Authors: Alana Sapphire
Copyright 2016 Alana Sapphire
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are fictitious or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products or works mentioned.
Thank you for purchasing this eBook. This eBook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. This eBook, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
Cover designed by Alana Sapphire © 2016
I stare at him from across the room, deep in conversation with my manager and his wife. Rick McAllister is an absolute dream come true. Tall, handsome, lean muscles, dark, wavy hair, and eyes as blue as the ocean. Not only is he hot, but successful, too. Quite a heady combination. He’s a financial wiz. He started from scratch, and is now, at thirty years old, the CEO of one of the biggest companies on Wall Street – the company where I also work. Yes, he’s my boss; my boss’ boss actually.
Rick apparently says something funny, making Walter and his wife laugh uncontrollably. I watch with a goofy smile. He’s the love of my life. Too bad he doesn’t know I exist. Many might call it an obsession, but I don’t see it that way. The first time I saw him, my heart waved the white flag and surrendered. Yes, at first it was physical. Rick is Carolina Reaper hot, and I’d gladly take a bite of that pepper any day. Looks and brains aside, he seems to be a great guy. He’s smart, funny, generous, caring...well, from what I’ve heard. He has this air about him that says ‘I’m the fucking boss’…not cocky, but confident. With every speech I heard him give, every article I read about him, everything people told me about him, my admiration grew. If only I had the courage to talk to him.
Trust me, I don’t believe for one second there’s any way he’d be remotely interested in me. He’s so far out of my league, he’s a different sport altogether. Even if the Heavens were to grant my heart’s desire, I couldn’t take the chance. I’m just a lowly assistant but I don’t plan on remaining in that position for long. That’s not why I busted my ass getting a degree in Human Resources, and working full time while I studied for my MBA. All I need now is the experience in order to get my HR certification. There’s no way I could allow my reputation to be tainted by a relationship with the boss. Or any co-worker for that matter. With a sigh, I avert my gaze.
Turning in the direction of the voice, I see Jimmy walking toward me. “Hey, Jimmy.”
“It’s a party. Why so glum, chum?”
party. I can’t exactly go wild.”
“If you wanna get wild just say the word,” he replies with a smirk.
“We’ve been through this, Jimmy,” I warn him.
“I know, I know. You don’t date people you work with.”
I covertly observe Jimmy. For the better part of this year, he’s been trying to get me to go out with him. He’s cute – thick blond hair, brown eyes, but his lips are a little thin for my liking, and he’s a little on the skinny side. He’s a nice enough guy, too, just not my type.
I flash a grateful smile at Rosalinda as she approaches. She always knows when I need to be rescued. Rosa places her hands on her hips, and pins Jimmy with a warning glare.
“Jimmy, are you harassing Kelly again?”
Rosa’s a supervisor, but I forget it sometimes because she never treats me like a subordinate. Rosa’s mixed – Puerto Rican and Trinidadian. She’s also a little fireball, all sex and attitude, with the looks and body to pull it off – long, black tresses, caramel complexion, hazel eyes, small waist, and broad hips. Not to mention her boobs and booty. Without heels, she’s 5ʹ6ʺ, a whole two inches taller than me. Not that anyone would know. Rosa never wears anything less than a four inch heel. I’m nothing like her – too short, too much hips, too much breasts, too much everything.
“Yes, I am and, as usual, she shot me down.”
“Take a hint, Romeo.” Rosa rolls her eyes as she grabs my hand. “C’mon. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Once we’re out of earshot, I whisper, “Thanks, Rosa.”
“No prob, hon. Some guys are just clueless.”
After spending an hour with Rosa, mingling and engaging in small talk with our co-workers, I decide to head home. I spent most of the time searching for Rick anyway. I say my goodbye’s and make my way to the elevator. As I watch the numbers light up, I scold myself.
You need to get rid of these stalker tendencies, Kelly Black. You and Rick ain’t gonna happen.
As I usually do, I survey the dimly lit parking structure carefully while I head to my car. A woman can never be too careful. As I open the door, I glance down, and then slam the door with all the strength in my body.
“Fuck! Just what I need…a flat tire.”
I check the time, but I can probably have it changed and be on my way before Triple A even gets here. With a frustrated sigh, I retrieve the jack and lug tool from the trunk of my Camry. Kicking off my heels, I remove my jacket and get to work.
Three hours is more than adequate time for making small talk at an office party. It’s time for me to go home. Not that home is much better. It’s somewhere to go after hours because I can’t sleep or shower in my office. I loosen my tie, regretting giving my driver the night off, as I head to my car. A sound draws my attention and I stop in my tracks. Listening carefully, I hear singing, and the clank of tools. Cautiously, I walk in the direction they’re coming from.
