Page 3 of Dear Billionaire Boss
GRAYSON
The atmosphere in the office is always more relaxed when I’m gone for few days. When the cat’s away the mice will play. But when the cat returns, I expect everyone in the office to be the professionals I hired them to be. They think I have no clue what happens when I’m gone, but I haven’t gotten to where I am in this world by not knowing everything that’s happening in this office.
“Good morning, Mr. Grayson,” My assistant, Maren, stands up from her desk to greet me. She’s the only one that doesn’t seem to have that aire about her that she wasn’t still working one hundred percent in my absence. She’s only been working here a few months, but she’s already made herself an invaluable asset to me.
“Good morning.” I take the mug of coffee she holds out to me. “Any problems while I was gone?”
“No issues. I just moved around a few meetings because Gina Marshall insisted on having lunch with you today.”
I sigh and head into my office. Sometimes I wished Maren wasn’t so good at her job. I’d love any excuse to cancel on Gina. She’s the daughter of my mentor and currently planning the launch party for our new software. And in the past few years, she’s made it very clear what her intentions are with trying to date me. I don’t have time for her distractions today.
I take a seat at my desk and wiggle my mouse around to wake up my computer. Maren stands expectantly on the other side of my desk.
I glance up at her. “Is that my mail?”
“Yes.” She looks down at the bundle in her arms. “But I haven’t had a chance to sort through it.”
I hold out my hand to her. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just go through it myself.”
Maren pulls a face, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared. I know what she’s thinking. She’s thinking that I don’t trust that she can handle even the simplest task of opening my mail. She doesn’t know that I don’t mind doing some of the menial tasks in my life, like going through my mail. It helps me clear my mind, to work through some of the bigger issues I have to deal with as CEO of my company.
She hands me the stack. Her desk phone begins to ring, and she leaves me to go answer it. I flip through the envelopes, sorting them into two piles—one pile to deal with now and another pile to deal with later.
A light teal envelope catches my eye and makes me pause. My name is written on the front in handwriting I don’t recognize. There’s no name on the front indicating the sender so I flip it over, but there’s only an address on the back.
Maren pokes her head in my office door. “You’ve got a meeting in three minutes in conference room five with the marketing team.”
“Thank you.” I stuff the letter into my black leather binder and head off to my meeting.
I can see the team scrambling to set up through the glass walls of the conference room. They all straighten when they see me approach.
“Welcome back, sir.”
“Good to be back.” I sit down at my usual seat at the head of the conference room table.
“We’ve put together a plan for the roll out of the new software—” the director of Marketing begins.
I listen as they begin the slide show presentation. I’m still trying to adjust to the jet lag, but my mind wonders a bit. I remember the envelope in my binder and open it up. It’s a handwritten letter.
Dear Mr. Grayson,
Wow, even in a letter I have no intention of sending to you, I still can’t bring myself to call you by your first name. It’s crazy that I’m even putting this down on paper, but I need to get this off my chest. I’ve been working for you for a while now, but I can’t seem to figure you out. There are two sides of the coin that makes you up—the hard-nosed business side and the nice side you think people don’t see. It’s a softer side that cares for those around you even if you don’t admit it. Other’s may not see this part of you, but I do. You’ve proven to the business world that you are a force to be reckoned with, but that doesn’t mean you have to continue to be the cold tough guy you present to the world. You care more about what people think of you than you’d ever admit out loud, maybe even to yourself. Which is probably why I like you, no— since I’m not ever planning to send this I can admit it, if only on paper— I love you. I know my feelings for you are unrequited, but I hope one day you find someone you can let in. And now that I’ve written what’s been on my head and my heart, I can finally move on.
Sincerely Yours,
Maren
I stare down at the letter in my hand, reading and rereading the words over and over again. I don’t understand what possessed her to send this to me. She even wrote that she didn’t intend to send it, so why did she?
I glance out the glass walls of the conference room. My gaze zeroing in on my assistant as she stands near the cubicle an employee whose name I don’t know. I’m not one to ever get involved with one of my employees. Its messy and unprofessional—but for some reason it’s a like a filter has been lifted off my eyes and I can’t help but see her in a new way. Maren throws her head back in laughter at something the guy says, and a surge of jealousy shoots through me. I want to be the one to make her laugh.
One of the mailroom clerks walks by and a few boxes fall off the cart he’s pushing. Maren squats down to help pick them up and I’m able to see more of what is hidden beneath the unbutton part of her silk blouse. My dick twitches at the sight of her ample cleavage.
My body is reacting to her in a way I’ve never felt before. As my employee, I would never look at her in any other way, but I wasn’t oblivious to her beauty. But this letter, her words about seeing the real me seems to pull away the restraints I put on myself.
She loved me?
“Sir?”
