My Favorite Boss Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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She wore a pretty navy-and-white polka-dot dress, tied at the hip with a flirty bow. There were frills at her waist and hem, and she looked cool and professional. Her hair was down, hanging over her shoulders in soft waves. My fingers itched to touch her hair and to find out if that flirty bow was real or simply for show. But I shook my head to clear it. I had to concentrate on this meeting.

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes.”

Without thinking, I grabbed her arms and pulled her close, pressing a hard kiss to her mouth. “Thank you.”

Because of Myers, everything was perfect. Coffee and her homemade muffins were laid out. The model was covered and the office pristine. I greeted the clients, smiling as they gushed over the muffins and what a treasure my assistant was. They held foamy coffees in their hands, the art on the top more of Myers’s handiwork. I drew in a deep breath, smiling as she came in, handing me a coffee, then sat by my desk, her notebook at the ready.

I sipped my coffee, giving everyone a chance to finish their morning treat. Joanne grinned at Myers. “I need to hire you for the resort. These are the most delicious muffins I have ever eaten.”

Myers laughed, shaking her head. “I’m quite happy here.”

“I’d make it worth your while.”

Myers smiled. “I’m honored. It’s my grandmother’s recipe, and I’m happy to share it with your chef. I have family obligations here.”

“Of course. I’ll be in touch about the recipe. And if you change your mind, let me know.”

Myers inclined her head, gracious and silent. I was glad that subject was closed. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Then I went to the model, waiting for my partners to join me. “Ready?”

Joanne and Randy nodded, eager. I watched as their eyes widened and the look of delight spread on their faces as the model was revealed. I went through it step by step, describing in detail everything built into the plan they couldn’t see. When I was done, we all answered questions about the entire concept.

I peeked at Myers, surprised to see tears in her eyes. She mouthed “I’m so proud” at me, and I threw her a subtle wink, making her smile.

Suddenly, everything else faded away. The disappointment of being interrupted last night vanished. My mother’s snide words no longer mattered. Myers’s opinion, my client’s reaction, were all I cared about.

And I would hold on to those.

The whole meeting went well. Randy and Joanne loved everything. They were excited and informed us they were offering us their next project without going to tender.

“You’ve shown us your best,” Randy said. “Every time, you’ve hit it out of the park. We want your stamp on the next one. You have our business.”

Lawson, Anderson, and I all exchanged triumphant glances.

Myers slipped out of the office, and we sat discussing the next project. They were as big on conservation as I was, and when they described the next hotel complex, my mind was already firing. All of us were scribbling notes since we worked hand in hand, my landscaping complementing the buildings they would create and/or refurbish. I was in the zone, hyped up on the success and enthusiasm of the people around me. As usual, I kept my emotions in check, but I was pleased. More than pleased.

After the clients left, my partners stayed behind, and we went over ideas and plans. Myers brought more coffee and muffins, staying in the background. As she slid the tray onto the desk, I eyed the bow at her hip again. She met my eyes, rolling hers as if guessing my train of thought.

Once we were done, my partners insisted on going out to lunch to celebrate, and I couldn’t get out of it. I wanted to stay at my desk and begin sketching. Eat the delicious sandwich Myers would give me. Talk to her. But I agreed to go, stopping at Myers’s desk to tell her I was out for the afternoon.

“Take it off,” I whispered.

“I beg your pardon?” she replied, her eyebrows shooting up.

“The afternoon,” I replied. “I know these two. I’ll roll them into a taxi around three, and then I’ll come back here and work. Finish what you’re doing and head home.”

“Thanks,” she said.

I left, feeling oddly bereft. I should have told her I wanted to stay there with her. Listen to her talk, tease her about charming the clients, looking so sexy. But I stayed silent.

It was well past three when I walked back into the building, dodging the rain that was falling. Myers’s desk was empty, and I stared at it, recalling the other people who had sat there. None of them had done half the job she did on a daily basis.

I entered my office, shocked to find her leaning on the back of the sofa, staring out the window. Her coat and purse were on the cushions, and she was twirling a lock of hair. The office was dim, the lights off, and the clouds casting shadows through the windows.



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