Seducing Daddy's Boss Read online

  “I’m glad Julia. It’s a great company to work for, and with the new contracts Mr. Stevenson has secured, I have no doubt the demand for business executives will increase.”

  “Dad, what are you getting at?” I ask, cocking my brow at him.

  “You’re a smart, educated young lady, Julia. Put in the hard work, and with your degree, you could certainly work yourself up if you decide this is a job you enjoy. You’re new, so you’re just learning the industry now as an assistant.” He pauses and takes a drink of orange juice. “You and Mr. Stevenson seem to work very well together, so keep your mind open and soak up everything—you never know when you’ll learn something valuable.”

  “Dad, I hadn’t even considered the possibility of making a long-term career at Stevenson Industries. For now, this job is just a placeholder… I think.” I scrunch my brows as I think about everything he just said—the possibilities of securing a future with this company—and more with Griff—makes me smile.

  “I see I’ve piqued your interest,” he says, beaming as he forks more food into his mouth.

  “You definitely have given me something to think about.”

  * * *

  Monday afternoon Griff taps on the partition. “Julia, do you have a moment?” he asks, his face set in hard lines as he peers at me.

  “Of course, what’s up?” I ask, curious.

  Griff’s brow furrows. “I have to leave for business, and I’ll be gone for a couple of days.”

  “Yes, it’s on your weekly schedule here,” I point out.

  Griff sits in the chair across from my desk and crosses his ankle over his knee, rubbing his hand over his scruff of beard. He’s quiet momentarily and he seems lost in thought; for what, I’m unsure. “What I’m worried about is you getting home safely,” he explains. “I know you’ve managed to dodge the ex, but I have an uneasy feeling about the situation. I was going to talk to your dad, but I don’t want to overstep my boundaries as an employer.”

  Wow… “Thanks,” I say in relief, “but I don’t want to worry him. Don’t worry, Griff. I can take a cab. It’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t rely on you for a ride anyway.” I shrug, dismissing his concern although it certainly warms my heart. He’s worried about me. Of course, we’re becoming friends, but I’m shocked by the revelation.

  “Nonsense. I kind of enjoy having someone to rock out with for a few miles.” A hint of a grin peeks through his scruff, his eyes alight and playful. His words make me smile. “Okay, a cab sounds safer than the bus. Good idea. It’s only for two days, and then we’ll be back to our usual routine.”

  His phone rings from across the room, interrupting our brief moment. “Conference call,” I remind him with a small smile. He nods, that grin growing deeper, then strides confidently back to his desk to answer it.

  My mind reels with Griff’s implication that I can expect rides with him for the foreseeable future. A naughty part of my brain wonders if he’d be receptive to a different kind of ride, but I shake it off and try not to read too deeply into his words or concern. Griff’s a total hottie and a total catch. Handsome as fuck… and rich. He’s too good for me, so I’ll just enjoy his company and keep my infatuations to myself.

  * * *

  The office is too quiet today in Griff’s absence, and the stark silence almost drives me crazy. The phones haven’t even rung once, so I guess Bonnie has taken the liberty to take messages for him so I can focus on my work. Having all my tasks completed early, I straighten up my area then close the computer down for the day. I cast a glance at my watch—4:45—and decide to call a cab as I assured Griff I would do. No sense in taking the chance of having an unwanted run-in with that slime ball, Pete.

  I step out into the evening air, the sun bright on my face. It’s been a gorgeous day, and one I’d rather have spent in the park with a good book; alas, adulthood put paid to that. The cab pulls into the lot—it’s a decent car, not a rusted clunker with blue smoke polluting the air. I climb inside and notice the clean interior with zero scent of must or trash. Uncommon, but much appreciated. Public transportation can be rather disgusting.

  “Hello, miss. Lovely weather today, eh? Where are we headed?” he says.

  “It certainly is,” I reply. “You know Lynwood Terrace? Near the Rose Garden in San José?”

  “I don’t know the street, but sure, I know the Rose Garden area. That’s a pretty part of town. You live there?”

