10.Bosshole

~Lucas~

As I placed the light kiss on her cheek, I caught the flash of pink that spread over Sienna's cheeks. I could feel the flutter in my own chest, though I pushed it down before it gave her any ideas. I couldn’t have her feeling too special for having “bagged” a billionaire boss—she’d seen enough of my “soft side” for one day.

“Consider it my way of saying... well done,” I said, watching the way her lips curled into a wide, grateful smile, her hazel eyes shining with genuine pride. A small pang hit me then, unexpected and unwelcome.

The girl really was something, her face bright with innocence and those wide, warm eyes that could melt stone.

“Thank you, Lucas… I—"

I wasn’t about to let that slide. My eyes hardened immediately, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Sir,” I corrected sharply.

“Thank you, sir. You address me with respect here, Miss Wilde.”

Her expression shifted, confusion clouding her face as her confidence from a moment ago crumbled. I couldn’t help but feel a twisted satisfaction at the way she wavered, just the slightest bit. Keeping her on her toes was a game I’d grown oddly fond of. I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, probably wondering what kind of bosshole I truly was—one who could switch from cold to sweet in an instant.

Good.

“I’m sorry, President Jones,” she stammered, clearly rattled. “I got carried away. Thank you for standing up for me today and...”

I raised an eyebrow, cutting her off.

“Stand up for you? Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Wilde. I simply did what any professional boss would do. Nothing more.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise at my bluntness, her cheeks flushed with a mix of frustration and something else. I inwardly chuckled at her reaction, watching her flounder as if she had something left to say but didn’t dare let it out.

“Miss Wilde,” I said, glancing at my wristwatch, “if you have nothing else to add, I have something important to attend to.” Without waiting for her response, I brushed past her, stepping into the hallway.

“Sir! Sir!” she called after me, her voice echoing as her heels clacked against the tile in what was possibly the most irritating rhythm I’d ever heard.

I stopped, turning to face her, but she was already closer than I’d expected. Before I could react, she collided with me, her chest pressing against mine. I instinctively reached out, my hands catching her by the waist—though they landed just slightly lower, resting on the perfect curve of her round, medium size ass. Her cheeks reddened, and I could feel the warmth radiating from her.

A brief flash of memory from that night surfaced, and I bit down hard, shoving it away as I quickly released her, perhaps a bit too abruptly.

She stumbled back, catching herself against the wall as I straightened my suit, giving her a glare that I hoped would mask how affected I’d been by the brief contact.

“Can’t believe you managed to deliver such a smooth presentation with this level of clumsiness,” I muttered, folding my arms.

“Now, what do you need, Miss Wilde?”

She righted herself, brushing down her dress before finally meeting my gaze. “Sorry, sir, I… I just wanted to ask about my dad’s hospital arrangements. Today’s the deadline for the payments.”

Of course, it was about her father. I almost rolled my eyes but held back, turning on my heel as I answered.

“Everything’s already been arranged, Miss Wilde. Be ready at two. I’ll be taking you to see him personally. Now, if you’re finished, please free me to attend to more important matters.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, I walked away, feeling her gaze on my back as I strode to the elevator. Her presence lingered with me, though, like a shadow, and I had to take a breath as the elevator doors closed, forcing myself to settle down.

Once alone, I leaned my head against the cool metal wall, willing myself to shake off the feeling that seemed to cling to me after every interaction with her.

The elevator came to a stop at the second floor, and two women entered, their laughter stopping abruptly as they spotted me. Their cheeks flushed, eyes darting nervously as they greeted me in that predictably fawning tone.

“Good morning, President Jones,” they said, all smiles and honeyed voices.

I gave them a short nod, hoping they’d take the hint, but they resumed their conversation in hushed tones, glancing my way every so often.

The taller one, a brunette with perfectly curled hair, spoke first, her voice loud enough to fill the elevator.

“Did you hear? Director Aiden in Design was fired this morning. I can’t believe it.”

“Seriously?” Her friend, a petite blonde, gasped, her eyes widening with delight.

“I heard it was because he scolded that new girl in Design. What’s her name... Sienna or Selena?”

They exchanged looks, grins breaking across their faces as they continued, unaware of my growing irritation.

“Yep. And can you believe she actually announced her engagement in front of everyone? With that tacky diamond ring? Please, it looked like something out of a vending machine,” the brunette sneered, rolling her eyes.

“And that Alexander McQueen dress she wore today?”

The blonde scoffed. “As if. That’s probably a knock-off from SheIn.”

They burst into laughter, each snide comment grating against my patience. The way they belittled Sienna, assuming the things I’d given her were knock-offs, only intensified my anger.

These were the kind of people in my company? Petty, spiteful, and full of envy?

How dare they.

The elevator chimed, signaling the ground floor. They went their separate way, oblivious to the fury simmering inside me, my eyes narrowing as I watched them walk off.

“Sir?” Derrick’s voice pulled me back to reality.

I turned to see him standing by the entrance, grinning like he’d just discovered some big secret. He’s one of the few people I genuinely trust in Bellmore, a friend since high school, even if he sometimes pushes his luck.

“And why are you grinning like a foolish child?” I snapped, as he took my bag, still wearing that insufferable smile, his oversized glasses only making it worse.

“Oh, nothing,” he said, smirking as he held the door open.

“I just saw you eyeing those ladies with that look. Thought maybe your eyes only wandered like that when it came to Sienna.” He opened the rear door, as we reached outside where I had parked my car.

“Shut up, Derrick,” I shot back, slipping into the sleek interior of my Porsche.

“Those two… find out what department they’re in. Then find a reason to fire them. Immediately.”

Derrick’s smirk softened as he nodded, closing the door with a soft click.