Page 50 of Takeover

“You sound kind of sexy when you’re being bossy,” I say to him.

He takes my hand in his again and lays our hands on his lap.

“You like that? Well, come over here and sit on my lap,” he orders.

“It wouldn’t be good for your health to try and boss me around. You might end up with a broken nose.” I take my free hand and make a fist. He reaches over and grabs my balled-up hand.

“This thing won’t hurt a fly. The only thing that will happen if you touch me with that fist, is you’ll turn me on.” He pulls my hand closer to him and puts the entire thing in his mouth. “See,” he mutters. I pull my fist from his mouth and wipe it on his cashmere coat.

“You are such a pervert.”

He wiggles his brows. “Earl will wait for you and will take you to your interview. He’ll bring you to my office afterward.” I pull my head back and stare at him, but his phone buzzes and he answers, giving whoever is on the receiving end a list of orders.

He stays on the phone until Earl pulls up to my building, but he never lets go of my hand. When Earl opens my door, Ethan surprises me by following me to my apartment.

“I can take the train or an Uber downtown.”

He pushes me against the wall and kisses the breath out of me. “Earl will take you.” He pulls away and checks his watch. “I can’t stay, but depending on when you get to my office, we’ll have lunch.” Then he pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead. “I’ll miss you.” The words take me by surprise, and for several seconds, I’m speechless.

“You’re one of those clingy guys, aren’t you?”

“Level ten clinger,” he says.

“Don’t make me dump you.” I playfully try to push him out of my apartment, but he grabs me, pulls me into his arms, and kisses my nose. Finally, I say, “I guess I’ll miss you too, you bossy pain in the ass.” I put my arms around his neck, get on my tippy toes and look into his eyes. “Wish me luck.”

“I guess I’m not the only bossy one. Good luck, even though you don’t need it.” He drops a hard kiss on my lips and leaves my apartment.

30

The traffic from downtown to midtown takes longer than it should in the middle of the day. The falling snow does nothing to hasten the crawling pace through the city, and I’m relieved to be sitting in the dry warmth of Ethan’s Maybach rather than walking around Manhattan.

I lean back into the plush leather and close my eyes. The past two days have been exhausting, and this is the first moment I’ve had to relax and clear my head. The interview went well. It went on for longer than I thought, the bulk of my time spent with the vice president of marketing, who’s a Columbia grad. I don’t know how long my eyes stay closed, but I open them when I feel the sharp sting of a northeastern January wind.

“Ms. Taylor.” Earl offers me his hand, and despite the cold, his hand is warm. He helps me out of the car and into the elevator before he walks away. I pull out my phone and text Ethan that I’ve arrived.

“Turn around, or I’m calling security,” the man, whose name I believe is Hunter, says. He stands up from his desk and blocks my path to Ethan’s office. “Amelia,” he says to the well-coiffed blonde, “call security.”

Just as Amelia picks up her phone, Ethan walks out of his office. I cross my arms and stare at Hunter when Ethan puts an arm around me.

“He was very mean to me, honey,” I say to Ethan, pouting dramatically while I run my hand across his pecs.

“You’re fired,” Ethan says to Hunter.

“So, this is why you almost cracked a smile this morning? That’s why I ordered lunch for two?” Hunter asks, eyes wide as he looks at the both of us. “And this is why you created a hostile work environment for those two weeks.” Hunter turns his shrewd eyes on me and says, “Chica, what did you do to this man? You had him twisted like a pretzel.”

“I hope you didn’t think the other meal was for you,” Ethan says. “And you haven’t seen a hostile work environment yet. Keep it up, Hunter.”

“I’m on a fourteen-day cleanse, but don’t worry. The twenty-four-dollar green smoothie I had for lunch was on you. And you don’t scare me.” He turns from Ethan and offers me his hand. “Hunter Franco. I run shit on this floor.”

“Tara Taylor. You can have this floor. I’m going to run the world.”

“Respect,” he says. He nods, and Ethan escorts me to his office.

Hunter cocks his head and gives me a nod. “I think I might end up liking you.”

“Everyone does eventually. Tell him, Ethan,” I say.

“Get our damn lunch, Hunter,” is all Ethan says before he walks us inside the office and slams the door in Hunter’s face.

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