  “Yeah… well, it’s actually my dad’s. I’m staying with him for a bit until I can get my own apartment. I just started a new job here,” I reply.

  “Great place to work from what I hear,” he quips.

  “It is. I’ve only just started, but I’m loving it so far,” I beam, and think of Griff.

  The driver is friendly, and we make simple conversation as he navigates through the city. He drops me at the store near home, and I ask if he can return the same time tomorrow. He suggests when I call to ask for him, hands me a card, and I assure him I will.

  I pick up everything on my list, eager to get home and slide on some comfy pajamas. I make my way to the apartment, the evening breeze calm and warm on my cheeks. Clad with heavy brown bags, I manage to unlock the door without dropping anything. I smile when I find my dad asleep on his recliner in front of the TV and cover him with a blanket. I move about the kitchen with ease, putting away groceries and then put the chicken in the oven. With thirty minutes to kill before I check on it, I decide to take a nice hot bath to relax.

  As the tub fills, I grab my cell phone and log in to my social media page since it’s been a couple of weeks that I’ve been online. I thumb through the notifications and find nothing too important. I move on to a new friend request, and my heart jumps into my throat when I see it’s Pete. I go to his page and block him after I delete his request. Not today, Satan. Not today.

  I climb into the bath with my phone and lay back, the heat from the water soothing my limbs. Seeing the red messages icon lit up, dread fills me knowing he’s taken alternate measures of contacting me since I haven’t been responding to his texts. Scrolling through his messages, a chill washes over me despite the warm water. He rants and rages, then pleads for forgiveness within seconds. It’s mind-boggling how someone can go from one extreme to the other, though the fear Pete has instilled in me is palpable.

  I know I promised Griff that if things got worse I’d contact the police, but so far, he’s only made empty threats. He’s always been a lot of talk and very little action, so I shake off the trepidation and archive the messages. I don’t want to see them, but I don’t think it’s smart to delete them either.

  Putting the incident to the back of my mind, I realize the water has cooled and likely the chicken is almost ready. I get out of the tub and towel off to dress and wake Dad up to eat.

  * * *

  The hours slowly tick by, the monotony bordering on annoying. I’m effective in my work, and with Griff away on business, there isn’t much more I can do, having all the reports and files completed by 3:30. I consider leaving early, but I’m still new to this job, and I can’t afford to have a strike against me in this probationary period. I’ve given some consideration to the discussion Dad and I had about my future with Stevenson Industries, so I wait the day out, helping Bonnie on the front desk.

  The phone on my desk rings at 4:55. I know I don’t have to answer it; the phone answering system is already on, but I figure it could be important. Sure enough, it’s a client who needs to reschedule their meeting with Griff tomorrow. I start my computer and make small talk with the client as I pull up Griff’s calendar.

  “Julia, can you lock up the office when you leave?” Bonnie calls out as she pokes her head in. She quickly mouths sorry when she sees I’m on the phone. I give her a thumb’s up, and she disappears with a wave and a smile.

  Griff’s schedule is hectic with the new project in the works, so we discuss possible dates to accommodate both Griff and the client.

  Closing the computer down a
gain, I realize I’m twenty minutes behind schedule. I turn off the lights as I make my way through our office, then shoot a quick text to my dad as I pull the door shut behind me and lock it. Crossing reception, I realize everyone’s gone for the day. Even the security guard isn’t at his post, so I assume he’s gone for a bathroom break. The click-clack of my heels echo off the vast walls, and I hurry outside. I tighten my bag over my shoulder and scan the parking lot. That’s when it hits me… There’s no cab waiting for me. Shit!! I got so wrapped up on the phone with the client, I forgot to call for a cab.

  My fingers fly over the screen, quickly dialing the cab company, and they assure me a cab is on its way. I nervously pace the parking lot, while always keeping an eye on my surroundings. It’s bordered with tall trees and hedges behind and I wonder how had I not realized how secluded it is here before?

