Teaching The Boss

Chapter Two

Sam started on his third cup of coffee, which notably wasn't working, when his office doors swung open.

He glanced up, expecting to see April's smiling face. Instead, he was confronted with Oksana's confident swagger. Although she'd made a small fortune thanks to her face, she wasn't classically beautiful. Her cheekbones were a little too sharp, her lips a little too thin. But her unique look combined with her piercing green eyes made her stand out, and advertisers loved her.

"Hey, hun. Is it lunch time already?"

She shrugged as her eyes roamed over his office. "I'm early, but I had a hard time sleeping. New York time has never agreed with me. Let's do a long lunch. You can show me the Statue of Liberty."

He inwardly groaned, but made sure to keep the smile on his face. He'd been under the impression she'd be working as much as him, which was the only reason he'd invited her to stay at his place. Considering he'd spent most of his time in Paris at her apartment and she was scheduled to come to New York the same time he was headed back, it only made sense.

Now his kindness was coming back to bite him in the ass. "I'm still up for lunch, but I don't know if I can do any sightseeing."

She shrugged again. "It's okay. I have some friends I can go with." If another woman had been talking, he'd think they were being passive aggressive, but not Oksana. One of his favorite things about her was that she spoke her mind and never seemed to overreact.

"Let me make sure April can move our reservations up."

She cocked her head slightly. "She is the one whose desk is outside your office?"

Something about the way she asked told him he was in trouble. "Umm...yes."

"She's different than you described." Oksana crossed her arms over her chest.

Yep. Now she was pissed. Was this about him not taking her out? He raked his mind, trying to remember what he'd said about April, but came up blank. "What are you talking about?"

"You said she was a frumpy art student."

He frowned. "I never said 'frumpy.' I don't even talk like that."

"Maybe not explicitly." She leaned to sit on the edge of Sam's desk. "I thought she was going to be a dowdy little thing. Not that."

"I suppose she used to be." His brow furrowed as he thought back to April six years ago. Sure, when he'd first met April, she'd been twenty pounds larger and wore clothes for a woman fifty pounds heavier, with a horrible blonde dye-job. The sight of her standing in the rain, looking downright miserable, was cemented in his mind. Out of pity, he'd offered to share a cab with her, but the second she was in the backseat with him, she'd opened up about her dislike of art, her family, and how much she dreaded picking a new major.

Despite the heavy subject matter, she'd smiled and even managed to make him laugh harder in that cab than he'd laughed the entire night. By the time the cab stopped in a neighborhood he didn't feel comfortable driving through, let alone living in, he'd handed her a card and offered her a job.

But that was six years ago. She didn't look like the broke Jersey girl anymore. She was a sleek and manicured New Yorker. When the hell had that happened?

"We moved to the city and her style changed. I guess I didn't notice. It's not a big deal."

Oksana pursed her lips, but didn't mention April again. "I have a fitting for the LeFarge shoot tomorrow morning, so I hope you don't mind having a light lunch."