nodded to herself.
Whatever Michael had to say, she would face it head on.
After successfully navigating the path from the kitchenette to the main offices without spilling a drop of coffee or a crumb of cookie, Laney rapped on Michael's door. This of course proved the theory she'd been operating under right: her clumsy streak was all Michael's fault.
He sat behind his big oak desk, looking much the way he had when she first met with him the day before. His suit was charcoal today, his dark hair falling over his forehead in a messy rush that made her long to run her fingers through it, or perhaps use it as an anchor during other, even more pleasurable activities.
"Afternoon snack," she announced brightly, depositing the coffee and cookies on his desk in front of him. For a torturous, horrifying second she worried it would spill, but he reached a quick hand out to steady the cup in its saucer.
"Thank you," he said sincerely, inhaling the aroma of Colombian perfection with an appreciative little moan that went straight to the area just below her abdomen. Her thighs clenched together and she watched him pop a cookie in his mouth. "
I didn't know we had these," he commented as he swallowed.
"I might have snuck them in, too," she confessed. "A little Oreo can perk up your whole day."
"I can think of a few other things that can perk a day up just as well," he said, sparing her a sexy little grin.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said, flushing a bit under his frank appraisal.
Pushing away from the desk slightly Michael sighed, some of the playfulness leaving his face. "I think you know why you're here."
"Please don't fire me," she begged. "I need this job, and I don't want to leave…"
You
. It was a sobering realization, but much more than she didn't want to find a new position, Laney really didn't want to find a new boss.
"Don't worry," he said, holding up a hand in supplication. "You're not being fired."
Yet
, his tone seemed to imply. "It's more of a friendly warning. My partners aren't as… interested in giving you a chance for this position."
"I know I've been clumsy," she admitted. "I swear it's not normally this bad. I mean, I'm not a prima ballerina or anything, but…"
"Trust me, it's more about bad luck than anything," he said soothingly. "He didn't say so directly, but I believe Price's secretary was one of the unfortunate victims of your hallway derby."
Now she really did flush for an entirely non-sexual reason. "I will spend every spare second I have avoiding calamity," she promised.
"Do that," he agreed, taking a sip of his coffee. Another of those sexy little moans slipped out of his mouth. "Just make sure your coffee making skills don't suffer."
"I won't," she laughed. "Is that all?"
"For now," he allowed. "But Laney? Don't make me call you back in here. If you keep making mistakes, I might have to… punish you."
Damn nipples.
They had minds of their own. Laney was glad they weren't noticeable with her suit jacket. Michael's tone was teasing, but there was something behind his eyes, something in the way he couldn't stop himself from looking at her in that strangely possessive way that made her long to test him, to challenge him, to outright
beg
him to make good on that that teasing threat.
"I'll try to be good," she promised, but as she slipped back out of his office, she realized she had unconsciously crossed her fingers.
##
3.
Michael found himself in the unique position of feeling pride at Laney's ability to stay focused and disappointed that she had stopped giving him cause to threaten punishing her, even if he hadn't been serious.
An image assaulted him, one that made frequent appearances in his thoughts: Laney, bent over his desk, skirt pulled up over her bare ass, begging to be punished in whatever way he saw fit…
Those were exactly the sort of thoughts that would have him acting as clumsy as Laney if he didn't knock it off. He needed to get laid. It had been months, months he hadn't really noticed because it was so easy for him to get consumed with work. He'd always been that way, even in school. While his friends panted over cheerleaders and the occasional drama chick, Michael had dedicated himself to getting good grades, to working hard, to
achieving
whatever goal was in front of him.
Girls were an incredibly pleasant diversion, one he'd gladly partaken in after he lost his virginity to an older woman the summer he turned sixteen. She'd taught him well and he'd never lacked for female companionship
ever since. He'd simply never met someone he wanted intensely enough, consistently enough to put her first, to think about her before the next deal, the next argument, the next big paycheck. Michael wasn't much of a romantic, or at least he hadn't been, before some girl had literally stumbled into his life and planted herself on his mind more often than he'd thought about all the girls he'd been with before, combined.