  A car pulls in, and I breathe a sigh of relief until it rolls to a stop and I realize it’s not the cab at all. A flash of the face inside makes me scramble backward. I disappear through the side gate my dad always uses in hopes to hide in the grounds I barely know myself.

  I rush through and search for a decent place to hide. At least I have pants on today, because I see a platform on a radio mast up off the ground where I can hide. A minute after I climb up the metal ladder and hunker down, I hear the crunch of gravel below me.

  Nervously clenching my hands, I realize I’m still grasping my phone and hurriedly mute the volume. Something tells me I’m not going to like what happens if Pete finds me. It’s now obvious Griff’s paranoia over the situation isn’t so silly. Pete’s here, after all, and he must’ve been watching me. If he’s taken things this far, the idea of what he could do next scares me. No, I think it’s best for me to sit tight and hope he gives up and goes away. But then again, this is Pete, and if he were one to give up easily, I wouldn’t be hiding out from him right now.

  The heavy tread of footsteps go back and forth again and again, crunching over the gravel and kicking dust up as he frantically searches for me. It’s not until I hear a ‘whoop’ of a siren and see red and blue lights blinking from the parking lot that I hear a mumble of ‘oh, shit’, and the footsteps hurrying in the direction from which he came. There’s a rush of angry voices and then silence.

  I wait momentarily as the voices become quiet and I figure it’s safe to come out of hiding. I begin to wriggle myself free from the small confines, my hands shaking and my heart pounding violently against my ribs as fear courses through me. The cops may have put Pete off for now, but I don’t doubt he’ll be back. The thought doesn’t help my sweaty, shaking hands, and I lose my grip as I attempt to climb down. I meet the ground with a solid thud that knocks the wind out of me. I’m sprawled on my stomach and my head hurts like hell. I lay there blinking, my eyes, trying to clear the haze from my mind, but every muscle in my body aches and I can’t move.

  Suddenly, a bright light flickers in my eyes and makes me wonder if I’m dead. No, this hurts way too much. I vaguely hear muttering as I give way to the heaviness of the fog clouding me, and everything around me fades away.

  Chapter Eight

  Griff

  As soon as my phone goes off I know something’s wrong. Things have felt off all afternoon, and Mac’s face only confirms my fears as it flashes across the screen.

  He gives me a quick breakdown of what’s happened, and I thank him for his efforts. Who knows how long Julia could’ve been lying there without medical attention—or worse, if that asshole had the chance to find her. Mac’s call to the police may have literally been a lifesaver. When I arrive at the hospital, I find Walt in the waiting room and he stands to greet me with a handshake.

  “Griff, thank you for coming, you really didn’t have to,” he says.

  “It’s the least I can do. Our employees are family,” I assure him, though a small twinge of guilt runs through me. If this man knew what I really wanted to do to his daughter, he’d likely punch me where I stand. “Any news on how she’s doing?” I ask, wiping that thought from my mind. My concern is sincere, though. I need to know that Julia is okay.

  “So far, the doctors have said she has concussion. That’s their biggest concern because she came in unconscious and hasn’t woken yet. There are a few bruised ribs and some cuts and scrapes, too,” Walt explains.

  I frown. This isn’t what I want to hear. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to hang around with you for a while.”

  Walt smiles sadly. “I’d really appreciate that, Griff. Thanks.”

  * * *

  Time is a funny thing in hospital waiting rooms. I can’t tell you how long Walt and I sit inside, but eventually, someone approaches us and the doctor looks at me questioningly as he sits down.

  “It’s okay, he’s a family friend,” Walt says, looking at me.

  “Okay, Mr. Black. Here’s where we’re at,” he says, and we both sit forward in our seats, listening intently to what he has to say. “Julia is stable. She came around once in shock and didn’t seem to remember what happened,” the doctor explains. “We sedated her to give her body a chance to heal and that’s wearing off now, so you can go see her if you’d like to be there when she wakes up. I’ll have one of the nurses take you down to her,” he says.