As I get closer, the sound becomes clearer. It’s a small voice—a woman’s voice—singing Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark”. With a smile, I move around the car. What I find, almost takes my breath away. Crouched by the driver’s side front tire, is a brown-haired beauty, proficiently removing a flat, and bopping her head to her own voice.
“Do you need some help?” I ask, when I find my voice.
She’s so startled, she drops the lug tool and loses her balance, teetering backward. I rush to her aid, catching her before she lands on her ass. As she stands, I note it’s a gorgeous ass, too.
“Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a lady like that?” she snaps at me.
I would have been upset at her outburst if she wasn’t actually right. She turns around furiously—no doubt to give me a piece of her mind—but her mouth falls open, and she stares down at her feet instead.
“Mr. McAllister! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”
“No need to apologize. You’re right. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”
She gives me a nervous smile. As I look her over, I wonder why I haven’t seen her before.
“Are you new here?”
“No, sir,” she answers. “I’ve been here a year now.”
“A year? Who’s your manager?”
“Walter Banks. I’m his assistant.”
“Yes, sir,” she replies, a little taken aback.
“Ah, Walter was just raving about you. I’m surprised we’ve never met.”
If I’d known his assistant was so beautiful, I would have had all our meetings in Walter’s office.
I drink her in from her pretty, stocking clad toes, to her silky mane of brown hair. She’s a petite thing, but what she lacks in height, she certainly makes up for in other places. She has a perfect hour glass figure, and her silk top is barely keeping her ample bosom in check. Her skin is flawless, and she has the most perfect lips I’ve ever seen – red and plump. I can’t see her eyes because she’s kept them trained on my chest, probably still embarrassed by her outburst.
She glances nervously at her tire.
“Why don’t you let me give you a hand?” I offer.
“I couldn’t –”
“No objections. Take it as my apology for sneaking up on you.”
She finally meets my gaze, and I lose my senses at the sight of the most amazing pair of eyes I’ve ever seen – eyes almost the color of gold.
Figures! I finally get to meet him and I’m covered in grease! Not only that, but I’ve probably insulted the man!
“Sir, are you all right?” I ask. He doesn’t look so well.
After a slight shake of his head, he smiles. “Please, call me Rick.”
Ooh…first name basis!
“Okay…Rick. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, it’s just…your eyes…”
“I know. They’re weird.” I look away in embarrassment.
“No. They’re…unique. I’ve never seen eyes that color before.”
I consider his assessment. That’s one way of putting it. “I guess they
“Yes, well…let’s see to this tire, shall we?”
He removes his jacket and tie, and places them on the hood of the car. After rolling up his sleeves, he picks up the lug tool. I don’t know what else to do, so I stand nervously next to him, and watch as Rick McAllister—the star of all my erotic dreams and fantasies—changes my flat tire.
“Why didn’t you just call for help?” he asks.
“I figured I could have it changed before they even got here.”
“Weren’t you scared? Being out here alone, at night?”
Great. Now he thinks I’m a dumbass.
Hell, I probably am. “A little.”
He goes quiet, working on the lug nuts, so I follow his cue, awkwardly inspecting my nails.
“So, you have a thing for The Boss, huh?”
Oh God, how the hell does he know?
“E-excuse me, sir?” I stutter.
“Springsteen. You were singing ‘Dancing in the Dark’ earlier.”
. “Oh. Yes, I do.”
“Me, too. Well, not for
. I like his music.” He smiles up at me, and I can’t help but smile back. “I guess we have something in common.”
“I guess we do,” I agree with a shy smile.
God, even his teeth mesmerize me. They’re so white and…perfect.
“How do you like working for Walter?” he asks, changing the subject.
“He’s a good boss. We’ve never had any problems.”
“That’s good to know.”
He goes quiet again, concentrating on the tire. In no time at all, he rolls the flat to the back of the car, and places it in the trunk, along with the tools. While he’s back there, I reach into the glove compartment, and grab the pack of wet wipes I keep there. When I hand one to him, he smiles, and my heart melts at the sheer beauty of the man.
“Always prepared I see, Miss…?”
“Black. I try to be.”
“Well, Miss Black, you’re good to go. Drive safely,” he says as he retrieves his jacket and tie.
“Thank you, Mr. McAllister.”
“Rick,” he corrects me. “Besides, I was just being a gentleman. I can tell you’re very capable of changing a flat tire, and certainly didn’t need my help.”
I give him a flattered smile. “My grandfather taught me. He always said ‘there’s no such thing as a man’s job’.”
“He is.” I climb into my car, and roll the window down. “Thank you again, sir. I appreciate your help.”
He watches as I back out of my spot, and drive off. I’m in a daze the entire journey home.
At least he knows I exist now.
I desperately hope I didn’t make a complete fool of myself.