  “Yes, of course we would,” Walt says as he stands, and I follow along behind him. The nurse leads us through the maze of corridors and opens the door for us. Inside the room, Julia looks so peaceful in the bed. A few scrapes mar her face, but she looks downright angelic as she lies there sleeping.

  My anger builds. This Pete guy had better back the fuck off, and I have half a mind to have Mac make him wish he’d never messed with Julia. The license plate from the other day turns out to be Pete’s and it was one of the things Mac noticed immediately during the would-be attack at the company site. I try to calm myself down, but inside, I’m seething with rage seeing this poor girl hurt in front of me, and I so want to punch him in the face.

  Chapter Nine

  Julia

  A rhythmic beep wakes me. My eyes feel heavy, and my head and chest hurt. The smell around me reeks of chemical cleaners, and it dawns on me that I’m in a hospital bed.

  I hate hospitals.

  I muster up the strength to open one eye and see my dad staring at me from the foot of the bed with a concerned look on his face. “Julia, thank goodness.” He rushes around to the side and places a kiss on my head. “I’ll go find the doctor.”

  My gaze follows him toward the door, then I notice that we’re not alone. Griff stands there solemnly. “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey,” I say groggily and try not to imagine how horrible I must look.

  “This is probably going to sound dumb, but how are you feeling?” he asks.

  “Never better,” I joke, and a small smile comes to my face.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks.

  “Not right now, but I will once my dad leaves,” I say, but before he can argue, my dad returns and Griff silently nods his understanding.

  “I think I’ll go grab a coffee and let you two chat. I’ll be back,” Griff says with a gentle smile.

  “Thanks again for coming, Griff, it means a lot,” Walt says.

  “No problem. The police called me to say they were on the scene at the plant and Julia had been hurt. I had to see for myself that she was okay,” Griff tells him with a pat on the back.

  We watch Griff leave, and once the heavy door closes, an uncomfortable tension fills the air.

  “Julia, what happened?” Dad asks.

  I don’t want to lie to him, but I don’t want to worry him either, so I try to play it off as an accident.

  “It was silly. I left something at the office and zigged when I should’ve zagged and fell.”

  Dad shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have gone back there. It’s not safe—especially after hours.”

  “So I’ve noticed,” I say wryly.

  “You had me scared, Julia.”

  “I’m sorry,
Dad,” I say sincerely. “Listen, I’m a little sore, but I’m fine. It’s probably late. You don’t have to stay.”

  “I’m at least talking to the doctor,” he says stubbornly, and I don’t argue.

  We watch TV for a while. I can’t even tell you what’s on as my mind tries to process the evening’s events instead. The door opens, and I jump from the unexpected movement. It’s only the doctor, and I laugh at my nervousness.

  The doctor updates us on my injuries and assures my dad I’ll make it out of here tomorrow, alive and in one piece if nothing changes. I’m discovering how painful bruised ribs can be and that I have a slight concussion—along with some scrapes and such—which is why they want to monitor me overnight. Overall, I did a pretty bang-up job on myself.

  The doctor has the nurse bring some food and Dad says goodnight and leaves without any further fuss. It looks like something from a grinder on a tray so I push it aside in disgust. A few minutes later, the door opens again, and I tense up until I see Griff with a bag of takeout. He glances at the tray and wrinkles his nose.

  “I’ll make you a deal. You give me the whole story, and I’ll share what’s inside this bag since I just saw your dad walk out the door.”

  “What’s inside the bag?” I ask to alleviate some of the stress from this situation.

  “Italian.” He opens the top and wafts it in front of my face so the delicious aroma fills my nostrils.

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  Griff

  It only takes a moment to settle into a chair. I move it next to the small rolling table which we share. The takeout fits perfectly, and Julia begins to eat ravenously. The pitcher of water is on the windowsill, so I get up and pour her a glass. She shoots me a look of gratitude as she takes it from me.

  “Thanks,” she says after a swallow.

  “I’m listening,” I say as I sit again and take a bite of my food.

  Julia studies me. “Why do I feel like you already know what happened?”

  Touché. “Maybe I want to hear it from you,” I say enigmatically.